#I HAVE TO COVER MY LAPTOP WITH A SHEET OR SOMETHING

[towalover]

Making a playthrough of slow damage is a double edged sword because while I can reexperience some important character moments I also have to rewatch the entirety of every sex scene in auto mode so each of them take 45 minutes….45 minutes of awkward taku handjob….

[helioooss]

vi. i need to want something more (the end)

synopsis: after a rare drunken night, y/n wakes up in bed next to the most untouchable girl at yonsei: karina. she’s immediately thrown into a mess she never wanted, torn between her own moral compass and the undeniable pull of something she doesn’t understand. some lines, once crossed, can never be undone.

w/c: 10k+

warnings: heavy cheating, implied sex, alcohol, smoking, just normal uni stuff, swearingggg, slow burn

a/n: so here it is…was a long time coming; i appreciate all of you who stuck around long enough to see the end it. there will be no fics for awhile as i work on editing my older stuff — figured i need to show those a bit of love and polishing too. this series has so much potential to become more, i’ll keep my ears open in the future. always enjoy reading your takes on this chapter, so please let me know how you feel about it :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the light wakes you first. not the usual pale grey cast of a seoul morning, but something softer, whiter. your breath is visible in the sliver of air between your duvet and your face.

the heater’s still warming up — typical. you stay curled beneath the covers a few seconds longer, blinking toward the window, where the light presses through the glass differently now.

you already know.

when you sit up, you’re met with the season’s first snowfall. it’s not heavy yet, still a delicate sheet of white layered over the pavement and trees outside.

the world is slower; even the wind is holding its breath.

you get up barefoot, stepping around the pile of laundry near your desk, your laptop still open from last night. giselle flew back to japan last week and yunjin left a post-it note on your side table saying she was grabbing coffee with ryujin. they’ll probably be out for hours.

you should make coffee, maybe start reading that case brief you’ve avoided all week. instead, you stare out the window a while.

the trees outside are really bare now, snow clinging to every branch like a second skin. you reach for your phone and snap a quick photo.

your fingers hover for a moment before sending it to your parents.

first snow of the season! ❄️

they had invited you to join them in switzerland for the holidays; some rental cabin overlooking a frozen lake, something out of a postcard. you told them you had too much to finish here; that much was true.

the reply comes quickly.

from: dad 👨

beautiful! mum says bundle up. she’s already trying to book you a plane ticket despite your answer still being a firm no. 😂

you smile, a little and your screen dims again.

and then it buzzes.

from: sana 🩵

you still like watching the snow fall from windows?

something shifts in your chest as you stare at her name for a moment — warm and uncertain. before you can think about it too hard, you hit call.

she answers before the second ring.

“hi,” you greet, still watching the snowfall.

“hi,” she replies, voice soft and all. she sounds like she’s speaking from under a warm blanket. “you’re up early.”

“snow woke me.”

“hmm,” she hums. “me too, actually.”

you don’t say anything for a second, just listen to her breathing through the speaker because there’s something grounding about it.

“do you want to come over?”

she pauses, then says: “only if we get breakfast first.”

you smile, small and real. “our usual?”

“of course.”

you end the call and move slowly through your morning — brushing your teeth, pulling on layers, rubbing moisturiser into your face with hands that still feel half asleep. you stare at your reflection for a beat too long; there’s colour in your cheeks from the cold and your hair’s a little flat, but you look more like yourself lately.

or someone you recognise, anyway.

as you zip up your coat, you think of sana. how she’s never asked you to call this anything…or make you feel like you owe her certainty you don’t have.

and still — she shows up.

you think about how easy it would be to keep building this quiet version of love, one morning at a time. back then, you thought maybe the whole world would bend if you just stayed still beside her long enough.

you could get used to whatever this is again.

eventually, a car horn honks twice. when you step outside, the snow crunches beneath your boots. she’s already out of the car, walking toward you with a knit beanie pulled low over her ears. her breath clouds in the air.

the first thing she does is reach for your scarf.

“you still don’t know how to do this properly?” she mutters, unwrapping it halfway to re-loop it snug around your neck. “every year, it’s the same issue.”

“you’re just controlling,” you mumble, lips chapped and numb.

“you would freeze to death without me,” she shakes her head, focusing on the knot. her fingers are cold when it brushes against your neck.

there’s snow caught in her lashes and her cheeks are pink from the cold.

her hair is pulled back loosely, a few strands stuck to her collar. and she’s not looking at you. she’s still focused on that damn scarf. you study her face up close; how her brows knit together in concentration and how beautiful she is when she doesn’t know you’re looking.

“you’re pretty.”

she blinks and looks up; the corners of her mouth twitching. “don’t.”

you grin. “just saying.”

“you’re annoying.” she tugs your scarf tighter and gently shoves your shoulder before turning to the car. you follow, heart warmer than your gloves. “come on.”

the drive to itaewon is short and mostly quiet. the windows fog slightly and she draws a little heart in the glass with her knuckle at a red light. she doesn’t look at you when she does it.

“so,” you begin, glancing at her, “you could be in australia right now; drinking cocktails by a pool. why are you here in seoul?”

she glances over with a smile. “i could be.”

“so why aren’t you?”

she exhales through her nose, barely smiling. “because you’re here.”

“right,” you answer, cheeks flushing with warmth. and it’s enough.

that silences you, looking out the window as the snow settles along rooftops. your chest aches a little and it’s not in the way it used to; not with longing, but just with how much space she still takes up, even now.

grazia is tucked between two boutiques, all brick and wood and fogged-up windows. it’s warm and smells like cardamom and coffee inside. the waiter leads you to a quiet table near the back; you end up ordering pancakes and sana gets eggs on toast with extra mushrooms.

you talk about books — what you’ve been reading, what you haven’t had time to. she tells you about a ridiculous rumour she overheard at a party last week: something about taehyung and a chaebol heir (not jennie this time) who may or may not be fake.

it’s ridiculous.

after a pause, she stirs sugar into her coffee and asks. “so…have you decided?”

you look up at her, then down at your plate. “about the job?”

she nods.

“i think i’m gonna take it,” you answer, running your fingers through your hair. “taehyung’s dad offered me a contract starting next month. i’d be handling mid-scale portfolios. nothing glamorous, but…”

“it’s a start,” she finishes.

“yeah…a really good one.”

she smiles. “i’m glad — you’ll do so well.”

she stirs her drink once more, something milky and sweet. she’s dressed down today; soft turtleneck, old jeans, hair tied back with a velvet scrunchie that doesn’t match.

you rest your cheek on your hand and watch her; she looks comfortable.

“you’re staring again,” she chuckles without looking up and the sound makes your head all warm and fuzzy.

you clear your throat. “you’re always stirring your drink for no reason.

she grins. “i’m thinking.”

“about what?”

“you.”

you scoff into your coffee. “try something harder.”

she reaches across the table to steal a piece of your banana bread, doesn’t bother asking. you let her. then, more softly, she adds: “i’m really proud of you.”

“what for?”

“the job,” she mumbles. “with taehyung’s dad. that’s huge…everyone knows the kim family doesn’t let anyone in so easily.”

“it’s honestly just an entry contract.”

“it’s still a big deal,” she insists. “don’t downplay it. you worked hard and earned it.”

you press your hands around your mug and let the silence linger before asking: “and what about you?”

she lifts her gaze as you watch her carefully.

“when are you taking over your empire?”

sana snorts. “don’t call it that.”

“it is that…your family owns half of tokyo and most of osaka.”

“i mean when you put it like that,” she mutters. “it is…a lot.”

you raise a brow. “so? what’s the plan?”

she laughs, soft and brief — but you keep note of how her shoulders tense.

you don’t press, not yet. you just keep your voice even. “you know it’s coming.”

she leans back slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of her cup. “i know. my dad’s been…bringing it up more often lately. the board’s already making decisions ten years from now.”

her eyes lift to meet yours.

you try to sound gentle; encouraging. “so why not?”

she shrugs, looking away now. “because i’d have to be in japan…full-time.”

she hasn’t said it so plainly before.

you let the silence sit long enough, watching the way she presses her lips together, like she’s already prepared herself for this to hurt.

perhaps the part of you that’s been too afraid to name this…whatever this is — has been waiting for this conversation all along.

“it’s not that i don’t want to,” she adds, quieter now. “but i can’t leave you. not like this. not when we just…started again.”

she meets your gaze once more. there’s something in her expression that makes your chest ache. it’s not doubt.

it’s love, stretched thin by time and distance and the inevitability of her life pulling her somewhere you can’t follow — not yet.

and maybe this is what it means to be grown. to sit across from someone you love, knowing love might not be enough to keep things from changing.

“i’d never ask you to stay just because of me.”

“i know you wouldn’t.”

“but i also wouldn’t hold it against you if you needed to go.”

she exhales, blinking down at her hands. “i don’t want to go if it means leaving this.”

“we’re not a place,” you tell her gently. “we’re not a time either. we’re just…us. maybe we’ll always be.”

you reach for her hand across the table and she lets you take it. her fingers are cold but steady, thumb rubbing against the inside of your wrist like she’s trying to remember how to hold on without gripping too tightly.

you think: if this is all we have right now, i’ll take it. and across the table, she looks at you like she’s thinking the same thing.

as you walk back to the car, she slips her hand into your coat pocket; not your hand. just your pocket.

you laugh at her, feeling a bit lighter now. “what are you doing?”

she shrugs, looking forward. “just making sure you’re warm.”

you don’t reply, sliding your hand over hers, not lacing your fingers, just covering them because her palm is cold. you press your thumb into the space between her knuckles and feel her lean a little closer as you walk.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sound of your door clicking open feels louder than it should. your body aches from sitting too long in the same position, neck stiff, legs heavy and your brain mush after hours of reading case law. you drag yourself into the main living area where the scent of cheap popcorn lingers and twilight is somehow playing again — muted blue and green tones flickering across the television screen.

bella is mid-monologue; the sky is always grey in that fuckass town.

yunjin and ryujin are curled up on opposite ends of the couch, each with a throw blanket and a half-empty bowl of snacks between them. yunjin’s legs are draped over ryujin’s lap and they’re blth eating crispy m&ms (because they’re the best) like it’s the end of the world.

you drop onto the armchair beside them.

“how many times do you guys need to watch this a year?” you ask, voice still rough from not speaking all afternoon.

ryujin doesn’t look away from the screen. “you’re uncultured.”

“she just doesn’t get it,” yunjin agrees, nudging you with her socked foot. “she never got the team jacob to team edward pipeline.”

“i was studying contract law while you two watched vampire melodrama,” you grumble.

“that was your mistake,” ryujin shrugs, refusing to look away from the screen. “and so the lion fell in love with the lamb.”

you sit with them a while, with bits of and pieces of them mimicking lines and a type of silence that only happens when people know each other too well to need to fill it. it’s almost dinner time, you realise. you probably haven’t had a proper meal since breakfast.

yunjin turns to you like she’s reading your thoughts. “so, what do you want to do for dinner?”

you hesitate. “uhh, i’m actually going to sana’s soon.”

ryujin raises her brows without comment. yunjin shifts slightly, pulling her knees to her chest.

“movie night?” she asks, a little teasing, but gentle.

you nod, reaching down to adjust your sock. “yeah, she said she found this old japanese film she wants me to watch.”

“what’s going on with you two anyway?” ryujin looks at you. “it’s been a while now.”

you pause because putting it into words makes it feel more solid.

“we’re…good,” you say slowly. “we don’t talk about what it is. but it’s been really good.”

yunjin hums softly. “and…have you heard from karina?”

her name hits like a stone through still water, your shoulders tensing without meaning to. you haven’t thought about her in ages.

not really, anyway. not since early winter, when snow was just beginning to settle and you were still getting used to the way sana folded your blankets and made you tea before you even asked.

after that dinner scene, jimin just simply vanished. no texts or awkward sightings. not even a whisper from giselle, who always managed to mention her in passing before.

and you didn’t chase it. perhaps you were too tired…or maybe you were finally learning how to let silence be what it was.

still, the name makes something flicker inside your chest. it’s no longer pain, not anymore…just something dull and hasn’t fully left.

“no,” you finally answer. “i haven’t heard anything.”

yunjin fiddles with a popcorn kernel. “well, she’s in seoul, i saw her on ningning’s story last week. she was in the background.”

ryujin says nothing for once, she just reaches for the remote and lowers the volume a bit.

your stomach twists. “really?”

“looked like a rooftop thing. not much though, was just a glimpse.”

you nod, mouth dry. “guess she didn’t end up going to europe with jaewook after all.”

“yeah, guess so,” yunjin smiles at you, the way she always does when she wants to comfort you but doesn’t know the words to say.

you push yourself off the chair and stand. “i should get going though.”

ryujin gives you a slight wave. “tell sana we said hi. and look after yourself. and your heart.”

you pull on your coat, scarf still a mess from how it was folded. your bag’s got a change of clothes stuffed at the bottom and a book you haven’t opened. as you walk out into the cold, your breath clouds in the air and the sky has that faint blue cast of early evening.

sana’s apartment is warm, smells faintly of citrus and something boiling on the stove. she answers the door in a navy jumper and fuzzy socks, her hair damp like she just stepped out of the shower. you blink once and feel your chest ease.

“hi,” she grins, already reaching for your scarf, unravelling it to untie it properly now.

you laugh. “seriously?”

“you’ll thank me later.”

you follow her inside, boots off, bag dropped near the shoe rack. she’s already set up her bedroom —blankets stacked and mismatched pyjamas folded on the edge. you change slowly, the clothes a little big on you, the sleeves brushing your knuckles. she doesn’t say anything when she sees you wearing her shirt, but she smiles like something in her has softened.

you settle into the blankets while she brings over miso ramen and sushi on two trays; simple, warm, comforting.

she really insists on playing an old japanese film she watched once with her mum. it’s black and white and slow-moving, all long glances and quiet music. halfway through, your head finds her shoulder and eventually, her chest.

and somewhere near the end, your eyes start to slip closed. you don’t mean to fall asleep. but sana’s warmth is steady, her breathing’s a weird kind of comfort and her hand has found yours under the blanket.

when you stir awake again, the room is darker. the credits are rolling in soft kanji across the screen. she hasn’t moved.

you lift your head slightly and find her staring at you. “were you watching me?”

she smiles, lazy and unbothered. “a little.”

“creep.”

“you’re peaceful when you sleep.”

you groan and bury your face in her arm. “don’t look at me like that.”

she laughs quietly. “and you’re warm, i didn’t want to move.”

you stay there a while longer, the silence easier now. then something tugs at you. “i’m sorry.”

she doesn’t respond right away. “about what?”

“about how we’re still…like this,” your voice is small. “no labels, no real plan — i really need to fix myself.”

she lifts a hand to push your hair back, thumb brushing your temple. “you don’t need fixing, y/n. not for me. i love you the way you are now. and i’ll still love you when that changes.”

you exhale shakily, not sure if it’s relief or fear that floods your chest.

she squeezes your hand to ground you.

“you know when i was a kid,” she adds after a moment, her fingers gently playing with your hair. “i used to imagine running away.

you look up at her. “why?”

“not because i wanted to disappear,” she says softly. “i just wanted to choose who i came back for.”

you don’t say anything.

you just press your face into her neck, grip tightening around her waist while listening to the rhythm of her breathing until you fall asleep again…because maybe that’s what this is. not the end, not even the beginning.

it’s her coming back. and this time, you’re here to open the door for her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the suit bag hangs on the edge of your wardrobe, unzipped and half-open, like it’s waiting to be taken seriously. inside are five options. none of which you picked. sana’s stylist had dropped them off earlier that morning, her usual chirpy self making you try on half of them while sana watched from the bed, cup of coffee balanced on her knee.

now it’s dusk and you’ve been through three shirts, three full outfit changes and a minor crisis about the perfect sock colour. the room smells like sandalwood and setting lotion. your window’s open just slightly, letting in the bite of the air, that particular cold that only ever feels sharp in late december.

sana’s standing behind you, hair already done —glossy, parted perfectly with the ends curling. she’s wearing a black suit, white shirt buttoned down enough to make you look twice. or three times. the fabric clings at her waist and loosens again at her hips.

it’s unfair. criminal, even…to look that good.

you’re standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the cuff of a white shirt that isn’t yours.

“this one’s too tight,” you complain, tugging at the collar. “i look like i’m going to cry at prom.”

“you always look like that,” she replies, flicking through jackets on hangers. “it’s part of your charm.”

you glare at her through the mirror and she laughs at your own expense without bothering to look up.

you’re staring.

of course you are.

“you’re staring at me again,” she says, not even looking up.

“you look ridiculous,” you reply.

“that’s not what your face is saying.” she lifts the black lapel of a suit jacket and gives you a side glance, smug. “should we match, bub?”

you cross the room before you even decide to. she’s still smiling when you reach her, but it drops slightly — just enough to tell you she knows.

you don’t think.

you’re already up before she can finish her sentence. your hand finds her waist, and then her back, and then her mouth. the kiss lands hard and sure, pulling her in until her spine meets the wall beside your wardrobe. she lets out a surprised sound that turns into a low laugh against your lips when your hands grip her tighter than you mean to.

she tastes like spearmint and skin warmed by sunlight. everything else fades — your open window, the hum of the street below, the muted rustle of ryujin and yunjin bickering in the hallway.

your entire world narrows to the sound of her breathing, quick and uneven, her hands slipping beneath your shirt; not greedy, never, just holding you in place.

when you finally pull away, you’re still gently cupping her face as she blinks slowly, breath catching.

“you’re such an ass,” she starts, voice rough. “you’re really going to do that an hour before i introduce you to my entire bloodline?”

“hmm,” you murmur, forehead pressed to hers. “seemed like the right time.”

she exhales a laugh and shoves your shoulder lightly, but she doesn’t move away. her lips are redder now, eyes much darker. you like how she looks like this — just a little undone.

“you’re the one in a suit,” you continue, a shit-eating grin plastered on your face. “this is your fault.”

she kisses you again — just once, before tapping your chest. “grey suit. last one on the rack. wear the white shirt with the pearl buttons.”

you raise an eyebrow. “you sure?”

“you’ll make everyone nervous,” she confirms, unbuttoning the shirt you just complained about. “it’s perfect.”

when you finally walk out of your room — now dressed, hair styled and tie slightly crooked on purpose, ryujin and yunjin are waiting in the living room in matching red dresses that clearly weren’t planned but still managed to look coordinated.

yunjin looks up from her phone. “are you two done making out?”

sana’s behind you, still adjusting your collar from the back. “oh,” she says lightly. “what gave it away?”

they groan in unison, ryujin grabbing a cushion to half-heartedly throw at you. “disgusting.”

“embarrassing,” yunjin adds.

you just roll your eyes, cheeks still warm.

the minatozaki family meet every year in seoul a few days before christmas, no matter how scattered they are across time zones or industries. they are old money, after all, operating like a boardroom with laughter; polite, but rarely without genuine warmth.

it’s all carefully curated holiday cards, biannual art acquisitions and a shared family lawyer who’s probably been with them longer than most cousins have been alive. and they’re big on tradition, binding them like a woven thread across generations.

sana once told you that missing the family holiday party would be a bigger scandal than missing a wedding of the year. no one has ever dared skip it — not even the cousin who got stranded in switzerland one year; he video called in wearing a tux.

the venue this year is a five-star hotel in gangnam; just one of those buildings with glass facades and understated signage. as soon as you walk inside, the ballroom is glowing with golden lights and crystal fixtures, the chandeliers dimmed to a soft glitter. waiters move between clusters of people with trays of champagne and tiny canapés.

she walks beside you, hand in yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you hear ryujin swear while yunjin nervously fidgets around. her other hand rests lightly on your lower back as she steers you through the room, the guests are all family, more or less: great-uncles and cousins and elders you can’t quite place.

everyone already knows. there’s no guessing involved. they all smile at you politely, a few with surprise but no one dares to question your presence.

her mother hugs you as soon as she sees you, still smelling faintly of lavender and expensive tea.

“finally,” she sighs in relief, smiling. “we were starting to think you were imaginary.”

her father smiles approvingly while eyeing your blazer. “you look very sharp, you wear the colour well.”

you thank him, a little awkwardly, and sana leans in to whisper, “he only says that to people he really likes.”

you laugh, brushing her fingers with yours.

throughout the evening, relatives come and go in waves. they ask what you’re doing after graduation, if you’ve thought about law firms abroad, if you would consider working in japan. you answer each one as politely as you can and they nod like they’re taking mental notes.

sana’s grip never wavers. this is the difference.

with her, there’s no hesitation. she doesn’t shrink you and make you feel like something to be hidden. she says: this is y/n like that means something…it has to.

you think about that as the night goes on. how strange and comforting it is, not to be the shadow in someone else’s story. she’s proud. of you. and the whole room knows it.

then, somewhere between dessert and after-dinner drinks, an uncle announces the annual family photo. the photographer’s already setting up near the grand staircase, light stands flaring against the high ceilings.

you start to step back, figuring this part isn’t for you, when she tugs you gently by the wrist.

“and where do you think you’re going?” she asks, an eyebrow raised in that demanding tone too.

you glance at her. “i figured i’d stay out of the frame.”

“don’t be stupid,” she shakes her head, tone now soft, not scolding.

she brings you forward, weaving through her cousins and uncles, until her mother sees you both and waves you in closer. the photographer arranges everyone once again, gesturing toward the centre of the front row.

sana takes your hand and leads you there — right beside her, between her and her mother like you’ve always belonged.

“this okay?” she murmurs.

you nod slowly.

“good,” she fixes your collar, smooths your jacket, then slips her hand into yours again.

her father smiles at you two and her mother wraps an arm around your waist like it’s second nature.

when the photo is taken, sana’s thumb gently brushes against your knuckles. you’ve never felt more seen in your life.

later on, sana excuses herself to the bathroom and you’re suddenly cornered by ryujin and yunjin near the dessert table. they both have shit-eating grins on their faces like they’ve been here before.

“so,” ryujin begins, popping up beside you with a glass of wine, “you’re marrying another heir of a billion-dollar company? what’s this obsession with rich people? when i said ‘eat the rich’, i didn’t mean in a literal sense.”

you nearly choke on a piece of almond tart. “what the hell are you on about this time?”

“we didn’t realise,” yunjin perches in from the other side. “like, you know, she had this vibe of maxed-out platinum card and four overdue bills she refuses to open.”

“i thought that girl was dangerously living beyond her meanest,” ryujin mutters. “like…’it’s crippling, i’m gonna run away eventually’ kind of debt.”

“and giselle used to pray you never had to cover any of her bills,” yunjin laughs. “she was scared for you.”

“you’re all idiots,” you say, but your cheeks are warm. you sip your wine and glance around the room — gold, velvet, soft laughter under chandeliers.

“seriously,” yunjin continues, nudging you. “how does it feel?”

you pause, thinking about it. “honestly? it feels…nice. to belong in the room, be held like this isn’t something anyone’s ashamed of.”

they go quiet.

and then ryujin offers you a mini tart she already bit once. “you earned it.”

you roll your eyes and take it anyway. you’re halfway through your first glass of champagne when nayeon somehow ends up in front of you. ryujin and yunjin shyly greet her before running away to the bar.

“well, well,” she says, appearing at your elbow like a headline. “if it isn’t little top-of-her-class.”

you nearly choke. “hello to you too, nayeon.”

“you didn’t think you’d escape me, did you?” she laughs, pulling you into a hug. she still smells like endless paperwork. “look at you — looking all grown.”

“you’re not still in that securities firm, are you?”

“worse: corporate advisory. mina’s still keeping me sane.”

as if summoned, mina appears beside her, dressed in an ivory pantsuit and the kind of earrings that could probably pay your rent.

“hey,” she smiles, eyes warm. “it’s really good to see you.”

“you too,” you say honestly. “both of you.”

nayeon leans in. “we always knew you and sana were going to find your way back to each other. she was such a mess about you in undergrad.”

they were two of sana’s closest friends at yonsei. both a few years older than you and practically royalty in their own right; effortlessly composed and always surrounded by people who wanted to be close to them — or be them.

you used to see them around often when you and sana were first getting close. they never treated you unkindly…in fact, nayeon always greeted you with a loud “oh, you again?” and mina would smile quietly, handing you a drink like you already belonged. they were your seniors in every way: in age; in experience; in the kinds of heartbreaks and head starts that come with growing up too fast in worlds you barely feel like you belong in.

even now, years later, the sight of them still pulls something warm and nostalgic from your chest. they remind you of a different time — the nights you stood by sana’s side…feeling small but safe, never knowing just how much she would come to mean to you years down the line.

“i was not,” sana says, appearing behind you with two plates of dessert.

“please,” nayeon rolls her eyes. “she used to leave dinners just to call you and then cry about how complicated everything was.”

“used to?” mina murmurs, eyebrow raised. “i think the streak ended, what — last year?”

you give sana a look. “so i’ve heard.”

she hands you a plate and shrugs. “they’re exaggerating.”

“you used to leave parties to sit in stairwells and call her.”

“i was dramatic.”

“you cried.”

she waves them off, then glances at you with a crooked grin. “they’re jealous.”

“of what?”

“that you’re the first person i’ve ever brought here.”

“what?” you blink in disbelief, mouth already full of something sweet and expensive. “no dates before me?”

“not here,” she repeats. “this place is family.”

“so i’m special.”

she rolls her eyes, a teasing smile appearing in the corners of her mouth. “you literally dumped me and i’m still here, so yeah.”

you nudge her, she bumps your shoulder back.

mina watches you both with a quiet smile. “i’m glad you’re here, y/n. you’re both good for each other.”

it takes you a second to absorb that because you do. for the first time in years, maybe ever, you’re in a room full of people who know each other’s names, whose approval isn’t cautious or polite but warm and unconditional — and you’re not being hidden.

it’s late by the time the car rolls through empty streets. the city lights pass like slow waves against the windows. you’re both a little buzzed from wine, shoes kicked off, blazers draped in your laps.

sana’s fingers are still laced with yours, she looks softer now. her voice quieter as she talks to you, like the world is shrinking back to just the two of you.

your hand rests lightly on her thigh, thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of her trousers.

“can i ask you something?” you murmur.

“you’re allowed,” she replies, tilting her head toward you.

“so why have you not brought anyone to this party?”

her brow lifts, leaning her head back against the seat. “honestly?”

you nod.

“you’re the first,” she begins to explain. “because you scare me a little, you never asked to be here — you just…showed up and made space without needing to take any.”

you stare at her, a little breathless.

she turns to look at you fully, her expression is open. “it’s always been you, even when it wasn’t.”

you swallow hard.

the car still moves quietly through the city, lights passing over the windows in slow, golden waves. and you think, for the first time in a long time, that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s christmas day and sana’s family home is lit like something from an old winter painting. the snow clings to the trees and lines the edges of the roof like icing. and there’s warmth in every room inside; everything made out of oak in that traditional japanese sense.

you’ve never had a christmas like this.

there are matching slippers at the door, monogrammed napkins and the kind of table setting that makes you hesitate before sitting down. the candles flicker low between you all, flames catching on the wine glasses as her father lifts his to inspect the pour.

he sits at the head of the table, sleeves rolled, wine glass already half full. “not too much,” he chuckles, topping yours off. “don’t want you falling asleep before dessert.”

“no promises,” you reply, and he laughs louder; shoulders shaking and all

it’s just the four of you. no cousins, no extended family or staff pacing in the background. sana sits beside you, ankles crossed under the table, her hand brushing your thigh every now and then like she’s checking that you’re still here.

“your parents must miss you,” her mum says, spooning rice into her own bowl. “have you called them yet?”

you shake your head. “not yet, i was waiting until things quieted down.”

“call them now,” sana says softly, nudging your foot under the table. “you can put it on speaker.”

you hesitate, but her mum is already nodding. “that would be great, we would love to say hello.”

your phone is in your pocket so you fish it out, glancing at the time — still early evening in switzerland. you press call. the dial tone hums once, then twice and then your mum picks up.

“merry christmas, darling!”

“hi, mum,” you greet, smiling. “you’re on speaker.”

“oh?”

“i’m with sana’s parents,” you explain. “they wanted to say hi.”

sana’s dad leans forward. “merry christmas, hope you’re both having the best time,” he waves, warm and clear.

you can hear the delight in your mother’s voice. “oh, how lovely! thank you for hosting our daughter this year. we were sorry she couldn’t come with us.”

“she’s very welcome here,” her mum adds. “we’re happy to have her.”

sana chimes in next, her voice light. “hi, mr and mrs y/l/n. thanks for raising the most stubborn woman alive.”

your father’s voice comes through faintly in the background. “you’ve got your hands full, then.”

they all laugh and you feel your face warm. it feels good.

“we’ll let you go enjoy dinner,” your mum adds after a minute more of cheerful noise and small talk. “we’ll talk properly tomorrow.”

you hang up and sana squeezes your knee gently beneath the table.

her father’s already mid-sip of his wine when he says, “so, this firm you’re joining — under the kim family?”

“yes, taehyung’s dad offered me a placement earlier in the year.”

he snorts. “sounds about right; that man’s sharp. got his claws into you before the others could.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “he was persuasive.”

“a good sign,” he nods, raising his glass. “people chase talent, it means you’re doing something right if you’ve got one of south korea’s richest men to persuade you.”

you hum and it settles over you: the warmth, the acceptance, the easy rhythm of it all. there’s no tension in your shoulders and you don’t feel the need to read between words or brace yourself for correction — it’s a slow meal with people who see you as someone worth being proud of.

not tolerated nor excused, but welcomed with open arms.

dinner finishes with tea and fruits. sana’s mum brings out small velvet boxes and pushes one toward you. you hesitate, glance at sana, who’s smiling gently.

“we said no gifts.”

“and we ignored it,” her mum replies.

you open it carefully.

inside is a watch; silver and elegant, the weight of it immediately grounding as you glance at the name richard mille.

jesus christ, you thought.

beside it, wrapped in a velvet slip, is a gold pen with your initials carved at the top of it.

you’ve seen something like this pen before. on sana’s desk, in her hand, tucked into her notebook. she mentioned she got it at eighteen.

you look up, words forming slowly. “this is too much.”

“nonsense,” her father groans. “you’re part of our lives now; get used to it.”

you don’t trust your voice enough to speak, so you nod, fingers curling around the velvet like it’ll anchor you.

they don’t need thanks drawn out and scripted; you know their kindness doesn’t ask for anything in return and that’s the part that stings the most. you never knew you could be carried like this without having to earn it.

and when the table’s been cleared and the kitchen grows quiet and her parents disappear up the stairs with soft goodnights and kind glances, it’s just you and sana again — on the living room floor, legs stretched toward the fireplace, two glasses of wine resting on the table between you.

the fire crackles quietly, the only real sound in the room. you can still hear music faintly from the kitchen; jazz, maybe, but the rest of the world has dimmed.

your head leans slightly against her shoulder. she doesn’t move.

you’re full in every sense of the word. full of food, of warmth, of something else you haven’t named yet. and then your phone buzzes.

you feel the vibration in your pocket before the ring even begins.

it’s faint, easily ignorable, except something in your body registers it before your mind does. you shift slightly, ease your hand into your pocket, still curled up beside her in front of the fire.

the screen lights up and her name flashes once.

karina.

the air feels colder all of a sudden. your stomach twists, a quiet clench that catches you off guard. beside you, sana stirs slightly but she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. she sees the screen.

you stand up, too quickly.

“i’ll just — be a minute,” you murmur.

you stand without a word and she doesn’t look up.

you step out onto the balcony, sliding the door closed behind you. the air is cold against your neck, your breath blooming white in the dark.

and you answer before you can talk yourself out of it. “hello?”

her voice is exactly how you remember it — low, careful, like it’s measuring the silence between your words before they’re even spoken.

“hi, merry christmas, y/n.”

you close your eyes for a moment, let the wind bite at your face. “merry christmas, jimin.”

there’s a pause. you hear the hum of something in the background and neither of you speak for a second.

“i wasn’t sure if i should call, but you crossed my mind. i guess…you still do,” she continues, her voice is so small it barely carries on top of the breeze. “but i didn’t want to let the day pass without…saying it. i know you were excited for christmas.”

your hand curls around the edge of the railing, feeling the ache before it even takes shape. it’s not a painful, but more like the kind that’s been dulled by time but not erased.

“how are you?” you ask, unsure what to say next.

jimin exhales a shaky breath. “i’ve been better, but my parents are still asking if i’ve managed to win you back,” she lets out something close to a laugh, but it doesn’t reach her chest. “they say it like it’s a job — think they really wanted to know you more.”

you let the silence settle for a moment. it’s familiar, but it doesn’t hurt the same way anymore. you didn’t need to know any of that; no longer have the right to.

“how’s…jaewook?”

she’s quiet for a second too long. “umm, yeah, we broke up the day after that night i saw you. i think i knew i couldn’t keep lying to him and myself after that.”

you chew the inside of your cheek, the words settling slowly, heavy but unsurprising.

“i’m sorry,” you croak out.

“don’t be,” she replies. “i should’ve ended it a long time ago.”

the wind whistles faintly between the railing bars. you adjust your weight, heart beating a little harder than you would like.

“are you happy?” she asks; it’s barely more than a whisper. “with her?”

your breath catches with how much weight the questoon carries. you look through the frosted glass, into the house where sana still sits, curled into the couch, waiting patiently — warm and steady.

“yeah,” you reply after a second. “we’re…taking things slow. but it’s real; she’s real.”

she doesn’t reply right away either. when she does, her voice is rougher than before. “good.”

you believe her, mostly, or at least you want to.

“i’m glad,” she continues, though there’s something behind it…like she’s letting go of something without knowing if it’s the last time.

the silence comes back, thicker this time.

“thank you for calling,” you tell her, meaning it. “it’s really good to hear from you.”

you hear her exhale, something like a smile buried in it. “take care of yourself.”

“you too.”

the call ends.

you watch the snow fall for a few more seconds, then slide the phone back into your pocket, letting the cold seep into your skin just to feel everything clearly.

it was kind, that call. necessary, maybe. but you don’t feel unsteady and you don’t feel torn.

it feels…finished.

sana looks up as you return. she doesn’t move, but her face has changed, ever so slightly — like something pulled rigidly just beneath her eyes.

you feel it settle between you like a window left open just a little too long.

“if you ever want to go back to her,” she suddenly voices out, tone sorrowful: “i won’t hold it against you, i knew what i was getting myself into. and you don’t owe me anything at all.”

your heart drops as you stare at the fire for a second longer before you speak. “sana, baby, i want to keep moving with you.”

the words sit between you, unfurling slowly. she nods. once. but you can see how tightly she’s holding herself together.

under the couch, you pull out the small box you had been keeping for her. it’s not wrapped well and the corners are uneven and you had to tape the bottom twice because you suck at wrapping gifts — but you place it on her lap anyway.

“this is for you.”

she looks at you, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. she doesn’t reach for the gift right away. instead, she unwraps it slowly, fingers catching at the tape.

inside is a square canvas — the edges still a little rough where the paint dried too fast. it’s the two of you, sitting on a bench in that quiet park from that night. backs facing the viewer, just two figures with shoulders leaning in, hair caught in a breeze. nothing fancy, but it’s unmistakably you and her.

you wait while she stares at it.

then: “you painted this?”

you nod. your voice shakes a little. “a few weeks ago.”

her eyes flicker up. they’re glossy now and it breaks something open in your chest. she doesn’t speak for a long time, just holding the frame in both hands like she’s afraid it’ll slip.

you shift a little closer.

“i know we didn’t take a photo that day, we were both too drunk,” you explain, a smile on your face. “but i remember it. i remember thinking that if anything in my life ever felt like home again, it would be that moment — us under the stars, quietly figuring ourselves out.”

her breath hitches.

“i’m still scared,” you admit. “i still think i might mess this up. i still wake up sometimes not sure if i deserve any of it. but i want to try. you’re so, so, so important to me, sana, i never want to lose you again.”

the tears spill slowly, she doesn’t even bother hiding them.

“you’re such a jerk,” she mumbles through a soft laugh. “you couldn’t have said all that before the wine?”

you smile, a little helpless. “sorry.”

she puts the painting down carefully and reaches for your hand. “you won’t lose me, not this time.”

you pull her in gently and she lets you, arms wrapping tight around your waist, the painting resting carefully against her side.

“you matter to me,” you whisper. “always.”

“i know,” she says. “i just needed to hear you say it.”

and so you do. again and again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you wake to the dull hum of your phone vibrating on the nightstand. you don’t reach for it straight away — your eyes are still adjusting. and sana’s breath is warm against your neck, she shifts slightly, murmuring something in her sleep and her arm curls tighter around your waist.

the screen glows again. this time you blink fully awake and glance over.

but the sound doesn’t stop. it pulses again —persistent. you shift, groggy, reaching toward the nightstand where your phone is lighting up.

karina is calling…

“the fuck?” you let out a quiet sigh through your nose, staring at the screen like maybe, if you’re still enough, it’ll stop ringing.

it doesn’t. the digits blur slightly — 2:31 a.m.

sana stirs behind you. “who is it?” her voice is still caught in sleep, soft and heavy.

“it’s…jimin,” you mumble out in slight disbelief. “she’s calling, should i answer?”

you half expect her to roll away, to go quiet like last time. but instead, she rests her hand against your shoulder and says, gently: “answer it.”

you turn to her. “are you sure?”

she nods; her hair’s messy against the pillow, eyes barely open, but she still offers you a small, understanding smile. “i know what it’s like…to be the one who never gets the call back.”

your heart aches at that, but you nod and slide off the bed quietly, grabbing your hoodie from the chair as you step out into the lounge room.

you swipe to answer. “hello, jimin?”

you’re already halfway down the hallway, bare feet padding softly against the hardwood, heart thumping as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

her voice cracks instantly through the speaker. “you answered…i wasn’t sure.”

it’s messy — slurred, uneven, like her tongue’s too slow to keep up with her mouth. there’s noise in the background. a car maybe, or the wind, it’s nothing solid.

“are you okay?” you ask. “where are you?”

“i don’t know,” she breathes. you can hear her sniffle. “i didn’t want to call, i just — i couldn’t not. fuck, i sound so stupid.”

your brows furrow, concern rising. you drop onto the couch, pressing the phone harder to your ear.

“jimin, what’s going on? are you out?”

“i wanted to see you,” she answers, voice trembling. “i keep wanting to see you. i keep seeing you. it’s like — everything i do reminds me of you and i don’t even know if you care anymore. do you still care?”

you sit down on the couch, rubbing at your temple. “what more do you want from me?”

“you,” she says it so fast like it’s always been waiting behind her teeth. “i want you back.”

you close your eyes. “karina…”

“don’t, don’t say it like that, don’t say it in that tone like you pity me.”

you run a hand through your hair, staring at the dark screen of the tv in front of you. “you’re drunk, can you please send me your location?”

“you still care?” she asks, voice wobbling. “you still care about me, don’t you?”

you don’t answer that. instead, you repeat, firmer this time, “send me your location. please.”

she sniffs, quiet for a moment. then the familiar ping of a map drops into your phone. “you didn’t answer me…”

“stay on the line,” you demand. and she doesn’t argue.

you get up from the couch, walking back toward the bedroom. sana’s sitting up now, pulling her hair back into a bun. the bedside lamp is on, casting soft yellow against the walls. she looks tired, but she’s already pointing at her bag.

“keys are in the front pocket,” she gestures you over with a sleepy, understanding smile.

you lean in, press your mouth to her temple, then her cheek, her skin warm and soft against your lips. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be,” she cups your jaw gently. “all i want is for you to bring her home safe.”

“i’ll be back soon,” you whisper.

“i know.”

you slip your shoes on at the door, phone still pressed to your ear as you speak quietly to jimin, who’s gone quiet but hasn’t hung up.

“hey,” you say. “i’m coming to get you, okay?”

there’s no response at first. then: “okay.”

the street is cold and quiet, light snow from the previous night still melting in uneven patches along the curb. you get in the car, engine humming to life with your hand tight on the wheel. you glance once at the rearview mirror and try not to think too hard about where this night is headed.

because even now — even with sana asleep in your bed, with your life finally steady, with love that doesn’t hurt — you’re still driving out into the dark when jimin calls and a part of you hates that you always will.

the streets are empty this late. seoul feels softer somehow, the edges dulled by the chill and the quiet. traffic lights flicker through amber and red, casting slow glows against the frost on your windscreen. the heater hums low.

while jimin’s still on the line, she’s quiet now, only the sound of her sniffling breaking through. you don’t say anything. there’s nothing left to say in the silence and yet you stay on the call.

you drive with one hand on the wheel, the other holding the phone to your ear, her breath moving in and out like waves.

the location leads you to a quiet side street near a convenience store. a line of taxis sits idle nearby, lights off, drivers probably asleep. you see her before she sees you — curled up on a bench, knees pulled tight to her chest, hair tousled and damp. her coat’s buttoned wrong and she looks smaller than you remember.

the sight of her like this does something strange to your chest — splits it, gently, like an old wound reopening along its scar line. you hadn’t realised how deeply the memory of her lived in your body.

but you get out anyway.

each step toward her feels like walking underwater. heavy and unreal. it’s not like the movies; there’s no music, no chatter, not even the buzz of the neon bar sign — just the sound of your boots crunching over ice and her small, wracked breaths in the distance.

she looks up; mascara smudged under both eyes, blinking like she’s not sure if you’re really here.

“you came,” she speaks, voice shaking. “you actually came.”

you crouch down beside her. “of course i did.”

it’s not even a sentence, really. her lips part like she wants to speak, but nothing comes out except a new wave of tears. she breaks immediately — no hesitation, no pride left to cling to. she just folds into you like muscle memory, like all those months apart didn’t stretch the distance between your bodies.

her arms lock around your neck, shoulders shaking violently, the kind of crying that comes from somewhere deeper than sadness.

grief, maybe. or realisation.

“you look so much happier now,” she mumbles into your sleeve, voice muffled in between breaths. “with sana. i see it in your face…you never looked at me like that.”

“that’s not true,” you reassure her. “

she puts a slight distance between you two, wiping her face with the sleeve of her coat instead. her eyes are swollen, cheeks red from the cold. “i ruined it. i ruined everything.

you look at her, really take a good look at her. the way her lips are chapped, she looks so tired. you wonder if she’s eaten today.

if she’s still trying to pretend she’s okay to everyone but you.

“maybe,” you say gently. “but that doesn’t mean i hate you.”

she laughs bitterly through her tears. “you should.”

“i don’t,” you say again. “you loved me in the way you could…it just wasn’t enough.”

the words feel cruel even as you say them, but they’re honest. and maybe she needs that more than kindness right now.

you guide her to the car with gentle hands, barely saying a word. she’s compliant but stumbling, half-apologising through her sobs. her coat slips off one shoulder, and you pull it up, fasten the belt for her. the seatbelt clicks into place and you pass her the water bottle from the centre console.

“drink some of this, you need it.”

she obeys. she always does with you, even now. she’s still crying — softly, into the crook of her elbow. you start the car and pull into the road without asking where to go.

you already know.

the han river’s quiet this time of night. empty car park, the kind of silence you used to share like a secret. back then, it felt like the only place in the city where you could breathe together.

no lights except the scattered halos of streetlamps catching on the water. you pull into the spot she used to love — far left corner, facing the ripples.neither of you speak right away.

the engine hums low on the background.

“i used to take you here every time i ran out of things to say,” she whispers. her voice is hoarse. “and somehow you always found more.”

you turn to her. she’s staring out at the river like it holds every answer she was too scared to look for back then. her hands tremble as she sets the water down to her lap.

“why did i do that?” she asks, voice small. “why did i lie to you every time i told you i was choosing you? why did i make you believe that?”

you don’t know how to answer. you’ve asked yourself the same thing, over and over. back then it felt like she was always reaching for you with one hand and holding something else in the other.

you wanted her to choose, you waited for it. but she never did.

“i was so scared,” she admits, eyes glistening again. “not of you. of what it meant to love you that much and the expectations already set out for me in stone.”

you remain quiet because your throat aches with too much of everything. she reaches for your hand, like she’s checking to see if it’s still real.

you watch the water shimmer through the windshield, her reflection blurring next to yours in the glass. “i tried so hard to let you go, but i think i just…folded you into every part of me instead.”

“i hated myself for how i treated you,” jimin continued, her voice cracking again. “i still do.”

“don’t,” you finally look at her. “you were scared. people make stupid choices when they’re scared.”

“you weren’t,” she lets out a pained sob. “you never were. you always chose me, even when it hurt. even when i couldn’t say your name out loud.”

“and you’re punishing yourself for not being ready, but that’s not love, jimin. it’s guilt. and it’s going to eat you alive if you let it.”

you both sit there for a long time, her head resting against the window and her hand still holding yours.

she folds over again, body racked with sobs, and you do what you’ve always done — you hold her. her head lands onto your shoulder this time and she grips your sleeve like it’s the only solid thing left in the world.

at some point, you find tears slipping out of your eyes too. not because you still want her, not in that way. but because once, you really did. and that kind of loss never leaves quietly.

you stroke her hair slowly, the silence stretching around you like a blanket pulled tight. it’s not cold anymore, but you’re both shivering from everything else.

then, your phone buzzes. sana. asking if you’re still there…but it feels like a different question, like it holds another meaning than just there.

“we should go,” you heave out a sigh. “sana’s waiting for me.”

“okay,” she nods quietly. “okay, we can do that.”

she’s quiet when you drive her home. her hand stays in yours the whole ride, resting on the centre console, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

nothing needs to be said now.

when you pull up outside her building, she doesn’t move at first. she just turns to you, eyes full and steady. she hesitates. and then, barely above a whisper: “will you stay with me tonight?”

you pause, heart twisting, then stills. “no,” you say, as gently as you can. “i can’t.”

she nods, like she expected that answer but it still wounds her. “this is goodbye, isn’t it?”

you look over at her. “i…yeah. i think so.”

she reaches out, touches your cheek gently, her fingers cold but still familiar. you shake your head, but she leans in, presses her forehead against yours and keeps going. “if i ever get another chance…i’ll do it right.”

your eyes sting and having her this close again makes your chest ache. “jimin —“

her voice is barely a whisper now, her tears falling on your lap. “if i have to wait a lifetime, i will. if not this one, then the next.”

you don’t promise anything, but you press your forehead to hers for a moment longer and then pull away.

“please go inside,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “goodnight, jimin.”

she nods and steps out of the car — doesn’t look back but you can see the way her shoulders shake. you watch her walk away until she disappears into the building, and only then do you let the tears fall freely.

it’s not love anymore, not quite. but it’s still something. maybe it always will be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you don’t mean to make a big deal of it. not really.

the sky’s that bright blue that means late spring is almost over and it’s warm enough that the breeze coming off the han river barely makes a difference.

sana’s leaning back on her elbows, the grass soft beneath the blanket she insisted on bringing. it’s the same one from the last time — the one you two fell asleep under after sneaking snacks into a campus lawn movie night months ago. you’re both stretched out at yeouido park, iced coffee mostly melted between you, the soft hum of people around blending with the low strum of an acoustic busker in the distance.

you should be focused on your book but you’re not. you’ve been reading the same paragraph three times; she keeps tapping your ankle with hers. she’s got sunglasses on, head tilted back like she’s soaking in the last of the coldness before summer pulls it away.

“you’re staring,” she says, not looking at you, her mouth tugged up into the smallest smirk. “i can feel it.”

“i’m not,” you lie, flipping the page like that’ll save you.

she doesn’t push, just keeps tapping your ankle lazily, her foot warm against yours. you want to tell her to stop because it’s driving you mad, the affection of it.

the way she still treats you like someone precious, even when you’ve made her wait all this time.

you glance sideways at her. her lips are soft and she’s wearing your hoodie. she smells like the inside of your pillow. and when she turns her head to face you — sunglasses sliding down a little — you feel it all at once.

every slow moment you’ve spent together since winter. the little things. the movie nights, the long drives, the way she remembers how you take your coffee. how she’s never made you feel like loving her is a countdown to goodbye.

and god, you love her.

you set your book down. “hey, sana.”

she hums.

“can we —” you falter. clear your throat. “can we make this official?”

that gets her. she pushes her sunglasses up onto her head, blinks at you like she didn’t hear you right. “what?”

you sit up straighter, stomach twisting. “i mean…i want to be with you. like, actually with you. if you still want that.”

she’s silent for a second too long, in the way you know she’s replaying your words, making sure they’re real. her smile starts in her eyes before it reaches her lips.

“you’re asking me to be your girlfriend,” she repeats slowly, softly, like she wants to savour it.

you nod, heart thudding. “yeah.”

“finally,” she lets out a breath, practically laughs, and then leans forward, pulling you in by the front of your hoodie and kissing you, full and slow and warm like sunlight. it’s like she’s known it would happen, eventually, and now it has. her hands cradle your face as she pulls away. “took you long enough.”

you smile against her lips, relief blooming in your chest. “sorry.”

“i forgive you,” she grins. “but only because you’re cute.”

you groan, bury your face in her shoulder. “i should’ve asked you when you brought me coffee every morning for a week. or when you stayed up all night helping me with my thesis draft.”

“or when my parents bought you that fancy watch for christmas.”

“okay, yes, that too.”

she plays with the hem of your sleeve. “i would’ve said yes every time.”

you look down at her fingers brushing yours. “i know.”

and you do. you really do…because that’s the difference with sana. with her, there’s no guessing. just quiet loyalty, kindness that doesn’t make you feel small.

you both lie back again, the moment settling into your bones. she squeezes your hand once and doesn’t let go and the grass rustles beside you.

you don’t say anything more. you don’t need to. she knows.

and somewhere, maybe not too far off, you think of jimin — how some things burn out before they ever have the chance to be steady. how sometimes, it’s not about who makes your heart race, but who makes it feel safe to stay.

today, you chose safety. and maybe that’s what love is now. not the ache of almost, but the warmth of finally.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fuck, you didn’t plan on seeing her.

not today of all days — when you’re feeling light, even content, walking along the street with a brown paper bag in hand, the apricot pastry tucked neatly inside.

sana had texted you earlier, something about being stuck in a last-minute campaign, promising to make it up to you with takeout and terrible reality tv.

but campus is small, specially after graduation. the cafés are familiar and the corners shared.

jimin.

she’s sitting alone outside, cup of americano going cold in front of her, a book she isn’t reading open on her lap. her hair’s even shorter now, blunt around her jaw and she’s dressed in black again, like she’s always bracing for winter, even in the middle of summer.

you think of walking past or turning around, but your feet don’t move fast enough and she looks up like clockwork — and there it is. the recognition and the pause. her eyes soften the second they land on you and she lifts a hand in a small wave.

your feet begin walk over. there’s no ache in your chest now. it’s something softer; nostalgic.

“hey y/n,” she smiles, a bit brighter now.

“jimin!” you sit across from her, slipping the bag onto your lap. your heart isn’t racing like before, now it’s a steady thrum, a quiet reminder of everything you used to feel.

“hey,” she repeats, voice low.

still familiar. still jimin.

“hi, how are you doing?”

“i’m well,” her lips twitch into something like a smile. “you look good.”

you shrug. “so do you. different…i like the short hair, it’s good.”

it’s awkward in a way it always is with exes…or whatever you two were.

she nods slowly, as if she knows. “i feel different.”

you glance at the book on her table — something classic, spine cracked, pages annotated in the way she always used to do when she was trying to understand something deeply. you used to love watching her read like that, as if the words meant everything and they were a map.

“i heard about you and sana,” she adds after a beat. not bitter, just factual. “and graduating top of your class isn’t an easy feat; i’m so proud of you.”

you nod again, it means a lot coming from her. “we’re doing well.”

there’s a pause. then she says: “she’s good to you.”

“she always has been.”

and jimin looks down, eyes on her coffee. her voice is steady when she speaks; “i’ve been thinking a lot. about everything. about how i was with you. with jaewook, with…myself.”

you don’t say anything. just listen.

“after you,” she continues, “i tried to fill the space with noise. with him. with plans that didn’t belong to me. i thought maybe if i pretended hard enough, it’d go away. the guilt and the wanting.”

you watch her hands as she speaks. they’re calmer now. no shaking, no nervous twitching. just open palms, resting on her lap.

“i broke up with jaewook a few weeks after that night at the restaurant. i didn’t tell anyone. i think part of me was still waiting for you to come back.”

your chest tightens — not painfully, but enough to remind you that the past isn’t as far away as you sometimes pretend.

“but you didn’t,” she adds. “and i’m glad you didn’t because it forced me to stop waiting and start…choosing.”

you tilt your head slightly. “choosing?”

“myself. finally,” she lets out a breath. “i’m taking over the family business.”

that makes you blink. “really?”

she nods, chuckling. “yeah, i always thought it was a sentence. something i’d be trapped in. but now it’s…mine. i want to do it right. make something out of it that means something. not because they told me to — but because i want to.”

you can’t help it; you smile. for her; with her, because you can recognise how far she’s come.

“i’m proud of you for deciding on that; jimin, the ceo of yu group — can’t believe i get to say i knew her.”

jimin looks up then, really stares at you. and for a second, you see her as she was when you first fell in love — messy-haired, sharp-tongued, eyes always searching for something to hold onto.

“thank you for loving me the way you did. i was too young to understand it at the time, too scared and stupid.”

you nod slowly, the words settling somewhere deep inside. “i used to wish you’d been braver.”

“i know,” she smiles, a little sad. “i wish i had been too.”

you both sit there for a while, letting the silence do what words can’t. there’s nothing sharp in the air anymore. no what-ifs or if-onlys; just two people who survived each other.

“i miss you,” she admits, finally.

you meet her gaze. “i miss you too, but i don’t miss us.”

it’s gentle, the way you say it, but you can see it hit her — the truth of it. she doesn’t cry and doesn’t reach for you. instead, breathes in then out.

“and thank you for loving me when i didn’t know how to love you back properly.”

you smile, soft at the edges. “you taught me a lot. even in the mess of it.”

she laughs, a little broken, a little healed. “that’s the nicest way anyone’s ever told me i was a total disaster.”

you smile shyly too, brushing imaginary dust off your jeans. “take care of yourself, jimin.”

“you too,” she says. “and y/n?”

you pause.

“if you ever need someone to have your back — even if it’s from far away — it’ll always be me. what i said that night…i meant it. in every lifetime.”

your throat tightens, offering her a small smile. “i know.”

you walk away, heart strangely light. there’s no heaviness, but you carry the knowledge that some people are lessons. and some are homes.

sana’s probably waiting for you back at the apartment now, with her soft playlists and too-large jumpers and the smell of peppermint tea she always forgets to finish, wondering if you remembered the name of the pastry this time.

you did; and this time, you’re bringing it home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

[dina-winchester]

Wrong Turn, Right Arms

Pairing: Dean Winchester x You // Established relationship

Summary: Living with your boyfriend is great… until his brother gets flashbanged by your bare ass at 7 AM.

Warnings: Um—mentions of nudity, I guess? Fluffy domestic, slightly spicy, comedy

You were warm. That kind of warm that only came from tangled limbs under bunker-thick sheets, skin on skin, and Dean’s lazy morning breath tickling the back of your neck.

His arm was slung low around your waist, heavy and protective. One of his legs had somehow gotten wedged between yours in the middle of the night, and now you were trapped in a very naked human pretzel. Not that you were complaining.

“Morning,” he mumbled against your shoulder, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered, shifting slightly.

Dean’s voice rasped low in your ear, a gruff blend of morning gravel and satisfaction. “You smell like me.”

You smiled into the pillow. “Well, considering how you manhandled me last night…”

He huffed a soft laugh, nuzzling closer, his stubble scraping lightly against your neck. “I should make that a nightly thing.”

“You already do.”

Dean chuckled again, squeezing you. “Damn right.”

It was perfect.

Until your bladder reminded you that comfort has a time limit.

“I need to pee,” you mumbled, stretching slowly like a lazy cat under his arm.

Dean groaned, pressing his face into your neck like you’d just told him the world was ending. “No you don’t. Just stay here. Ignore your internal organs. I’m cuddling you.”

You laughed and pried his hand off your belly with gentle determination, untangling yourself. “You can have me back in two minutes. Bathroom’s across the hall.”

The air was cooler outside the bed, but the bathroom was literally across the hall. Two seconds. Tops.

“You might wanna grab something,” Dean said, voice still muffled in the pillow. “You know, in case Sam’s lurking.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s probably in the kitchen with his fifth cup of health juice or whatever. I’ll be fast.”

Dean didn’t push it. Just grinned and gave your bare ass a light smack as you padded toward the door. “Your funeral.”

You cracked the door open, half-asleep and still wrapped in the haze of Dean’s warmth. One foot out. Then two. Then—

“OHMYGOD—!”

You and Sam both froze like someone had just tossed holy water at you.

He was standing right there. Outside his door. Coffee mug in hand. Eyes wide. Face completely blank except for the overwhelming wave of internal screaming written across it.

You screamed internally too. Then externally.

“NOPE!”

You yanked the door shut so fast it probably rattled the hinges, your heart practically doing a full sprint in your chest. You didn’t even make it to the bathroom. You ran straight back to bed, dove in, and buried yourself under the covers and Dean.

He blinked as you launched into him like a cannonball, squealing, “I SAW SAM I SAW SAM I SAW SAM—”

Dean burst out laughing, the kind of deep, wheezy belly laugh that only made you feel more exposed, more ridiculous. He wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest, burning with embarrassment from the tips of your ears to your toes.

“I told you!” he wheezed. “Didn’t I tell you?!”

“I hate everything,” you groaned into his chest. “I want to dissolve into the floor.”

Dean kissed your hair, still chuckling. “Pretty sure Sam already did.”

You whimpered. “We’re never making eye contact again, are we?”

“Doubt it.”

You eventually made it to the kitchen, fully clothed and about seventeen kinds of mortified. Sam was already at the table, sipping his coffee and staring very intently at his laptop.

You cleared your throat. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, still not looking up.

Dean just grinned as he poured himself some coffee. “Everyone alive? No trauma?”

Sam blinked slowly. “I’m gonna put a bell on your door.”

Dean snorted.

You just turned crimson again.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you found this funny! This happened to me years ago while my ex and I were living with a flatmate and it was mortifying. I thought it would be hilarious as a Dean and Sam fic tho 😂

[zlut4rina]

I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS ON BOTTOM GISELLE

This but she's also fucking around with her best friend :P and the bsf is also g!p

Parirings: Giselle x G!p!Femreader

Warnings: Drugs and Alcohol use, unprotected sex, slight oral mention, holy plot 💔, Uh yea 👅

___________________________________________

You and giselle met in uni. You both had mutual friends, and one day, they decided to all group up and hang out. You were quite the shy and reserved person, so speaking to a new group of people was like a death wish. Giselle approached you first, drink in hand, and a big smile on her face. She reeked of alcohol, and was that maybe a hint of weed? Who knows? Honestly, you could hardly remember what happened that night, especially after meeting her. You were too intoxicated to even comprehend what happened the next morning, still hungover. After that night, you both grew closer. You told each other any and everything. Your mutual friend would make silly remakes about how connecting you two was a bad idea.

And to be honest, it was. You guys went everywhere together, you did everything together, and you two were like the ideal friendship everyone wished that they had. Despite her chic and bad girl demeanor and style, she was a completely different person when it came to sex. You two told each other about your sex stories all the time. You didn't have much since you never really liked socializing. But giselle practically had bedtime stories for you every night. At some point, she stopped doing that. She stopped fucking around, it's been a while since you heard one of her outrageous sex stories. Anytime you'd ask her about it, she'd brush you off, saying, "It's just not my style anymore" or how she needs to focus on other things.

Her true reason being was because of you. She couldn't stop herself from having disgusting lewd thoughts about you, especially after she found out about you little 'secret'. The day you told her you had a dick flipped a switch in her brain. That was all she could think about that night. Even though she hooked up with some guy, she could only imagine how yours felt. You were so oblivious to this that it actually turned her on sometimes. The way she would purposely sit in your lap a certain way, just to fulfill a small part of her fantasies. The way she would grind on your lap just a little, masking it as her 'Trying to get comfortable'.

Your stupidity brought her to her breaking point. One night in your doorm, you two were played up cuddling, watching some drama on your laptop. A random surge of boldness ignited in her, her hand that was rested on your chest slowly made its way down under the covers cupping your bulge. You both were only in your underwear. You both established that it was fine to be dressed like that since you're so close.

And you know, one thing led to another. And here she is, back arching for you, face buried deep into the pillow soaked of her tears and the drool from her mouth. You never thought this day would come. Honestly, I mean, you dreamed about it sure, but for it to actually come true was insane. Take this opportunity to fuck her raw without a condom, only cause she asked so nicely. Your fingers digging into the flesh on her hips. Trying to keep as quiet as you could, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other. By the time you both were completely fucked out, you both looked like you survived some sort of war. Both of you bitten and bruised, the sheets drenched in mixed fluids. After that night fucking your best friend become such a normal thing, obviously you couldn't tell anyone about it though. But of course some of your friends got a little suspicious.

"You two always go home so early. It's like your dating or something."

You weren't necessarily dating, nor were you necessarily NOT dating. It was complicated, but in a good way. You didn't mind getting to fuck the pretties girl on campus whenever you wanted. Having her all to yourself was like a dream you never wanted to wake from. Giselle would wear skimpy, slutty outfits when going out just for you to ruin her in.

"So that's why you wore this, huh? Just for my attention?" You were balls deep inside her. A handful of her hair in your grasp, as you pounded her from behind. "You're so dirty, baby." You whispered into her ear, nipping at it. Giselle is a backshot warrior. Like omfg, the first couple of times you twocdid it, she would always want you to bend her over. You loved it too, the sight of her back angled so perfectly for you, ugh to die for. The way she whines into the pillow when you hit 'that spot' repeatedly. Her nails would be scattered all over your bed with how hard she was gripping the sheets. Her makeup stained your pillow once again.

Everyone thinks she's such a badass and takes the lead with everything she does, just not in all casses. The second she's with you behind closed doors, she's like putty. She's immediately on her knees, ready for her instructions on how to please you. Sucking you off with the prettiest hooded eyes. Her lipstick smudged on her lips as mascara ran down her face. She'd stick her tongue out and place it on the bottom on your tip as you shoot loads into her mouth, some of it hitting her nose and teeth. You weren't usually rough with her unless she'd as or she'd done something to rile that up in you. Spitting in her mouth and pulling her head back by her hair, demanding she swallow it. gulp

She absolutely loved it when you're rough with her, too. Making you upset at an outing, and the only way to calm you down is if she's bent over and taking your full length. Crying your name out as you handle her body roughly. Saying she deserves this for being bad and how she wanted this. "Don't tell me you can't handle it, princess." Meanwhile, she's literally struggling to even breathe against the soaked pillow. Her hair is a complete mess, sticking to her face from all the sweat. So, of course, you have to help her out. Taking a handle full of it and pulling her head back. While saying the dirtiest things to each other all night.

That's usually how most of your nights went. Bending her over or having her on her knees, you got whatever you wanted out of her. She's your best friend, that's what best friends do, right? They take care of each other's needs.

___________________________________________

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Bambi and Alexia

Christmas never used to be so busy, Alexia thinks to herself as she gets yet another paper cut trying to wrap presents.

It's a wonder that baby Jaume needed all this stuff but Alexia preserves as she wraps yet another stuffed football that everyone seems to be getting him.

You're easy to buy for though and the three model trains Alexia bought are already wrapped and under the tree as well as your new ballet pumps and the cute music box that plays some ballet melody that the woman at the shop said you would love.

"Mami?"

Your head pokes around the door frame, unbound hair swaying slightly with your movement.

Alexia smiles, ignoring the sting of her new paper cut as she extends her arms out for you.

You go into them willingly, settling on her lap.

"What is it, bambi? Is something wrong?"

She tries to rack her brain for everything that could have gone wrong. It's not been long since she picked you up from ballet and you went up to your room to find your train conductor's hat and build a whole new track for some of your older train models.

Alexia tries to think whether any of your shelves looked wobbly or if something could have fallen on you but you don't look injured and you don't seem to be crying either.

"No," You say and Alexia breathes an internal sigh of relief," Just forgot to give something to you."

Alexia hadn't noticed the little sheet of paper in your hands when you first came into her, too wrapped up in the idea that you had somehow gotten injured with something.

"But you can't read it!" You say quickly when Alexia goes to take it," Because the dance teacher said that only Santa's allowed to read it but we need to give it to our mummies so they can send it off to him."

"I won't read it," Alexia lies, pressing a soft kiss to your crown," And I'll send it straight off to Santa."

"Promise?"

"Straight off to Santa," Alexia repeats, adjusting your train conductor hat on your head," Now, why don't you head on upstairs again and I'll grab you when it's snack time?"

"Okay!"

You off up the stairs again and Alexia gently opens your letter to Santa once she hears your bedroom door click closed.

The words haunt Alexia for most of the night. Even as she lays in bed with Olga tucked under her arm and Jaume on the baby monitor on the bedside table.

Alexia slips out of bed, endlessly pacing the length of the house with the only light coming from her open laptop screen.

It's a complete whim that she books them, already knowing you're going to see a version of it over the Christmas period but Alexia just can't help herself.

"Mami?" You say weeks later as Alexia wraps a scarf around your neck," Where are we going?"

"I've got a surprise for you," Alexia says," Santa's spoken to me."

Instantly, your eyes go wide and you start chewing on the inside of the cheek.

"Am I on the naughty list?"

"Oh no," Alexia says quickly, drawing you into her arms," Not at all. You're actually on his nice list and, you know what?"

"What?"

"You're all the way at the top!" Alexia says," And kids all the way at the top get a Christmas gift early!"

"Oh," You say, cheeks going a little pink at the praise," And we're going out?"

"We are."

"And then Olga and Jaume are coming later?"

You glance behind you where Olga is feeding your little brother his dinner.

Alexia shakes her head. "Just us. Santa was very certain that had to be just us two."

"He was? So he did get my letter!"

"He did," Alexia agrees," So it's just going to be me and you tonight, bambi."

The words of your letter are still on Alexia's mind as she walks you into the theatre.

Dear Santa,

I'm sorry if I was a naughty girl this year but for Christmas, can you make sure my Mami doesn't forget me ever again?

Love y/n

"Mami?" You ask when Alexia's hands don't lift up from where they're covering your eyes.

"Yes?"

"Are we there yet?"

"Just one moment. Let me just...Yeah, just turn a little, bambi. That's it. Good girl."

You react just like Alexia had hoped you would - wide eyed in awe as you look around the reception area of the Ballet de Catalunya's performance of the Nutcracker.

You'd already seen a performance with your ballet class but that had been a semi-professional production from the adjoining ballet school for the older pupils.

This was a proper performance though and Alexia gently leads you over to buy some keepsakes for the evening before walking you up into the box seats she'd paid a stupid amount to get on short notice.

"Now," Alexia says as she sits down," I can't seem to remember the story of the Nutcracker. Can my favourite girl in the world explain it to me?"

[anqelous]

The Babysitter

𐙚PAIRING: Harry Castillo x f!Reader

𐙚SYNOPSIS: After loosing your previous job, you're on a hunt for a new opportunity and come across an ad, for a babysitting gig.

𐙚CONTENTS: Spoiler free, slight tension, Soaked shirt from rain

𐙚WC: 3.2k

𐙚NOTES: This is my first fic! I was originally going to make this wayy longer but I was unsure on where to take the plot. I really hope you enjoy this and let me know if you have any idea/feedback <3 Trust me I will bring forth new parts. REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

The evening sunlight had started to softly leak through the windows of your bedroom, painting and casting golden hues across the room. It casted rays across your face, causing you to squint in order to adjust to the looming brightness.

You've been sitting there in a chair, which was tucked under your desk. Your desk was an accurate representation of your mind—cluttered and disorganised with sheets of papers and pens laying across.

Your laptop sat there, the screen glowing at your face.

Your eyes scanned across the screen scrolling through what seemed to be an endless amount of adverts, for jobs—each one promising a new beginning. The clock on your wall ticked steadily, its rhythmic sound almost laughing at you, which only added to the growing impatience.

At this point you were willing to take on any job, no matter how tedious it could be. okay maybe not a job that would require you to travel far or move around a lot. Any job that could help you earn a decent salary was all that you needed. One that would allow you to pay the end of the month's rent whilst also giving you leftovers to use for recreational activities.

The rhythmic tapping of your finger, synchronised with the steady ticking of the clocks, suddenly came to a halt. You paused, eyes fixed on the screen as your gaze settled on a particular listing. The word Babysitter was emblazoned in bold at the top.

How hard could it be? you wondered, tilting your head slightly as you scrolled back up to read the description more carefully. The details were vague—no specifics about the hours, responsibilities, or even who you'd be working for. The salary was listed as to be decided, almost as an afterthought. Still, it piqued your interest. 

Honestly, who cared? It was within decent proximity to your place, and at this point, any job was better than none. The uncertainty didn’t bother you—what mattered was the chance to make enough to cover this month’s rent. You hesitated for a moment, weighing the risk against the small hope that this could be your break.

With a few quick clicks, you uploaded your CV and hit the send button, sending your application off into the digital abyss. You then proceeded to close all the tabs that had been cluttering your screen—job listings, search pages, and the open chat window where you’d been messaging potential contacts.

A sense of relief washed over you as the last tab vanished, leaving your desktop clean and uncluttered. You let out a small sigh of satisfaction, feeling a brief moment of accomplishment. Carefully, you closed the lid of your laptop, sealing away the chaos of the day and the faint spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new.

A few days later, you found yourself sprawled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with no clear idea of what to do next. The room was quiet except for the flickering images on the screen as you mindlessly watched a movie, your thoughts drifting aimlessly. 

Suddenly, your phone chimed softly, jolting you out of your daze. You glanced over at the screen, which had just lit up, its notification blinking insistently. Expecting it to be another rejection—another reminder of how little luck you’d had lately—you hesitated for a moment. 

With a reluctant flick of your eyes, you reached out and picked up the device, your thumb hovering over the screen as you considered whether to check it.

"Another rejection?" joked your roommate and closest friend, Hannah, from behind the kitchen counter. She was busy stirring something in a pot, but her eyes flicked over to your face as soon as she caught your reaction to the message. 

You turned your head slowly, leaning over the back of the couch to face her. 

"Hannah, you’re not going to believe it," you said, a mix of surprise and excitement in your voice. 

She raised an eyebrow, setting down her spoon. "What? Is it a rejection again?" 

You grinned, shaking your head. "That weird babysitting gig… it’s not a yes, exactly, but I’ve moved forward to the interview stage. It’s like… they’re interested enough to meet me." 

Hannah’s eyes widened in disbelief. "No way! That’s actually pretty huge, considering how many jobs you’ve been applying for." 

You searched up the address to see where the interview was taking place. You realised that it was taking place inside a highrise building.

The next day, Hannah was already buzzing around your apartment, determined to help you prepare for the interview. She insisted on helping you choose the perfect outfit—something that would make a good impression, especially for a job like this.

You, on the other hand, had no idea how to dress for an interview, let alone one for a babysitting gig in a skyscraper. "Hannah, I don’t even know what kind of outfit is appropriate for this," you admitted, nervously tugging at the collar of your jumper.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Please. This is a fancy, sky-high building—probably filled with white-collared, uptight types. You want to look professional but not stuffy. Think clean, simple, and confident."

Hannah stood in front of your closet, rummaging through the clothes with an air of confidence. "How about you try this on?" she said, holding up a crisp white button-up shirt and a simple black skirt. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as she waited for your response.

You sat at the edge of the bed, watching her with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Are you sure about this?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

"I don't know if I'm really the button-up shirt and skirt type." Hannah chuckled, tossing the clothes at you with a flourish.

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun. You need a change of pace, and I'm just trying to help." She grinned as you got and picked out a pair of sheer leggings to go along with the skirt.

You let out an almost comical groan.

But Hannah was insistent, pushing you towards the bathroom and closing the door behind her with a playful smile.

"I doubt this even fits," you muttered as you lifted the jumper over your head, slipping out of it. The static electricity built up, causing a tangle of hairs to stand up and fly into your face. You brushed at your hair with one hand, trying to tame the chaos, then reached for the white shirt and started to button it up, determined to look presentable for the interview.

"Shut up and get dressed!" she called out from the other side of the door, her laughter echoing through the bathroom. You slipped into the leggings, feeling a bit self-conscious about the sheer fabric. It was followed by the shirk.

You twisted the door handle gently before peering out into your room. "I'm not too sure about this," you said, hesitating slightly.

Hannah looked over at the door, seeing your face between the small opening of the door. "Well, let me see then!" she shouted, as she gathered the clothes scattered across the bed, the mess being made from all the rummaging that was needed in order to fulfil her quest in finding you the perfect outfit.

The truth is, Hannah has been your best friend since college. She’s supported you through every twist and turn—offering a steady shoulder to lean on during tough times and celebrating your successes, no matter how small. She’s always been there for you, unwavering and dependable, almost like an older sister you never had. 

Her presence is comforting, a constant reminder that you’re not alone in this. And as you stand there, hesitating at the door, you realise just how much her support means to you—especially on days like today.

You were now sitting in the lobby when you finally heard the clicking of heels approaching. The sound grew louder, steady and purposeful, signaling the arrival of the interviewer's assistant—likely the employer or someone representing them. She seemed to have more patience than you, which was evident just from her composed demeanor. 

"Miss—" she paused, glancing at her clipboard as she searched for your name. Before she could finish, you interrupted gently, reaffirming your name. 

She offered a tight-lipped smile, a flicker of politeness beneath her professional exterior. "Follow me. Mr. Castillo has been waiting." 

Mr. Castillo? Did she mean the Harry Castillo? 

Although you’d never seen his face, the name rang a bell. You’d heard it before—a name that carried weight, status, and a certain aura of power. A name that other businesses alike feel uneasy, even intimidated. The kind of name that commanded respect—and sometimes, a little fear.

You had seen articles online with his name stamped across headlines—stories celebrating his achievements. One headline in particular caught your eye: "Castillo Secures a Billion-Dollar Deal."

Stories of his success circulated widely, often highlighting how he had carried his father’s legacy and expanded it even further. The media painted him as a relentless force in the business world, a visionary driven by ambition and an unyielding desire to succeed.

His accomplishments left you stunned at times, but honestly, you weren’t overly intrigued. It was impressive, sure, but the details never truly captivated you. To you, he was just another powerful figure in a sea of successful entrepreneurs—famous for his achievements, yet distant and almost untouchable.

As you followed the woman through the corridor, your heels clicked softly on the pristine, porcelain floors, each step echoing lightly alongside hers. The corridor was immaculate—gleaming surfaces, spotless and polished to perfection.

It was almost a shame that the water from the bottom of your shoes would inevitably leave marks on the spotless floors, marring its flawless shine. You silently hoped it wouldn’t be noticeable, feeling a twinge of guilt at the thought of disrupting the pristine environment with your footsteps.

If it wasn’t obvious by now, you were drenched from the rain. The city had unleashed its heavy clouds as soon as you stepped out of your apartment. You had thought you could make it in time, but every attempt to dodge puddles and keep your hair dry had been futile.

By the time you reached the building, you were soaked through—your clothes clinging to you, cold and uncomfortable.

You had left your umbrella in the stand at the lobby, and prayed that this exclusive building had enough security and decency to stop someone from stealing it. As you entered the elevator, you noticed the odd stares from the other occupants. For a moment, you wondered why they were looking at you that way.

Then you looked down—and realised why.

The umbrella had done little to shield you from the rain. The water had painted your white shirt almost completely opaque, revealing the outline of your bra beneath. The fabric clung to your skin in damp patches, and the wetness made your entire outfit look almost translucent, leaving little to the imagination. A flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks as you hurriedly adjusted yourself, wishing you could disappear into the elevator's mirrored walls.

Wishing the elevator would collapse right then and there, you silently hoped it would swallow you whole into the earth.

Embarrassment flooded over you as you realised how drenched and exposed you looked. You were already late for the interview. Noticing the empty lobby, you sank into a nearby lounge area, trying to compose yourself and calm your nerves.

The cool fabric of the couch offered a brief moment of relief. Before you could settle, you were suddenly caught off guard by the sharp, rhythmic click of heels approaching.

The sound drew your attention, and you tensed, wondering who was coming—and whether they had noticed your soaked, translucent state.

Your train of thought was interrupted when she came to a stop in front of a set of grand doors. They were wide, with intricate designs etched into their polished surfaces, hinting at the opulence beyond.

You hesitated, your hand hovering near the handle, unsure if you were ready to step inside. For a moment, you wondered if you should wait or turn back. But then you realised— the assistant had left you standing there, and it would be rude to linger.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped through, entering into the space beyond.

That’s when you saw him—Harry Castillo himself.

He had heard you enter, but his head was buried in a stack of documents. From the look of things, he figured he could take a moment to review them since you were running a bit late.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, as if testing your patience with how long you took to walk up to the desk. You stood in front of his desk, looking down at him.

"Sit," he said softly, shutting the binder with a decisive snap before tucking it away into a drawer. You thought a please would have been appreciated, but you didn’t voice it. Instead, you took a steadying breath and settled into the chair across from him.

He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours across the desk. For a moment, an unspoken tension filled the space between you both, thick and palpable.

That’s when you recognised his face. 

And suddenly, he recognised you too. 

His expression scrunched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise, or perhaps recognition, passing across his features. 

At that moment you wanted to get up, turn on your heels and dash straight for the door.

He was the reason as to why you were here. The reason as to why you had lost your previous job. The reason as to why you were looking for a new way to fund your living.

You used to work at a high-end restaurant, serving as a waitress. The job wasn’t too tedious, the tips were generous, and the environment was elegant, filled with the riches of the city’s elite that would all dine and wine in the lavish setting.

Memorises to that evening came crashing down on you, almost like a nightmare. If truth be told, the mistakes of that evening still haunted your mind vividly. 

The shame and regret burned deep within, and you wondered if he remembered it too.

The afternoon had started out slow, as always but built up, becoming quite busy. Fridays were always the busiest for some odd reason.

The head waiter had assigned you to accommodate the man in a suit. Of course you didn't know who he was. He wasn't a regular diner. 

He was undeniably handsome, you had to admit. You noticed, he was wearing a finely tailored suit, with a crisp collar and polished cufflinks that were exposed as he rolled his suit sleeves up.

You offered him a polite smile and reached for the bottle of red wine to pour into his glass. Just as you tilted the bottle, someone from behind bumped into you unexpectedly. The force was enough to jostle your hand, causing the wine to splatter across his shirt. 

You froze as you watched the crimson stain spread, darkening the fabric and turning his shirt into an off-red hue. The splash seemed to spread like ink in water, and your stomach clenched in embarrassment.

You felt your face turning to match the shade of the spilled wine, burning with embarrassment. You wished you could evaporate into thin air and never be seen again.

You tried to salvage your position and hurried to help, grabbing a wipe to soak up as much of the spilled wine as you could from his shirt. Your hands trembled slightly as you tried to blot away the stain, but then reality hit—you had caused chaos.

Before you could do more, one of your colleagues pulled you back gently, her eyes wide with concern. Another hurried over, apologising frantically, mumbling about how sorry they were for the mess and the disruption.

The situation spiraled quickly. Your manager, who had been watching from a distance, suddenly appeared. 

His face was stern, trying to hold composure. "Do you know who that is?" he had demanded, his eyes narrowed as he gestured toward the man in the suit. 

But he didn’t tell you his name. Honestly, you didn’t care who he was—probably some stuck-up rich man, you thought bitterly. All you knew was that you’d managed to ruin an already stressful night.

What you didn’t see was the aftermath of your mishap. 

The paparazzi had captured every moment. The image of you bending over the table, desperately trying to wipe away the stain from that very expensive shirt. The angle of the photographs made it almost look as if you were giving him some kind of intimate attention, sparking a frenzy on social media and in the tabloids. 

The next morning, headlines blared across local newspapers: "Waitress Seen Giving Special Treatment to Entrepreneur Castillo".

You hadn’t seen the newspapers yourself, but Harry and his team had. They were the ones trying to do damage control, scrambling to contain the story before it spiraled further out of control. 

This exposure could have definitely ruined his reputation—someone like Harry Castillo couldn’t afford to have his name tangled in scandalous rumors, especially not over a moment of your clumsiness.

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

His eyes flicked downward, betraying him as they lingered on your semi-transparent shirt, which was caused by the heavy rainfall that you hadn't anticipated. He didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he was almost gawking, his expression a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he began, voice measured but with an underlying edge, whilst his eyes averted the gaze.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling voice. Carefully, you recounted your experience working in the restaurant, emphasising your dedication, adaptability, and eagerness to learn. You highlighted your commitment to professionalism and responsibility—hoping your words would be enough to overshadow the embarrassing mishap from before. 

He listened quietly, nodding occasionally, eyes flickering with interest or perhaps evaluation. When you finished, he leaned back slightly, eyes still studying you.

You wondered as to why he still had you sitting in his office, when you knew you wouldn't get this position after everything that happened.

“Why did you leave your previous job?” he asked smoothly, a faint smirk growing across his face. He was definitely testing your patience and almost found it amusing.

Is this his way of flirting or what? you thought stupidly.

His look was sharp, almost teasing, and between the two of you, it was clear he was pushing at your boundaries, testing how you handled the challenge.

"Mr. Castillo, if I may," you began, "between the two of us, we both know I didn’t quit my previous job"

He chuckled at your bold response, amused by your abruptness. 

"Alright then, that will be all," he said, standing up smoothly. "Do you have any questions?" he asked as he moved toward the door. 

"No," you answered his question.

Perhaps you should have asked something—about the job expectations, the household routines, or what he valued most in a babysitter—to reaffirm your interest. Or maybe your past history had already given him enough reason to doubt you. 

"I'll have someone get in touch with you soon," he said with a slight gulp, opening the door. His hand subtly shadowed your lower back, unintentionally guiding you out of the room as he stepped aside.

TO BE CONTINUED

MASTERLIST

CREDITS:

pictures used in the banner: found on pinterest

line borders by: hyuneskkami

[lyssakinzzz]

Fluffy Remmick taking care of you during a paticularly rough shark week, you know like running you hot baths, warming up your pjs for you to wear after you bathe or shower, maybe gifting you a plushie, a bat squishmallow of sorts to cheer you up? Maybe getting ya chocolate🥹🩷🦇🙏🥺

I'm going through a shark week and I need some comfort!🥺

YESSS MY SHARK WEEKS IN 14 DAYS THIS SHIT IS NEEDED

Housewife remmick bc...yes. a lil inspiration from the shade between us when drunk remmick got Estelle eggs from across town @astoldbyaja.

Warnings: nothing, remmicks hands on you tummy to relieve cramps. (I prefer cold on it then hot..sorry.) Vampy reader (bc I'm writing this for my partner in smut @snuggle-fangs DUHHH) a bit of Btvs laws rn (if a vampire alr let in it can forever enter unless you cast a spell revoking their rights to enter)

Remmick was ecstatic to find out you were on your period. The second he smelt your monthly, he was already at the door peering in, like an axe murderer from a horror movie. Just waiting for you to allow him a taste, his crimson eyes wide, like the ones of a begging child.

However, when he heard you whining, and thrash around under the covers, as he heard Christopher Lee's deep voice illuminating the messy, but cozy bedroom. He frowned, and slowly crept into the room.

"Awe, im s'sorry, love?" He tutted as he sat at the edge of the bed, stroking your soft legs from bellow the cover, he kissed your décolleté area, affectionately and gently, as he sniffed the scent of perfume on your pressure point. You whined cuddling into him as he pressed his icy hands on your warm tummy, giving you a little massage while slowly kissing your shoulder and shushing you.

His frozen body, was extremely refreshing to you, especially in the heat of the summer season. He watched the movie with you as he moved counter clock wise on your tummy, you calmed down a bit, and exhaled. After the movie finished he got up, and went to the master bathroom, nonchalantly, as you flicked through to find something else to watch, you body ached without your glacial lover holding you, you sighed as you turned up the volume, masking the loud sound of the water gushing into the tub.

Around 10 or so minutes later, he steps out and leads you to the bathroom. You look down to see the tub filled with bubbles and roses and it reeked of your favourite body products. You smiled as you kissed him on the cheek and peeled off your clothes, as soon as you sunk into the bath he kissed your forehead.

"Now, I'm bout to run a few errands. Be back in a jiffy." He whispered lowly as he left the bathroom, you sunk into the bath and inhaled the deep scent. You relaxed as you looked at the little set up, Remmick made you. The wooden board laid flat as it supported a laptop, snacks, and tea.

You smiled, you loved your little housewife of a husband, Remmick.

After you were satisfied you drained the water to find fresh, silk pajamas nice and toasty for you, a pad already in your underwear waiting for you to just put it on. Your man made sure you were playing life on easy mode, since you've married him. You smiled as you put on your pajamas and smelt the freshly washed blankets and sheets, you let out a little giggle as you saw an old princess blanket underneath, to prevent the mattress from messing up.

Now, what does Remmick know about the princess blankets.

You shook your head before cuddling underneath the sheets as you waited for Remmick, it was rainy and you were a little worried. You bit your lip, as you conjured up the worst possible scenarios to happen. You heard the sound of keys jingling and exhaled. He was back. You heard him cough a bit, and bags crinkle.

He ran to the bedroom, looking like he just went through a typhoon, you cocked your head as you inhaled sharply looking at him, he was in bad shape. He set the bags down, and handed you a bar of chocolate.

They didn't have that brand at your local grocery store. At all.

"Baby?"

"Hm?"

"Where'd you get this?" You questioned examining the bar of sweetened cacao.

"Oh, I drove downtown." He said changing out of his wet clothes, shivering slightly, your eyes widened as you played with your new bat squishmello.

"Pardon?" You said in disbelief, he just looked at you like it was nothing.

You smiled as he got closer to the bed, you pulled him in by his shirt and kissed him. He smiled kissing back, crawling on top of you a bit. You giggled, as he jokingly took little bites of you. Like a parent playing with their child. You smiled kissing his soft lips.

"You know, it pains me how much pain you feel durin' your monthly sweetheart." He frowns, massaging your belly once more. "You know, I have a deal to cut with you, I can make it dissappear for 9 months, maybe longer I'd your willin' but with a few gaps. You could be having the menstrual cycle of a medieval lady, honestly. No strings attached." He said nibbling on your shoulder. You giggled and pushed him away.

"It's fine...not everyone accepts good deals." He whispered, before sitting up.

[justmeinadaze]

Curiosity: Part 2 (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

Warnings: Younger (Early 20s) Daddy (kinda camboy) Eddie & Older (early 30s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, SO MUCH dirty talk <3, daddy kink (cause I'm me), praise, SPANKING <3, light slapping, male masturbation, of course aftercare

FLUFF, Eddie always talking about how beautiful she is <3

ANGST, Eddie still doesn't know Y/N is the girl he's talking to online, mentions of a bad past relationship (she talks about how an ex made her feel like there was something wrong with her size; brief, "sweetie you're too big..."), Y/N gets a bit sassy and Eddie doesn't know how to handle it cause they haven't had the talk about their relationship (yells at her). I think that's it. I know those are the biggies.

More than anything this is him showing her more about the Daddy life and helping her realize she's beautiful inside and out.

Word Count: 7007

Chapter 1/ Donate to Me <3

“Hey, Y/N. I need my laptop back to finish this—Oh shit! I’m so sorry.”, your roommate shouted as she immediately backed out of your bedroom and shut the door. “In my defense, it’s not normal for you to have a boy over!”

“Well, that’s good to know.”, Eddie murmurs making you laugh as cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Give me a minute, Kelsey!”, you shout as you start to get out of bed. “I’ll be right back. Um, feel free to use my bathroom if you need to.”

“Is it ok if I smoke?”, he asks as he gestures towards the double doors in your bedroom that lead to the balcony. 

“Oh, absolutely. Just, um, make yourself at home.”

Raising his eyebrows in amusement, he grabs your wrist and playfully tugs you down so his lips can kiss yours. 

“You’re really adorable.”

Smirking, you caress his cheek as he bites his bottom lip and pokes your nose.

As soon as you exit your room and hand her her laptop, your roommate begins her interrogation. 

“Who the fuck is that? He’s so cute! Tell me everything!”

“Can we do this later? I’m so exhausted.”

“I’ll bet you are.”, Kelsey laughs as you narrow your eyes towards her playfully. “Ok, fine, but YOU are washing those sheets, ma’am.”

“Noted.”

After pouring a cup of coffee for each of you, you reenter your bedroom to find Eddie still outside almost finished with his cigarette. 

“Hey, I brought you some caffeine if you want some.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Did you get the third degree?”

“Kind of but I was able to get a reprieve if I promised to tell her more later.”

The metalhead smirks as he nods, tossing his smoke over the banister before following you back inside and wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“I had a good time with you last night.”, he murmurs as you lean back into his chest and crane your neck to kiss his lips. “Um, before we continue…this…there’s something I have to tell you.”

Eddie places you on the edge of the bed and grabs one of your chairs in your room to place it in front of you. 

“Ok, so, uh, remember when I told you I had a second job?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “It’s not actually a job-job but more a website…I, um, I have an OnlyFans…where I take off my clothes and…jerk off…for money. Sometimes, very rarely, I’m intimate with one of my friends who’s been doing this kind of thing for years but…”

His expressive, chocolate eyes search your face, trying to get a read on any emotion you might be feeling to his news. 

“Alright, not going to lie, I half expected you to call me a whore and be disgusted so the fact that you’re incredibly quiet makes me nervous.”, he shakily laughs as he waits for you to speak. 

“Do you like it?”

Eddie blinks in surprise as he leans back in his seat. 

“Um, I mean, I don’t hate it but I can understand why you might.”

“Me personally or other women?” The metalhead breathily exhales as he shakes his head in disbelief. “I don’t think you’re a whore and it…doesn’t bother me. I…Eddie, I have to tell you—”

His lips cut you off as he tenderly kisses them, pushing your body back against the bed and placing himself on top of you. 

“You’re so cool.”, he murmurs making you giggle as his smile grows. “Did, uh, did you have any questions or…?”

“Can I see it? Your set up?”

***

“Normally, a lot of people just like use their phones or something but I guess my gamer roots needed a bit more.”, Eddie jokes as you watch him log into his computer from the chair he placed beside him. 

“I didn’t know you game.”

“Oh, um, I’m not very good at it but my friends play so we’ll have like guy nights and just run around shooting each other in the virtual world.”

While he continued to talk your eyes couldn’t help but wonder down his very kissable throat to his broad shoulders and along his forearm to his hand that quickly clicked the mouse it was holding. 

“Alright, so this is my camera obviously. On this screen here I put my equipment controls including the reflection of me on the camera so I can make sure I’m in frame. On the other, I have the site up where I can see their messages to me.”

“Their?”

“My…fans…”

“Are they rude to you or anything?”

“Not all of them.”, he smirks as he glances your way. “I actually made a friend the other day but I don’t know her name. We’re just friends though I swear.”, Eddie quickly confirms. 

“What do you say to people when they watch you?”

“I have an initial stream where I just let people get to know me but after an hour I go into a private stream they paid for. I…fuck this is so weird explaining.”, he laughs nervously. “I say stuff like about my cock while I touch myself. Sometimes they ask about my friend I told you about…the one I film with.”

“What’s her name?”

“Steve.”

As he says his friend’s name, his worried eyes lock with your own thinking that this may finally be the one step that’s a step too far. 

“Can you give me a demonstration?”

“How so?”

“Like…if you were on camera and I had paid to see you…what would you do?”

An anxious laugh leaves his lips as he turns his chair to face you. 

“I’m not exactly prepared.”, he teases as he gestures towards his crotch area. 

“So, you’re telling me you’re always hard when you start to stream?”, you sass making him smile as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. 

“No, I guess not.” 

His eyes remain on you as he stands up and shuffles out of his jeans, tossing them haphazardly to the floor before reaching into his boxers to pull his dick out. 

“Do you do the Daddy thing with them?” Languidly, he strokes himself as he leans back and answers you with a soft but firm mhmm. “When did you realize that’s something you enjoyed?”

“I always knew. What about you?”

“Oh, um, I’ve never done that…this…before.”, you shyly respond, smiling a bit when you notice his wrist flick and his cock twitch slightly at your confession. 

“I never would have guessed that with h-how easily you call me that.”

“Things seem to be easy with you.”

At your words, you nervously giggle as you hide behind your hands.

His chair creaks slightly as he leans over and a long line of spit leaves his mouth to land on the mushroom head of his length before he strokes it along his shaft a bit faster than he had been.

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea how much shit like that turns me on. The shy little laugh with the innocent eyes. I like kn-knowing I’m the first man to make you feel that way. I wish I was your first everything but…”, Eddie chuckles. 

“It felt like it with that monster between your legs.”, you laugh, interrupted when his free hand grabs the arm of your chair and yanks you closer to him. 

“Did you like the way it felt…Daddy’s cock stretching you open?”

Eddie whispering dirty words was one thing but having them strain from his beautiful lips as he stared into your irises was another. Biting your lip, you tried to duck away again but his palm hastily cupped your cheek forcing you to remain still. 

“Answer me, pretty girl.”

“Yes, I liked it.”

“Liked what…say it.”

The metalhead smirked as you tried to duck away nervously again but his hand kept you in place. 

“I l-like the way your cock felt stretching m-me open…”

“Good girl, always such a good girl for Daddy. Can you pull down those sweats and open your legs for me so I can have another look at those cute panties you put on?”

You do as he asks and the man heavily sighs as his eyes trace along your legs to the cotton blocking your core. 

“They’re a little wet. Do you like watching Daddy touch himself?”

“Y-Yes, I like watching you… I think you’re incredibly handsome…especially like this…”

“You keep calling me handsome, babe, and I might grow an ego.”, Eddie chuckles feeling your energy lighten. “I think you’re incredibly beautiful. I l-like looking at your legs especially your thighs.”

“My fat thighs.”, you tease but your eyes momentarily shift to the void before finding his once more to notice they’ve darkened slightly. 

“Did you mean that negatively…like your ‘fat’ thighs are a problem?”

“I-I-I mean…”

When you absently shrug as if it’s common knowledge, the boy growls under his breath as you watch his jaw tighten and his nose scrunch in what seems like anger.

“What?”, you murmur, repeating yourself when his only response is to pump his fist a bit faster and harder. 

“Your weight doesn’t affect how fucking gorgeous you are.”

“I’m sorry.”, you whine. “I d-didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Mmph—you didn’t upset me, Y/N. The idea of you or anyone else thinking about you that way…upsets me.”

Surging forward, you kiss his lips, reveling in the taste of nicotine that lingers, thankful that he allows it even though you feel him not fully reciprocating. 

“Jesus Christ.”, Eddie grumbles and you open your eyes just in time to see his spend hit thigh.

Silently, he reaches for his tissues to clean himself while his face remains furrowed.

“I’ve never liked the way you talk about yourself.”, he mumbles, taking the Kleenex and throwing them away. 

“I’m just…I was just joking…”

“At your own expense?”

“Is this really what you want to talk about after what we just did?”

Eddie huffs as he grabs his pack of cigarettes and puts one between his teeth before lighting the end. 

“YOU’RE the one who brought it up in the middle of what we just did. I’m just tired of it. If it’s not your weight, it’s your age and you make it sound like you’re undesirable or something. Did someone make you feel that way?”

Your head swiftly turns to glare into the void. Eddie’s seen that look before on many people he’s annoyed with his loudmouth in the past. 

He hit a nerve. 

“Look, I’ve been single for a while so I’ve mastered the art of self-deprecating jokes. I’m sorry I fucking hurt your feelings or whatever with a comment about ME.”

Angerly, you get to your feet and reach for your pants but he beats you to it, effortlessly tugging them from your grasp. 

“I think it’s time we talk about some things.”

“I don’t want to. Now give me my pants, little boy, and take me home!”

At your words a fire let within him that reflected through his eyes startling you slightly even though you kept your glare firm. 

“Little boy, huh?”, he growls roughly before taking an inhale of his cigarette and blowing smoke to the side. You stumbled backwards slightly as he released his hold on your sweats and sat back down. “You can wait outside and I’ll pay for the fucking uber. Get out of my house.”

“Eddie, I—”

“No. Get your shit and fucking leave. I don’t think you’re ready to see how I handle bratty behavior.”

“Y-You won’t even take me home?”

“I can make sure you get there from the app. Now, this is the last time I’m going to say it…Get…out.” You heard it in his tone; the anger mixed with the pain. You calling him that also struck a nerve but your wall went up and you couldn’t help yourself. You hated seeing him this way wishing you could take back your words. 

“Eddie, I’m…I’m really sorry—”

“NOW!”

You jumped as his deep shout rung in your ears before quickly scurrying out the door. 

##################

Eddie called in the next day and every time you tried to text or call his phone, he didn’t answer. 

You were worried. 

At least that’s what you told yourself to justify taking your roommates laptop and signing in to the OnlyFans account to schedule a session with him that evening.

When his face illuminated the screen, he seemed to be hidden under a haze of smoke. 

“Millennial, babe, you don’t have to keep paying for sessions. I can give you my phone number so we can talk.”, he chuckles as you watch him bring a bong to his lips and inhale. “I hope it’s alright I’m a little buzzed.”

“Are you ok? You seem sad.”

When his glassy eyes and slurred smile find the camera, you would give anything to hug him and hold him in your arms. 

“I am a little. That girl I told you about came over yesterday after a fucking perfect night together…and I showed her my set up…She was surprising cool with it, by the way.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah…we, um, she called me handsome and I told her she was beautiful; told her how much I love her gorgeous legs and thighs. I swear, Mill, I could fucking live between those thighs… I’ve been watching them move when she walks since we started working together and…fuck me… Now that I’ve experienced them wrapped around me…I’m obsessed.”

“But…”

Eddie’s chocolate irises shifted to the floor as his smirk faltered for a few seconds. 

“She always makes little jabs at her weight or her age and it fucking kills me. Like how can she not see how goddamn beautiful she is and those things aren’t mutually exclusive. Her having some extra meat on her bones or being older has nothing to do with her physical traits. And that’s not even what matters to me…it’s just an added bonus that she’s hot.”

“Did you tell her all this?”

Eddie shakes his head as he reclines in his seat. 

“Daddy got in the way.”

“Ok, you’re going to need to explain that. Lol.”

 “Look, I assumed by the way she called me Daddy she had been in a dynamic like that before but she told me last night it was new for her.”

“Ok, I’m lost.”

The metalhead rolls his eyes playfully as he sticks his tongue out at you making you smile. 

“She got sassy and called me ‘little boy’. As soon as I heard it, I wanted to punish her right then and there.”

“Punish?”

“Yeah, I have my own methods that usually has my partner turning into liquid goo but…”, he laughs. “We haven’t had that talk yet. We haven’t had any conversation about our relationship. I don’t know what’s too far or no goes. I apparently said SOMETHING to upset her but I don’t know what because her wall went up. The whole thing just ignited that side of me and since I don’t know how comfortable she is with all that…I had to ask her to leave. I knew…if she kept pushing… I might not be able to stop myself from throwing her over my knee and spanking that perfect ass.”

“Eddie lol”

“I’m serious, honey. Fuck, just the thought is making me hard.”

“Why don’t you show her?”

“My hard dick? I think that ship has sailed.”

“No! Lol. Show her what a punishment would look like. Give her a demonstration. If she’s open to calling you Daddy and trying all this, then show her everything THIS is.”

“Be Daddy and guide her.”

He reads your words over and over, his eyes flicking towards the camera as his eyebrows dip in what looks like confusion. 

“Give her a demonstration, huh?”

“Shit.”

You forgot that was the wording you used with him when he told you about his OnlyFans. 

“You know, Millennial. You’re so smart. See…this is why we’re friends.”, he laughs, seeming not to notice the identical wording. “Give me your number! I feel bad that you pay just to talk when we can do that for free.”

“I don’t mind, sweetheart. You deserve all the good things.”

***

“No, sir, I’m not…I’m just trying to explain our policy. If I could change it…Please, sir, please…please don’t scream at me.”, you sigh as you listen to the customer on the other end of the call. “Sir, I understand your frustration but…”

While you sat there strongly considering ‘accidently’ hanging up on this man yelling at you, your headset was abruptly lifted from your head and you swiveled your chair to see Eddie throw himself down in his, scooting closer to your side. 

“Hello, sir, this is Edward, the manager at this facility. How can I help you out today?”, he lied.

Your slightly surprised expression watched him earnestly as he listened to the man speak. 

“I see…Well as the representative explained, that’s not something we can compensate for…because of our policy…Sir, listen to me carefully…I said listen…You were already disrespectful to the kind person who tried to help you so you’re already on thin ice with me. If you raise your voice to me one more time, I’m going to disconnect the call.”

The echo in the speakers reverberated loudly as the customer started to scream again and the boy didn’t even hesitate as he leaned over your body to disconnect. 

“You could get in trouble for that.”

“Hm, I could but knowing this shit company I probably won’t.”, he grins as he slides back to his side of the cubicle. “Plus, no one talks like that to my work wife.”

“Eddie? I’m sorry.”

The metalhead leans back in his seat as he his soft eyes scan you over. 

“After work tonight, I’m making you dinner. Meet me at my place around 8.”

 It wasn’t a request and you had absolutely no qualms with that. When you got off, you hastily went home to change, deciding on a black dress that knotted around your waist at the side of your hips accentuating your curves a bit more and cutting off mid-thigh showing off a feature of yourself you now knew he enjoyed. 

Your black heels clacked against the path up to his front door and when Eddie opened it, you couldn’t help but feel overdressed. He was still wearing his black jeans and boots he wore to work that day but had changed into a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“Wow…you look—”

“Wait, let me guess. Handsome?”, he teases as he invites you in and shuts the door behind you. “Thank you, sweetheart. You look absolutely breath taking. Please…have a seat.” After gesturing towards his table, he pulls out your chair and you grin politely as you sit down.

Your eyes continued to watch him as the metalhead pulled up his hair and moved about the kitchen, serving finished food on a plate and placing it in front of you before filling up a glass with wine to set beside it. 

You waited patiently until he completed his tasks and sat down across from you to share the meal he made. 

“Oh my god, Eddie…This is amazing!”

“Thank you. My mom showed me how to make it when I was kid.”

The two of you casually talked but you could feel the tension in the atmosphere. You weren’t sure what it was about this man but you desperately wanted to fall to your knees in front of him and beg for forgiveness for hurting him. You wanted to curl up in his lap and kiss his face till that gorgeous smile and dorky sense of humor returned. 

You just wanted Eddie. 

“What’s going on over there?”, he asked as his studious eyes watched you slightly fold into yourself. 

“I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“No one’s ever made me dinner before.”, you answer, your voice slightly cracking as you lightly giggled. 

Rising to his feet, Eddie came to your side of the table and turned your body to face his as he kneeled in front of you, taking your palms in his rather large hand. 

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean to hurt you or insult you. I just…you were right. I’ve had people…relationships in my past talk about me negatively and I just—” His thumb gliding along your lips silenced you as your cheek turned into the palm he had rested against your face. “I’ve been single for a long time by choice. I’ve been so scared of getting hurt again… This whole thing with you is COMPLETELY new for me. I like you so much but there’s so many factors…my age, my weight, our work relationship… I’m scared.”

Slowly, the man pushes up to softly kiss your forehead, lingering there for a few moments and you take the opportunity to inhale his cologne while feeling the warmth that radiated from his chest.

“Come on, pretty girl.”, he whispers as he stands to his full height and takes your hand, leading down the hallway to his bedroom where he places you on the edge of his bed. 

Grabbing his desk chair, Eddie sets it directly across from you and moves till his knees lightly graze yours. 

“From this point forward tonight, you will refer to me as Daddy and you will only speak when you are spoken to. Do you understand me?”

His voice was still low but filled with a sexy husk that had your thighs rubbing together. 

“Yes, Daddy.”, you reply breathily. 

“Yes Daddy what?”

“Yes, Daddy, I understand.”

“Good.”, he nods, flashing you a gentle smile as he tilts towards you to lean on his elbows. “Now, occasionally throughout our time, I may ask you what color you are feeling. Green means good, yellow means slow down, and Red is stop.”

“Like a stop light.”

Eddie smirks as he nods. 

“Yes, honey, just like a stop light. Now…did I ask you something for you to respond?” 

Blinking, your head promptly hangs as you fiddle with your fingers. 

“No, Daddy.”

“Alright, thank you for being honest and not giving me an excuse. I’ll let that slide for right now. It won’t happen again.” Craning his neck, his lips find yours and when he pulls away you bite your bottom lip to contain your giddy smile. “Red is our safe word. If at any point, you or even Daddy says that word that means we immediately stop playing right there. If I do something that makes you uncomfortable or I’m hurting you, just say that word and we stop. No questions asked. Well…besides me making sure you’re alright and taking care of you.

What do you say if Daddy is making you uncomfortable?”

“Red.”

“Atta girl.”, he praises. “When it comes to me, there isn’t much that makes me uncomfortable but since this is all new for you, sweetheart, what are some hard no goes for you?”

“I…I’m not sure. There are things I haven’t tried in a while because of the men in my past…Daddy.” You hurry your last word when you realize you almost forgot it and thankfully he seemed to let it go. 

You were trying. 

“Can you elaborate on that for me a bit, baby?”

Your eyes squeezed shut as your ex’s voice echoed through your mind.

“God, Y/N, what are you doing?! You can’t be on top. Jesus, what were you thinking?”

“Um, no, sweetie, trust me. You can barely sit on my lap without crushing me. You think I can handle you on my face?”

“Pfft, toys and handcuffs? Baby…come on now. Bracelets I buy rarely fit around your wrists.”

A palm lightly tapping your cheek brought you back to reality as your eyes snapped open to meet Eddie’s.

“What color, Y/N?”

“Green.”, you whisper. “Green, Daddy.”

“I’m going to ask you something a bit personal and I’ll allow for this to go unanswered. Y/N, did your ex make you feel insecure about your body?”

It takes you a couple of minutes before you finally nod. 

“Yes, Daddy, and some friends I used to have.”

“Are they here in Hawkins?” You shake your head. “Good because I would fucking tear them apart.”, he growled until his eyes met yours again and softened. “How about when we play we take it one thing at a time, ok?”

“O-Ok, Daddy.”

“Good, good girl. Now, I’m into things like spanking, slapping, stuff like that. How does that make you feel?”

“I’m willing to try, Daddy. I, um, I feel like I wouldn’t like…like being hit with things like a belt or…”

“Ok, none of that. That’s more harder dominate and I’m a soft dominate. I don’t get pleasure from doing that kind of stuff. No disrespect to people that do, consensually of course.”, Eddie chuckles making you smile. 

“What do you get pleasure from?”

The man smirks as his chocolate irises scan along your frame. 

“You…and submission…”, he purrs. “Speaking of, did you just speak without being spoken to? Mhmm.”, he hums when you start to hang your head again and he catches it between his fingers. “That’s being added to the tally. I am the kind of Daddy that punishes a bad girl and you were a bad girl the last time you were here.”

Your mouth fell open as he slides backward away from you, quirking his eyebrow as if daring you to speak again which you decline. 

“One thing that really bothers Daddy is disrespect. You disrespected me when you called me ‘little boy’. Is that how you perceive me, honey?”

“No, Daddy, I swear!”

“Then why did you say it?”

“I…I don’t know. I…”

“Did little girl have a big emotion she didn’t know how to handle so she just said the first mean thing that came to her mind?”

“Y-Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m so sorry. I—”

His palm across your face gave you pause as you grab your cheek and try to catch your breath. It wasn’t a hard slap but it absolutely got your attention. 

“Color, baby?”

“Green, Daddy.”, you practically pant causing him to adjust the bulge in his jeans at the sound. 

“I didn’t ask you if you were sorry. You answer the question Daddy gives you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to spank you, Y/N. 5 for the disrespect, 5 for you speaking when you weren’t supposed to, and 5 for you disrespecting yourself.” 

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his statement as he nods and lightly tugs on your palms signaling for you to stand. 

“Take off your dress for me, baby.”

Doing as he instructs; you glide your outfit off your shoulders and down your legs allowing it to pool below your feet. On impulse, you start to raise your arms to cover your body but he promptly grabs your wrists and forces them to your sides. 

“Did I tell you to do that?”

“No, Daddy.”

Eddie’s intense, dark eyes drink you in from head to toe and once again, he shifts himself around in his pants. 

“Goddamn, baby. We’ll have to get more matching sets for you because that black lace is fucking driving me crazy. Fuck. Lay down on your stomach with your head towards me on the bed.”

As you do what he says, the metalhead stands, unbuttoning his shirt before casually tossing it to the side and climbing on to his mattress behind you. 

“Since this is the first punishment, I’m going to take it easy and relax some of my normal rules but I do want you to count after each one. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Abruptly, he grabs your arms that had been resting under your head and holds them at the wrist behind your back. 

“Louder, Y/N! I need to be able to hear you.”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“Good. Now keep your arms right fucking here.”, Eddie grumbles as you feel the bed jostle slightly. As his palms softly run along your thighs, you can’t help but moan. “I told you, baby, these thighs are fucking perfect.”

When his hand connected with your behind your entire body came to life as a squeak escaped your lips. 

“Color, honey?”

“Green, Daddy.”

“What did I say to do after I spank you?”

“C-Count. One, Daddy.”

“You seemed confused when I mentioned disrespecting yourself. Let me make it clearer.”, he declares as he hits you again and you count it off. “You always make these comments about yourself; that because you have some curves that means you’re not beautiful.”

At the word “curves”, Eddie’s palm roughly grabs the meat of your ass before he spanks you again. 

“That because you’ve lived a bit longer than someone then that means you’re not worthy of having fun or being with someone who would fucking worship you.”

*SPANK*

“That because a group of ignorant fuckers made you feel less than, then it must be true. No, baby. You. Are. Beautiful. Say it.”

“I’m beautiful.”

*SPANK*

“Louder like you fucking mean it!”

“Ahhh I’m beautiful, Daddy! I’m beautiful.”

You feel the atmosphere shift as his chest presses to your back and his lips caress the shell of your ear. 

“Inside and out, Y/N.”, he murmurs, delicately kissing your cheek before tilting back. “Now, on to you disrespecting me.”

*SPANK*

“Six, Daddy.”

“Do you think I deserved that? You speaking to me that way?”

“No, sir.”

Eddie carefully pulls down your underwear and throws them towards his closet. 

“Those are mine now. Fuck, baby girl, you’re so wet. Do you like Daddy spanking you?” You can’t help but pout at his mocking tone and in return he spanks your behind once more. “Don’t pout, little girl. You did this to yourself.”

Taking a hold of your thighs, he spread your legs open a bit more and you mewled when you felt his spit hit your pussy lips. His thumb collected the remnants and your mouth fell open as he pressed it against your clit. 

*SPANK*

“E-Eight, Daddy, fuck.”

“What are you going to do next time you feel something like that?”

“Talk to—mmph—you.”

*SPANK*

“You’ll be open with Daddy instead of calling him names like a little brat?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

*SPANK*

“Because you know Daddy’s here to take care of you and would never do anything to hurt you or make you feel unsafe.”

“Yeeesssss!”

Eddie’s fingers grasp the back of your neck as he holds you down and applies the perfect amount of pressure to your clit with his thumb that has your eyes rolling as you come undone. 

While your body continued to spasm from pleasure, he gently turned you on to your side till your front half was facing him. 

“You’re doing so well, baby, taking your punishment like a good girl. We’re almost done. What color are we at, sweetheart?”, he softly cooed as he pets your hair. 

“Green, Daddy.”

“Good. You wouldn’t lie to Daddy right?”

“No.”, you giggle as you keen into the mattress causing a knowing smile to flicker along his lips. 

You’re exactly where he wants you to be; you’ve dropped into the right headspace and thankfully, you seem comfortable. 

Pushing back onto his knees, Eddie fumbles with his belt buckle and your wide, glassy eyes find his as he frees his cock from its confinement. 

“Open your mouth, pretty girl.” Without question, you do what he asks and your eyes flutter closed as he guides himself inside. “You don’t have to count anymore but I want you to keep still and let Daddy use you, ok?”

When you nod, he utilizes one palm to grip your hair as his other spanks your behind. You moan around him and his chest vibrates at the feeling. 

“Shit…atta girl. That’s my girl.” His hand comes down once more while he steadily thrusts his hips. “Tap my thigh if it’s too much, baby, since your mouth is full. Fuck, I wish you could see how gorgeous you are right now.”

*SPANK*

“That’s it. Tongue flat…breathe through y-your nose…”

When his hand comes down this time, the one he has threaded through your hair clings down tighter as he remains still feeling you gag around him. 

“You can take it, baby, fuck! A couple more seconds!”

When he finally pulls back, Eddie spanks you one final time and fully lets you go to allow his face to be level with your own. 

“You did so good, baby girl. What color are you at?”

You cough as he continues to caress your face but instead of answering, you startle him when you dive into his embrace, pushing him back against his pillows as you cry. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Daddy. I promise…I’ll try to be more open with you…and talk to you when I’m…feeling something. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I really appreciate that. Can you answer my question for me so I know you’re alright?”

“I’m ok. Green, Daddy, Green.” Eddie smiles as he tilts back to kiss your sweaty forehead. “The zipper of your pants is kind of pinching me though.”, you jest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he laughs and adjusts you both till he’s on top of you after pulling off his jeans the rest of the way. 

“Sorry, pretty girl. Here, let’s take this off.”

As he reaches blindly behind your back to unhook your bra, you tenderly trail soft kisses along his shoulder to the crook of his neck. After the garment falls to the floor beside the bed, the metalhead’s lips latch on to your nipple and on impulse your legs wrap around him as your fingers tangle in his hair trying to pull him closer. 

“Fuck, everything on you tastes so sweet.”, Eddie whispers against your skin as his tongue licks between the valley of your chest to your neck. 

While he sucks that sweet spot along your throat, you feel him reach between your bodies before you both groan as he guides his cock into your entrance. 

“Your okay, baby. Daddy’s got you.” His words cause your pussy to clench tighter around him and he grunts at the feeling as he lifts his head to rest his forehead on yours. “Open your eyes and look at me, sweetheart.”

Eddie watches you struggle to do what he asked as your eyelids flutter open and your jaw drops, your breath warming his mouth as he rolls his hips. The contrast between the gruffness earlier to the softness now felt so euphoric and you were enjoying every minute of it. 

Pushing up onto his palms, he picked up his rhythm, firmly pumping his length deeper inside you than anyone else had ever been. 

“Don’t—shit—don’t take those beautiful eyes off me.”

“Y-You feel…feel so good…”

“Yeah? Daddy’s cock feels good? Keep talking to me, baby.”

“Don’t…don’t stop…please. I need to feel you cum.”

A breathy fuck left his lips as his head hung and the tendrils of hair that had fallen out of his hair tie grazed cheek. Your hands found purchase on any part of his body you could touch, his sweaty chest, his muscular back, and his equally damp neck. You leaned up to press your mouth to his and the taste of his tongue mingling with yours was more than enough to drive you over the edge. 

Eddie felt it immediately, falling flat against you to roll his hips as hard as he could till you body shook and came. 

“Good…good girl. Daddy’s gonna give you what you want.”, he whispered with exasperation, desperate for his own release. After a sexy smirk and a soft caress of his nose against yours, his head fell to the side as he chased his high, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room till you heard him loudly grunt in your ear. 

His fingers dug into the pillow beside you as he slammed his spend into your cunt and your limbs clung tightly around him, guiding his movement with your palms on his ass.

You were in such a total state of bliss you didn’t even feel him get out of bed until you were being lifted into the air. 

“Whoa, sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m just taking you to the shower. You’re ok.”, he comforted as you quickly clung to his neck. 

You hissed briefly when warm water hit your behind but once it subsided, you melted into the water pressure. Eddie kneeled in front of you and tenderly kissed parts of your skin as he reached for something behind you. It took you a moment to realize what he was doing, surprising you when the feel of a washrag carefully glided along your frame. 

No one had ever done this for you before. No one had ever taken the time to do any kind of aftercare let alone be this in depth. Your eyes carefully watched as he focused in on his task, being extra gentle when the rag ran along his handprints on your ass. 

Rising to his feet, he cleaned the rest of you and as soon as he was done, you (a bit roughly) wrapped your arms around his waist as you placed your head against his chest. His own arms circled around you, holding you to him as he rested his cheek on top of your hair. You listened to his heartbeat as he silently held you; for how long you weren’t sure nor did you care. 

When you finally pulled back and your eyes met his, you saw nothing but care.

After spinning you around, you giggled as he allowed the water to drench his hair and body while he haphazardly ran his palm with soap along his skin. When Eddie was done, he made you laugh harder as he turned off the faucet and shook his head like a dog in your direction while trying to contain his own smile. 

“Wait right here for one second, ok?”, he asked after guiding you out and handing you a towel. 

The metalhead wasn’t gone for long and when he returned, he hastily dried you making you realize that you hadn’t even begun doing the task yourself waiting for him to come back and take care of you. 

When he brought you back out into his bedroom, you took note that he changed the sheets and laid out some essentials onto his mattress. Once he had a pair of boxers on, Eddie turned you away from him as he took a seat on his bed and after a few moments you felt something cold touch your skin. 

“Op, sorry. I should have given you a little warning. This is lotion to prevent any kind of bruising or anything like that to this sexy ass.”, he conveys, his smile growing when you laugh. “You may be a bit sore for a day or two but… Do you feel like you need anything else, honey? Ice or anything?”

“No, thank you.”, you reply in a small voice that tells him you’re still slightly in that headspace.

“Ok, pretty girl. How are feeling in here?”, Eddie asks as his fingers reach up to playfully tap your forehead. 

“I feel ok…calm…I’ve never…no one has ever taken care of me after.”

The boy notices your expression sadden slightly and as he pulls a big shirt over your head; he kisses your lips and brings you closer to him. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me, sweetheart. No matter what, Daddy will take care of you and do aftercare. That’s another important rule, ok? After we play, I need you to be open and honest with me about how you feel. If you’re in pain or your head feels a bit heavy and low, let me know.”

“I promise.”

Nodding to himself, he reaches for the water bottle he brought, handing it to you so you can chug some of it back before handing it off to him who promptly finishes the rest and tosses it towards the trashcan. 

“What about you?”

“What do you mean, babe?”

Blinking and shifting bashfully, you try to answer his question while in your current headspace. 

“How do I…aftercare you?”

Eddie beams up at you so wide you can’t help but blush before he circles his arms around your waist and pulls you back into his bed. 

“Taking care of you is my aftercare but I love that you asked me that. I promise though, if I need anything I’ll be open and honest with you.” His gaze shifts for a moment as a thought passes. “This is more a less what being in a sexual relationship with me is like, Y/N. Was there anything I did that you would rather we not do?”

“I liked it, Eddie…all of it.”

“Good…good. That’s why I had you leave the other day. We hadn’t had this talk yet and I didn’t know what you were comfortable with. When it comes to being Daddy, I can be stern when I need to be. When I’m with Steve, we usually do the harder stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Restraints, slapping, toys, humiliation…”

“Maybe…maybe I can watch one day…if you’re comfortable with that.”

Eddie’s slightly surprised expression meets your serious one. 

“Are you sure? I sense that you’ve been through some things…I mean you alluded to…I don’t want you to feel like I’m cheating on you… I haven’t even been on my site except to talk to that friend I told you about.”

Fuck…I forgot about that…

“Eddie, I have to tell you something.” 

As his soft, earnest eyes waited for you speak, you couldn’t help the fear that weld up in your throat. Eddie was the nicest, most caring man you had ever been with and you were afraid once you came clean you’d lose him. 

You just got him back after hurting him once already…

“I…just wanted to tell you…it doesn’t bother me. I know you’re only doing it for the money.”

The metalhead breathes a sigh of relief as he leans down to kiss your lips. 

####################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @twirls827 @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @hardladyheart @spiderxbatty @twirls827 @daveythorntonslocker @eddies-dungeon-and-dragon @mrsjellymunson @utterlyinsanity

[seospicybin]

SEOSPICY PREVIEW.

CAM: CHAPTER I.

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: Struggling to make ends meet as an art student, Hyunjin never expected his quiet neighbor to change everything. Rumored to be an adult content creator, you offer him a deal—help you with your content, and you’ll help with his financial troubles. What starts as a simple arrangement soon blurs into something more, pulling Hyunjin into a world he never imagined.

Preview under cut!

...

You grab your laptop from the side table and place it on the coffee table in front of you, opening it up with practiced ease. “Okay,” you say, “before we get into details, I think you should see what you’re working with.”

Hyunjin nods hesitantly, watching as you pull up your page on Lustre. The sleek layout fills the screen, and the first thing that catches his eye is your profile picture—a sultry but tasteful shot of you draped in soft, golden light, wearing nothing but a loosely tied silk robe. Your bio is playful, teasing, with a winking emoji at the end. Then, you scroll down.

Hyunjin’s eyes catch on the rows of thumbnails displaying your content. His face heats up instantly.

There are suggestive selfies, carefully posed yet intimate—close-up shots of your lips slightly parted, your fingers toying with the hem of a lace bralette. Some photos show you in bed, bathed in dim lighting, the sheets barely covering your bare skin. Others are more artistic, using shadows and colors to frame your body in ways that feel sensual but not overtly explicit.

Then there are the videos. His breath catches slightly when he sees the previews—short clips of you adjusting the straps of your lingerie, slow movements of fabric sliding down your shoulders, the flicker of a smirk before the video cuts off.

He clenches his jaw, eyes darting anywhere but the screen.

You notice immediately. “Are you blushing?” you tease, tilting your head to look at him.

“No,” he lies, voice tight.

You lean in slightly and playfully bump his shoulder with yours, amusement dancing in your eyes. “You are.”

Hyunjin huffs out a breath, staring at a random spot on the wall. “I just—” He gestures vaguely at the screen. “I wasn’t expecting to see… all that.”

You chuckle, scrolling through the page like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “You’re gonna have to get used to it. If you’re taking my pictures, you’re gonna see a lot more than just thumbnails.”

Hyunjin swallows. Hard.

You watch him struggle for a second before laughing softly. “Relax,” you say, nudging his knee with yours. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Despite your teasing, Hyunjin keeps his gaze locked on the laptop screen as his mind starts to drift. It’s not just the content that has his heart hammering—it’s you. The way you carry yourself, the way you look in your photos and videos. Confident. Beautiful. Completely at ease in your own skin. He wonders if you always look like that, or if it’s something you turn on for the camera. Either way, he can’t deny how stunning you are.

He clears his throat, pushing those thoughts away before they can take root. “I like your content,” he says, trying to keep his voice neutral.

You turn to him, raising a brow. “Oh?”

Realizing how that might’ve sounded, he quickly shakes his head. “I mean—! I didn’t mean it like—” He nervously rubs his lips. “I just meant that… you have a distinct taste. And you actually did great with the artistic elements. The lighting, the composition—it’s impressive.”

A slow smile spreads across your lips, and it’s different from the teasing ones you’ve given him before. This one is softer. Genuine.

“Thank you,” you say, and Hyunjin feels a strange warmth settle in his chest.

He likes the way you’re smiling at him. Not in a way that’s meant to seduce or entertain, but like you actually appreciate his words. It makes him want to say more. To let you know that he really does admire what you’ve built for yourself, that there’s something captivating about you beyond the content you create but he thinks it's best to keep those thoughts to himself.

Your expression shifts, the playful teasing fading as you prop a hand under your chin. “So, what do you think?” you ask, tilting your head slightly. “Any ideas for new content?”

Hyunjin exhales, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t know… What do you usually do to prepare?”

You shrug. “I plan out the concept first, depending on the theme I want to go for. Then I figure out the setup—lighting, camera angles, outfits, or props if I need them. Once that’s done, I shoot everything myself, edit, and post.”

His eyes widen, surprised and impressed all at once. “You do all of that alone?”

“Yeah,” you say simply. “It’s a lot of work, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

He watches you for a moment, considering. “Then… why do you suddenly want me to work for you?”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Because I like your art.”

Hyunjin blinks, confused. “What?”

You lean back into the sofa, your eyes flickering with amusement at his reaction. “I saw some of your paintings before.”

That catches him off guard. His brows furrow in intrigue. “When?”

“When you moved into the building,” you admit. “I saw a few canvases when you were carrying them inside. I didn’t say anything back then, but I could tell they were good.”

Hyunjin grips the can in his hands a little tighter. No one’s ever said that to him before—not like that. Sure, his professors give him critiques, and his classmates throw around compliments in passing, but no one has ever told him they like his art in such a simple, assured way.

And it’s not just empty flattery. You didn’t even need to say it. You could’ve just left it at needing a photographer, but instead, you told him you liked his work—like it meant something to you.

A strange warmth spreads in his chest, unfamiliar yet comforting. He clears his throat, willing away the feeling before it shows on his face. He keeps his gaze on the table, pretending to focus on the laptop screen.

“So… what exactly do you want me to do?” he asks, keeping his voice steady.

You smile knowingly, as if you already saw through him. But instead of pushing, you shift back to business. “Let’s start by figuring out a new concept together.”

...

Full fic will be released this Friday, April 4th. Or you can read it early on my Patreon:

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part twelve//t.c.

Warnings: smut, cursing, smut, cum on body, smut, fluff, dirty talk

This one is long, but it is a smutfest

“You don’t really own any skirts, do you?” Timmy asked you randomly that Monday morning. Luckily, it was only the two of you at his place.

“What?” you frowned slightly at him, having to look up from the laptop.

“Skirts. You never wear them.” he said plainly.

“No? Is that a new requirement or something?” you joked.

He pressed his lips together, shrugging, “Maybe just a suggestion. Take my card to whatever stores you like and buy yourself some skirts.”

“And why should I do that?”

He smirked, walking around the kitchen island to where you were sitting, leaning in close, he said, “Because your boyfriend needs easy access.” He placed his hand on your denim-clad thigh, slowly letting it roam inward.

You gasped as he hovered over your pussy.

“See? Wouldn’t it be better if your jeans weren’t in the way right now?” he pressed his fingers against you through the material, circling slowly.

You swallowed, clearing your throat, “Timothée.”

He leaned in closer to your face, “I want you right now.”

“But we’re working.” you fake protested.

“It can wait.” he said, pulling your chair out, grabbing you by the arm and throwing you over his shoulder.

……

“Aw, yesss!” you cried, gripping the sheets hard as Timmy had you bent over the bed. His hips smacked your ass rapidly as his cock plunged in and out of you.

“Oh, baby…my baby girl. Fuck, you feel so good.” his voice quivered with pleasure. He dug his fingers into your hips, holding you up as you were trembling and unable to keep up on your knees.

You threw your hair back with a huff and caught glimpse of the alarm clock on the nightstand, “Fuck! Timmy, Josh Safdie is calling you in five minutes!”

“That’s all the time we need.” he assured you, ramming his cock in you even faster.

You yelped in surprise, your toes curling as he brought you over the edge of an orgasm.

……….

Timmy had his phone to his ear, talking to his director as he wiped his cum off your belly with a damp cloth.

You couldn’t help but giggle at situation.

He gave you a mock angry look and you covered your mouth, still laughing. “No, Josh, it’s not a bad time. That’s just my assistant being a goofball. But yeah, that all sounds great.”

As he wrapped up the phone call, you took the used cloth to the hamper in the bathroom, using the facility before returning to Timmy’s bedroom. You couldn’t help but notice how comfortable you had become in his place. Yes, it was the setting in which you worked often, but it started to feel like home. He felt like home.

You walked back into his room, grabbing his big t-shirt that he had been wearing earlier, but it had been thrown to the floor. You put the shirt on and sat on the bed as he was saying goodbye to Josh.

“Hey, that’s my shirt.” he teased.

“Sorry, do you want me to take it off?” you smiled cheekily.

Timmy shrugged, eyebrows raised, “I mean, you look great in clothes, but I think I like you out of them just a little bit more.”

“Hm, of course you do you.” you said with a playful eye roll.

“So, are ready to go to Tokyo with me?” he asked you nonchalantly and climbed onto you.

“Tokyo? So filming is still on for Marty Supreme?”

“Yeah, everything is being settled now." he rested his arms over your belly, setting his chin there. "And I want you to come with me.”

“As your assistant or…?”

“My girlfriend and my assistant.” he affirmed. “I need you there with me. You help me with so much and I’ll have a shit ton of new lines to go over."

“If I’m getting paid, then okay.” you grinned.

“Oh, that’s the only reason you’ll go, huh?” he gently bumped his nose on yours.

“What other reasons are there?” you asked coyly.

"Hmm, let’s see, there's the Japanese culture to explore, yummy food, then there’s the A Complete Unknown premiere, and um,” his eyes got a darker as his lips turned up into a smirk, “we can fuck over there." he smirked, moving up your body to kiss your lips.

You moaned softly as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, “Mm, fucking,” you spoke between warm kisses, “is that a promise?” You pecked his lips.

“I would fuck you every hour if I could.” his voice was low, he was still hungry for more even though you just got done making love.

You blushed, “Do you love me that much?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Good.” your heart began to race, you knew it was the right time, “Because I love you, Timothée Chalamet.”

His eyes brightened back up, and he smiled wide, “You do?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean-"

He cut you off with a kiss. He took your face in his hands, “Mm, I’m definitely fucking you again, right now.”

You laughed as he assumed the missionary position, holding your thighs. “We’re not going to get any work done today.” you remarked.

……

The next day, Timmy again brought up the topic of you buying some skirts for work, so you decided it’d be best to oblige him. While out running errands for him, you went to some clothing stores, picked out and tried on skirts and purchased a few with his credit card.

It felt strange, carrying items for yourself. You were used to shopping for Timmy, but then again, maybe this was for him. It was his request, after all.

Once you started wearing the skirts, he seemed quite pleased. You had a black pencil skirt that hugged all the right places, and he would take full advantage, running his hand along your hip as you walked by, cupping your ass when he stopped behind you.

One day, you’d worn a mini skirt, plaid patterned and pleated. He took you in the kitchen within minutes of you starting the workday. He pushed you up against the counter, but he didn’t remove your skirt, he just pushed your panties to the side and slid his cock right in from behind.

Timmy railed you, brought your leg up, placing it onto the counter so he could push in deeper. “Fuck.” he cursed under his breath. He then held you closer, sinking his teeth into your neck.

Your pussy started to convulse around his cock, you whimpered, holding onto his arm and bracing yourself with your other hand on the countertop.

He fucked you mercilessly, lifting you off your feet.

You moaned like a pornstar. He rammed his cock into your g spot over and over, and you clenched your eyes shut, seeing stars. You let go, and your body shook with release. You heard Timmy curse again as fluids sprang out from between the two of you.

……..

“So, your flight leaves at-" you were talking to Timmy when his photographer friend, Aidan, came waltzing in.

“Damn, y/n, since when do you wear skirts? You look fine as hell!” he exclaimed, joining you and Timmy in the living room.

“Hey!” Timmy smacked him hard on the shoulder, “Show some fucking respect.”

“Yo, I’m sorry!” Aidan apologized, rubbing the spot where Timmy hit him, “I didn’t mean any disrespect, just not used to seeing her legs. My bad.”

“It’s all good.” you said with an awkward chuckle.

Aidan sat down on the couch and you shot Timmy a look, and he only shrugged at you in response.

“Well, I’ll just leave you guys alone to hang out. I’m gonna go home.” You looked at Timmy with a nod, “See you when you get back?”

He smiled kindly, “Yep. Miss you already.” he said with your signature boss-assistant banter tone.

……..

Sleeping in your own bed for the first time in days was strange. It proved to be difficult for you to fall asleep without Timmy’s warmth. You never expected to be so consumed by a man, but you weren’t upset by it.

You were in a deep sleep when you were awoken by your phone ringing. You groaned in annoyance, thinking to yourself, “Timothée, I could kill you right now.”

Sure enough, it was him. “Yes, Timothée Hal,” you answered as you put the phone to your ear, “what could you possibly want at this hour?” you looked at the screen, “One a.m. Excellent timing.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” he said innocently, “I really didn’t want to wake you up, but I want you.” He didn’t sound needy in a sexual way, but in a way that exuded his need for your presence. “Can I come in, please?”

“What do you mean? Are you here?” you sat up in the bed.

“Yeah I’m literally at your door. Won’t you let me in?”

“Timothée.” you grumbled.

………

“Hey, baby girl.” he said when you opened the door.

“Hello, it’s one in the morning. We are going to sleep.” you said tiredly yet firmly. You held your hand out to him.

He smiled softly as he took your hand and you lead the way to your bedroom. “I wish you were coming to the Paris premiere with me.”

“But you have to see Kylie while you’re there.” you pointed out.

Timmy groaned, “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Once you were in bed together and settled, he spooned you, and his mouth was on your neck.

“Timmy, I have to sleep. I told you that’s what we were doing.” you said, holding firm.

“I know, but…I want you to ride me.”

“Mm, in the morning.”

“No, now.” he insisted.

“Timothée.” you warned.

“Yeah, and you can say my name. Take my cock and scream my name.” he combed your hair back, kissing your shoulder.

You were getting annoyed…and turned on. Sleep was getting further from your mind. You rolled over to your other side to face Timmy. “What cock?” you moved your hand down, palming him through his boxers. “This cock?” you bit your lip.

“That one, yes.” he smirked.

……..

You were both now completely naked, under your sheets. You bounced on his cock as he lay underneath you. You moaned lightly each time his cock sheathed up into you.

Timmy ran his hands up your tummy, squeezing your breasts, “Yes, just like that.” he praised, “Aidan thinks you’re hot, but you’re mine.”

“No,” you panted, “he was just being nice to me.” You put your hands on his chest, moving your hips.

“No, no, he wants you like this. He wants your body, your pussy, your sweet mouth, your tits bouncing in his face. He wants you the way I get to have you. But I’m the only one who gets this tight cunt. Isn’t that right?”

The way he spoke about your body as his cock was rutting into you got you so worked up and hot. You were enjoying the way his cock was destroying you.

“Hey.” he tapped your cheek, “I asked you a question. This cunt belongs to me, right?”

“Yes, yes, pookie. Only you.” you were drunk on his cock, and you were so out of it.

“Pookie? Maybe don’t use that during sex, babes.”

You whined as friction was building inside of you, “Sorry. But yes, you own this pussy. Fuck, your cock is so big.” You moaned, scratching his chest as you came.

You let out a big exhale, then collapsed on his chest.

Timmy kissed your head, and you were asleep within minutes with him still inside of you.

February 9, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala @heatherpi

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey love! Can we order Profiteroles & pull apart bread with a side of tonic water for Danny ric? 🍯🦡

bakery menu

bakery items are still being made! orders coming out every day! please check out what i have to offer! i'd love for you to place an order with me! and thank you to this lovely anon for their order! danny ric with an age gap, my, my, my! i hope you love it!

profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + pull apart bread ("i love you") + tonic water (age gap) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), uni student!reader, tender sex, dorm room sex, cowgirl position

daniel loved the scent of warm vanilla. there was something about it that was familiar. many things held the scent, but sometimes it curled up into his brain and made itself home in there. he could bury himself in it for days in end. better than the sweat and grime of racing.

he knew the woman he was meant to love would smell familiar, like warm vanilla.

so when you were walking down the street on a warm summer's day as you headed to class, the scent of the body wash you used, warm vanilla, caught to his brain. and before he knew it, he was catching up to you.

now six months later, you were in a relationship with daniel ricciardo, one of the top formula one drivers. currently it was the lead up to the grand prix in austin, leaving a small month break for daniel to come and see you while you were in school.

while your dorm at your university was small, the two of you made due for the time you were there. daniel had every expectation to take you away to his hotel and get you out of this crappy dorm. you deserved something finer, but you were stubborn and wanted to work for everything.

it wad hard to have your older boyfriend spoil you when you were so stubborn, but for now he'd simply have to make due with being on the small bed in your dorm room.

daniel was curled up behind you while you watched a movie on your laptop. he was spooning you and taking in the scent of your skin. you felt so good in his arms, and of course, smelling like warm vanilla. it was a feeling of comfort. and it also excited daniel, he shifted his hips a little bit to get the feeling of you against him. his cock somewhat erect in his jeans. he had missed you the weeks he was gone, he wanted to be there for your first day back to campus, but instead he was quite far away. so he was going to savour every moment with you he can get his hands on.

he continued to get his legs tangled up in yours. you giggled a little and looked over behind your shoulder. he took this as a chance to place a kiss on your forehead. "i really missed you." he said, "i wondered how your first day back went."

you turned in his arms and placed one of your arms over him, you leaned in for a kiss on the lips as you asked, "you weren't worried about other guys talking to me?"

"no, no." he was, "of course not." he was lying. until you got back to your dorm, he worried about any male classmates getting too familiar. that you wearing a sweatshirt of his (with his name on it) was going to be mistaken as you being a fan rather than his girlfriend.

he trusted you, he even trusted your male friends. he didn't trust men he didn't know. men were creeps on university campuses, he didn't need you getting hurt. he kissed your face a little more and melted further into you. he asked, "so how sturdy do you think this bed is?" then winked at you.

you grabbed him by the cheeks and moved his head around, "oh my god, you perv." before kissing him again. you felt herself close to him and it didn't help that your boyfriend was so hot it was painful for you at times. that he looked good in a sweatshirt (with your school's logo on it) and jeans that fit just right.

"i'm just asking, i don't think we'd be the first people to do it on this thing." he patted the mattress you were both on. even though it covered in soft purple sheets and there were string lights across the top of the headboard, it still was a dorm mattress, "besides." he said as he held you closer, your legs tangled in his, "i'd love to get out of these jeans."

you kissed him once more, the movie soon forgotten. you giggled against his lips then pulled away, "i swear, danny."

he broke into a grin and took you by the hips. he placed you on top of his clothed lap and let you straddle his waist. he asked, "what? what do you swear?"

you cupped his face, his facial hair under your fingertips, "i swear you're going to kill me one day."

he leaned into your touch as you straddled him. it felt nice being closed to you, even with all the layers of clothes, "i don't want you dead, beautiful. i love you too much. i love you." he said as he gazed into your eyes, his words dripping with sincerity. you knew he loved you, he wouldn't be to eager to see you or move you into a better place than this if he didn't. you heard horror stories about women your age and men, so you were thankful.

you smiled back at him and started to get his sweatshirt off. it was then followed by his shirt and then he worked on the belt of your pants. he started to undress you as well, pushing your clothes off your body with those big paws he called hands. he exposed more of your beautiful body to him. he licked his lips.

with a little work and some moving around, you two got naked in bed together. daniel's gaze lingered on you as he groped your plush thighs. but, before he could get on top of you. you got on top of him.

you were the younger one, but you weren't a baby. you felt his cock press up against you, but not quite slip in. you rubbed your pussy against him a little and watched him shudder.

the famed driver reduced to heavy pants as you slipped yourself onto his cock. he tensed up and held onto the soft covers you owned. he watched your breasts bounce as you leaned back and held onto his legs to work yourself onto his cock. the arch your back and the hardness of your nipples almost made him finish then and there.

you were beautiful. and he vocalized that, "you are the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. nothing is more beautiful than you. fuck, not even the cars on the track are as beautiful as you" he soon held onto your soft hips and bullied his cock as far it would go.

you giggled a little and gripped his legs tightly. his cock hit the farthest parts of you. it felt good and made you toes curl, "its' good to know that i'm hotter than a piece of machinery."

he rubbed his face for a moment and laughed, "you know what i mean. you run my engine, baby. more than any car." he then gripped your hips once more and continued to hit up against your sweetest spots. you felt amazing in his honest opinion.

while rationally he loved your personality. he loved the late night phone calls, even when you two watched trashy television. he loved when you were happy and when you were grumpy. but a primal throb in his head loved that he was your older protector. and that you were simply just so perfect for him.

and he loved when you smelled like warm sugar. a scent that was fading and replaced the smell of sex. your bodies moving together. and in a small fairness, the smell of sex on you got him equally as hard. to know that you were fucked out by him.

"fuck." you shuddered as you thrusts continued. you worked himself onto his cock and felt the fire in your belly. your hands across his hairy chest as you moved. you could feel the sweat on the back of your neck as you moved.

"my beautiful girl." he said. he was a bit older than you, and a lot stronger. but he loved seeing his beautiful girlfriend on top. he moved against you further. he watched your pace become quicker and the noises get louder.

you wouldn't have to worry about a noise complaint if you moved into the flat he picked out for you. his hands dug further into your hips as his cock kissed your softest insides. you felt like a dream and it made his head swim.

his mouth hung open in heavy pants as you two moved together. it was heaven, it was euphoria, it was a rush to the system and soon daniel finished inside of you with an arch of his back off the bed. his fingers dug into the soft hips of his younger girlfriend.

you only grabbed onto his shoulders before better leverage as you moved quicker. your cunt was soaked and your toes curled as you finished around his still hard cock. you panted heavily and bit your bottom lip when a moan almost came out. your heart hammered in your chest and your head swam.

you slowed to a stop and felt your boyfriend's cock still buried in you. you panted heavily, gulping for air from the rush to the system. eventually you just dropped on top of him. your laptop still played the movie, creating a poorly themed soundtrack to your fucking.

but it was alright. daniel honestly wasn't paying attention, too wrapped up in your warmth to keep his focus on anything else. your cunt was a drug that he could get hooked on if he wasn't careful.

but then again, when had daniel ricciardo ever been careful.

there was a knock on the other side of the wall and the words, "keep it down in there!" were heard and your eyes went wide.

you lifted your head quickly and said, "sorry!" before daniel pushed you back down to his fuzzy chest. he held you and kissed the top of your head lovingly.

"see, wouldn't have to deal with that if you moved in that place i picked out." he said, trying to nudge the idea further into your head.

you giggled as you moved to get off of daniel's cock. you kissed his face and said, "i'd rather we get a home together when i graduate. maybe a dog too."

he broke into a smile, it was only another two semesters before that became a reality. he tangled himself up in you and kissed at your beautiful face. he held you in his arms for a moment before he asked, "should i rewind the movie?"

and you looked at him and replied, "how about you put it to the side so we have a little more room. we were apart too long, ricciardo... i want to feel all of my boyfriend."

and who was daniel to deny his beloved girlfriend anything. <3

[ct-multifandom]

El Toro de Piedra reactions

Papacorn more like plateofcorn. I’ve been telling you guys the Ivan lore is gonna go crazy

So is El Toro a real supervillain with super-strength powers or is he just like, some guy wearing a costume? In a world where Luka has magic empath abilities and the ice cream man has divine matchmaking powers I guess it’s not unheard of.

It’s nice to see there are actual criminals in Paris other than Hawkmoth though because before this point it was like “where are the cartoon bank robbers?”

Ok I NEED to know what’s up with Ivan’s mom. “Strong like me and intelligent like your mother” is she also a career criminal? Raul was in jail and Ivan canonically has a younger sister so I’m guessing they live with the mom? Either way his family lore isn’t complete yet

Totally unrelated to anything (the intro reminded me) but I noticed Argos’s eyes look normal in his render but in Revelator they were all purple like in s5. Is he slowly gonna start looking more human over the course of his development?

Gabriel had Adrien wearing that fuckass outfit from birth no wonder he doesn’t know how to dress himself

I like how we’re slowly building a timeline of when exactly Gabriel went insane, like in that plushy that was probably still the Gabi Harry Clown remembered. Somewhere between this and beginning his archeological adventures something happened to him

“You’re gonna know all the secrets of my childhood” [from reading the baby photo album] oh dramatic irony 🦚

Why do I like Luka’s Brazil design more than his default outfit

Ah Marinette you almost walked in on Nathalie’s deeply plot significant evil zoom call. She snapped her laptop shut so fast you’d think she was watching something else

Who thought Luka participating in a concert over FaceTime was a good idea. What kind of utopian sound quality and internet speed do they have in this world? Idk connection is still unreliable tho ig

What’s with him traveling btw because he was clearly back in the Revelator flashback. Do they just teleport him in when they need Viperion or is he traveling back and forth now? Is he gonna come home permanently later?

The conspiracy theorist in me wants to say Gabriel didn’t write that letter and it was planted by the organization but I doubt it. It’s suspicious though. Like when did he write this and what did he think was gonna happen after he died? What if poofing this letter into existence was part of his wish and he had to sacrifice a single sheet of blank printer paper in order to make it happen? Pretty good deal

Ladybug and that STUPID IDIOT chat noir

Ah Ivan’s breakdown censoring the sentimonster stuff just in time of course

I like the way they animated his hand shaking when he dropped the drumstick

So this is a regular thing and he refuses to talk to Mylene about it :(

Mylene literally has one of the best dads in this whole show so maybe Ivan is comparing Raul to Fred and that’s why he feels so weird for having a problematic father

The version of Lila (I assume) stalking Ivan is dressed in traditionally masculine clothes. Maybe she has cross-dress disguises as well.

It’s actually kind of insidious how Nathalie is pushing Marinette into being responsible for hiding things from Adrien. All this crazy shit went down with your villainous boss and somehow the blame for covering it up is going to end up on his son’s high school girlfriend (???)

And *she’s* the one really gunning to sweep it under the rug because if the truth gets out it will primarily have negative consequences for her. I’m not sure how much I believe hiding this is really “for Adrien”

What, you guys don’t know about the secret compartments in the Louvre bathrooms?

Oh hi Alim

Why is it always the Mona Lisa, why do they never go after a less well-guarded painting. Also that room is the French painting gallery and the Mona Lisa isn’t French and is displayed in other parts of the museum… lol I know they only have one gallery modeled and re-use it for everything but still

Ivan’s phone background is the Kitty Section logo

The letter,,, so this is what he was learning in poetry class

Was Raul gonna karate chop the letter in half wtf

I wonder where he’s from, like he’s a Spanish speaker but what country?

Did they ever confirm Ms Bustier was the French teacher before this? I kind of assumed she was but I don’t remember them explicitly saying it and it was more like each class had a main home room teacher than every single class being with different teachers

Nathaniel turn your head more i want to see your miraculous. I think it’s curved? Like it’s a thin and flat silver hair clip but it has a sickle shape that curves around the bunch of hair

Does he have freckles now? Also now we can tell that him having creases under his eyes is just part of what he looks like and not his character model being weird

Zoe what are you doing here you were never even in her class

Sabrina is once again standing directly between Zoe and Max in a group shot. This is maybe the fourth time this season. Incredibly suspicious what is going on here

Yay Mr Montalain looks like he’s in the same art style as everyone else now! And he’s one of the only characters who didn’t have their eyebrows utterly waxed in the redesign. If there’s anything that I have beef with in the redesigns it’s that no one’s allowed to have prominent or interesting eyebrows anymore.

Ondine brown hair animation error?

Even the patriotic People With Blue Eyes cocomelon baby is clapping

The girl with dark skin, a pink pixie cut, and sunglasses on her head is there. She was eating lunch with Adrien, Nino, and Sublime in ep 4 but we don’t know who she is yet

I just noticed Chris is in the crowd, baby why are you an unattended child at the tribute concert for the big kid schoolteacher

The dude in the background who looks like Milo from Atlantis with long curly hair seems like he’ll be one of the new teachers maybe

There’s also a guy who looks like he rides a penny farthing to work, he might also be a new teacher

Aw Ivan’s contact photo for Mylene is her leaning on him

Oh I guess the crime thing maybe is a family business? His grandma? I need the extended Ivan family lore where’s his family tree like those promotional graphics from a while ago

I’d say his dad is a toxic masculinity machismo guy, but him bringing up the grandma (and grandpa) feels like it’s “correcting” for that, like no he’s not patriarchal he was just raised in a hard ass crime family where everyone was like that regardless of gender

That re-contextualizes the Ivan little sister lore :( he probably doesn’t want her to have to deal with the stuff he did and end up like the rest of his family. He might be involved in raising her, too, if his parents are in and out of jail and that might be where his interest in childcare comes from

Off topic, I just finished watching a YouTuber play the game The Roottrees are Dead/Roottreemania which is a mystery puzzle game about piecing together a crazy family tree from nothing and I feel like I’m back in it. “You placed Ivan on the tree and found that Raul is his father. You found the line about his mom’s intelligence, allowing you to place Mrs. Bruel. You collected the clue about Raul being like his dad to fill in Ivan’s grandfather. The line about Ivan’s grandmother setting him straight allows you to add her to the tree. What you may have missed is that in one of the Germany-exclusive trading card game secret lore cards you can find information about Ivan’s younger sister, the last known piece of the tree.”

He looks at his dad like “god you’re pathetic” and then starts running and screaming

Manhole covers are really light in miraculous Paris

Oh so he was keeping the ox miraculous is his pocket. Last episode I thought it was an animation error. Or maybe against school dress code. But he just doesn’t fully accept it

Ivan you were given a free little magical girl animal companion to talk through your problems with and you just gave them away you aren’t utilizing your resources

I’m seeing the pattern here. In Penalteam they all rejected their miraculous for different reasons and now they’re doing it again but expanding on why each of them didn’t want it. Sabrina didn’t think she’d be a good choice because she used to be a bully, and Ivan was afraid of being aggressive because it turns out he doesn’t want to resemble his dad. I’m guessing Marc’s episode will be about overcoming impostor syndrome then, but I’m curious what Nathaniel’s deal is like wtf does “I’m not comfortable being on a team” mean.

Ok his dad being a supervillain is kind of out of nowhere and I do wish there was some sort of foreshadowing that this guy even exists but I gotta say they have been setting this up for a long time. To the point where fans did notice that Ivan probably has issues at home like a violent parent. I feel like the supervillain thing specifically was probably made up later on to make the topic less heavy

TRANSFORMATION the smoke exhale the hammer smash the kicking at the ground slay

My fav part is where he turns his back to the camera and flexes

“I’m not a real singer” lmao why are you the vocalist then what

Rose said star in English is that a thing in French? That the English word for star means rockstar or something because I thought the normal word for star meant that too

THEY 😲👉 THE. ONSCREEN THEY KISSED. After all these years holy moly omg THEY

It sort of pmo when people say “oh so they’re finally canon now” like where have you been. Why do they have to smooch on the lips in front of us for us to know that we already knew that. It’s like every season the show crosses the “oh they’re gay” threshold for more and more people by being more obvious

And when people complain that it was cowardly and not good enough, do you want to see tongue in this children’s cartoon? What more do you want (this is a rhetorical question btw guys don’t be in my replies and also gay marriage has only been legal in the us for ten years and is criminalized in many places let’s be fr). Ok salt over

Anyway they kissed, epic 👉 gay people

Adrien holding phone Luka like how Nathalie used to hold tablet Gabriel. Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes

The song is lowkey quite good what

Maybe the most insane fight sequence in the entire show I might be gagged

I am my fathers daughter

Minotaurox tanking that hit to protect Chat Noir oh if there’s gonna be a “civil war” between him and Ladybug we know whose side Ivan will be taking

From the side profile his hood really does look like an ox’s neck that’s pretty cool

Guys they made Ivan so gorg in the redesign. Character designer 1: ok so I guess Ondine needs normal clothes we could start with that Chatacter designer 2, slamming open the door, gasping out of breath from running up the stairs, a pile of papers flying everywhere: we need to make Ivan cunty

He’s so tuff, equally if not more so than Pegasus I would say which is a pretty high bar

Ladybug’s lucky charm cowboy hat is so unserious girl read the room. this is what happens when the main character is the only bitch on the show with no daddy issues in The Daddy Issues Episode

The visuals in the ep are so artsy. You got Juleka’s chrome neon concert lights vs Ivan’s breaking bad sepia filter western

How did a letter turn into a whip?

They were technically right, Raul didn’t do anything illegal. Yet. What is this new chance program even supposed to do though because I don’t think it’s working

“Your dad was a hero” Adrien: :/

Ah this part :) evil shadow government cult thing. This is how Tomoe’s connected to everything. Are they as an organization The Supreme?

Now that Gabriel’s dead is someone else taking over as The Diamond? They were the second to last one to log off and Nathalie didn’t move so is someone else behind that name now

Maybe Lila… like Kagami said she isn’t special enough to be a diamond so maybe she took that personally and decided to prove her wrong by filling that role ?? ?

Nathalie’s dad is wheat man nooo Marinette’s wheat-based dad is so much better. I wonder if she was raised to be some kind of fucked up secret agent child soldier from a young age and that’s why she has crazy assassin skills. She doesn’t want to be involved in this bs but lacks the courage to face her father. If only she was there to hear about Ivan’s valuable life lesson and how Adrien regrets that he missed the chance to apply it. If only Nathalie still had the chance right ahaha

Gabriel probably wasn’t aware Nathalie was a plant? Or maybe he was and she was more like a conscripted bodyguard idk

The theatre mask icon reminds me of Lila, like obv her metaphorical masks but there have been screenshots circulating about the black and white split mask hanging in her bedroom and how in Climatiqueen, the lighting of the first lightning strike makes Aglae’s face look exactly like that mask. Creepy. Maybe she’s that dude’s daughter and she was also raised to be some spy like Nathalie was.

I’m kinda hoping Lila is being manipulated by the powerful elite adults at some level because that’s more interesting to me than “girlboss teenage girl outsmarts everyone on earth”. Maybe she thinks she’s in charge or on equal terms with the rest of them but they’re using her

I wonder if the Bourgeois are any of these or Bob Roth. I hope they’re mostly new characters. It feels cheap if they’re all established antagonists who aren’t particularly threatening and play silly roles. Tomoe is nothing like that, and also is an industry titan from a totally different country. It seems like these people are the leading elites in certain categories from all around the world. Could this eventually be a setup for more miraculous world specials? Surprise one of these people lives in Rio and one lives in Dakar, see you there.

I’m not analyzing each logo in detail because other people already did it better than I would’ve

Ok that’s enough, maybe see you guys next week for The Ruler or maybe not. I’ll decide if I want to talk about it or not. I committed to post about this one last time because I felt in my balls that it was gonna be fire and it was.

[miffysighs]

The quiet hum of Kei’s apartment always made Yn feel at ease. She lounged on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her, lazily scrolling through Kei’s phone. He didn’t mind he never had. They were open with each other like that. She would often scroll through his camera roll, teasing him about random pictures he’d taken everything from sunsets to candid shots of her that she didn’t even know existed.

Kei was at his desk, typing something on his laptop, completely absorbed in his work. Yn giggled to herself as she came across a series of goofy selfies he’d taken while she wasn’t looking. She made a mental note to tease him about them later.

But then she stumbled upon those pictures. Her fingers froze.

They were pictures of them intimate, raw, moments that were meant to stay between the sheets and their memories. They’d taken them during one of their more passionate nights together, just for fun, a playful exchange at the time. Yn had completely forgotten about them, assuming Kei had deleted them after their little joke.

But here they were, still saved on his phone.

“Kei?” Yn’s voice was a mix of surprise and slight panic. “You still have these?”

“Hmm?” Kei didn’t even look up from his laptop, too engrossed in whatever he was typing.

Yn held up his phone, waving it in his direction. “The photos. You know, those photos. The ones we took a while back?”

He finally glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. Why?”

Her eyes widened, and she stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “What do you mean, why? Why haven’t you deleted them yet? What if they accidentally spread or someone saw them?”

Kei chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Relax. They’re not going anywhere. It’s not like I’m sharing them around.”

“Still,” Yn pressed, her voice rising slightly. “It’s risky. What if someone gets a hold of your phone? You can’t just keep those kind of pictures lying around!”

Kei leaned forward, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Nah, I like having them around.” He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I still use them sometimes, you know… when you’re not here.”

Yn’s face immediately flushed, and she smacked his arm with the nearest pillow. “Kei!”

He laughed, his deep voice filling the room. “What? It’s true. You’re not always around, and I’ve got to… handle things on my own sometimes.”

“You’re disgusting!” she squealed, covering her face with her hands, but she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. As much as she wanted to be mad, Kei’s nonchalant honesty and teasing always managed to disarm her.

“Disgusting, huh?” Kei smirked, standing up and walking over to her. He plucked his phone from her hand with ease, sitting down beside her. “You didn’t seem to think that when we were taking those photos.”

Yn narrowed her eyes at him, her face still flushed. “That’s different! We were in the moment, and I thought you’d delete them after.”

“Why would I do that?” Kei said with a playful shrug. “I like having a reminder of how lucky I am. Plus, I kind of want to show people who you belong to. It’d save me the trouble of explaining.”

Yn’s jaw dropped in mock horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He grinned, enjoying the reaction. “Maybe I would.”

Before he could say another word, Yn swung the pillow at him again, hitting him square in the chest. “Kei! That’s so gross!” she laughed, though her heart fluttered a little at the thought of Kei’s possessive side coming out in such a teasing way.

He chuckled, catching the pillow mid-swing and pulling her close. “I’m kidding, Yn. I’d never share them. They’re just for me. Just for us.” His tone shifted slightly, a hint of sincerity breaking through the playful façade.

Yn looked up at him, her mock anger fading as she saw the serious look in his eyes. “You better not, Tsukki,” she said softly, using his nickname to let him know she was only half-serious. “But seriously, you should probably delete them. I mean, for safety.”

Kei sighed dramatically, leaning his head back against the couch. “Fine, fine. I’ll delete them. But I’m keeping at least one. For… personal use.” He gave her a cheeky smile, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, resting her head on his shoulder.

“And yet, you love me,” Kei teased, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer.

Yn rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it, leaning into him with a content sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let me catch you looking at those again, or you’re in for another pillow to the face.”

Kei grinned. “Deal.

(Thanks for reading lmaooooo) 😭

[cranberryjuice-posts]

I’m not 100% sure if requests are open but if they aren't pls disregard this!

Is it ok if I request a Clarisse x reader where their on a quest and there's only one bed (basic I know). Maybe there on a quest with some other people and they all know about the readers crush on Clarisse and vice versa so they make sure they get a room together?

And while their in the bed together it's super small so their squished close to one another and it’s just super cute!

- just one chance -

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x fem! Reader

An - i only have one more request to write 😭

“Really” is all clarisse had to say. She gave a dirty look to silena ignoring the fact that you both were supposed to sleep in the small room. It barley had enough space for you to walk in let alone sleep.

Stepping into the closet like space choosing to not pay attention to the growing argument outside. You started placing down the chairs to form a bed, adding the sheets, and making the bed itself. Once content you took a step back grabbing clarisses arm to gain her attention. “Look it forms a bed. You can take the room and I’ll find somewhere to sleep in the viewing hall”

“Like hell you are! You can take the room” her tone still agressive though softer when it came your way.

“—Or! You both could just share the room I mean the bed seems big enough” silena continued with an evil smile pressing the issue of you being together. You knew she knew, she was the daughter of love how couldn’t she.

Your crush on clarisse had been something you tried keeping under wraps, even if that meant denying it to even yourself. Silena had found out about your feelings early on— lucky for her she also knew about clarisse heart throb to.

Being put on this quest with you both was the perfect time for her to play match maker much to both of your dismay. Taking every chance she got to force you to together which now led to her ‘accidently’ loosing one of the room tickets.

“I don’t see the problem” silena kept her innocent act.

“The fucking Problem is—“ the only reason for her pause was due to you squeezing the girls bicep making her look down at you.

“Next time please don’t fuck up the room tickets ok..” you sighed.

“And we’re not done with this conversation got it!” Clarisse made sure she had the final word.

“Great! Happy we got this settled” Silena Just smiled happily as she skipped down the hall to check out the rest of the train. Leaving you both alone.. again.

——

Walking back to the rooms from the public shower hall both you and silena laughed over some silly memory from camp.

“Thank you again for letting me borrow a pajama set I really don’t know how mine got lost” you smiled at the brunette. Taking a look down you admired the red plaid pj shorts and the black tanktop— simple yet cute.

“Of course, you can keep them the plaid really clashes with my skin anyways” she giggled. Arriving at your rooms you waved goodbye to silena before opening your door.

You and clarisse looked at eachother with confusion as you had on matching pajamas only clarisses had long plaid sweats and a black wifebeater. “I’m going to kill her”

“It’s pajamas” You rolled your eyes climbing onto the bed and shutting the door.

“And she’s playing devils advocate” clarisse scorfed going back to her spear.

You admired the girls handiwork with her weapon. Not anyone could polish and keep a spear clean quiet like clarisse. Dragging yourself away from her form you had an idea. Leaning forward and grabbing your bag you pulled out your laptop

Kicking the bag aside before crawling under the covers you tried to make as much room on the tiny bed.. A minute later clarisse wrapped an arm around you just to make both of you more well comfortable. “What are you doing” she curiously asked. You however just ignored her, opening the laptop and quickly connecting to the Wi-Fi clarisse practically snatched your mac book away. “Are You Crazy?! You’ll attract monsters to us that I’ll have to kill”

“Calm down lise” you took the computer back. “I had the Hephaestus cabin Alter this so Monsters as a matter of fact can’t track us”

“Did they prove that?”

“Well.. no”

It amused you how she just rolled her eyes. After a few moments you had successfully pulled up an illegal website; typing into the browser you pulled up the movie ‘legally blonde’. Setting the computer on both of your laps as you were both squished together.

Moving around some both of you ended up cuddling, bodies tangled and heads closed to eachother; You Just listened to clarisses heartbeat.

“If a monster Does find us it’ll be worth it” clarisse sighed kissing the top of your head. You felt your whole body heat up, giving a flustered smile you sank more into the warmer girl. “What are You doing?” She chuckled.

“It’s cold out”

“It’s 75 degrees”

“Yeah Cold”

——

The movie came to an end faster than you wished. Placing the computer aside, and getting comfortable once more you decided to suck it up and finally confess. It was the perfect moment you had been waiting for— cuddling for the past hour, making jokes and even shy hands trailing each others body; if you hadn’t done it silena would of murdered you. Taking the chance you sat up, looking down at clarisse for a moment. Everything about her just amazed you.

Her brown eyes, her curly hair, the way she managed to stay strong and fierce while keeping her feminine side. You leaned down placing a kiss on her lips.

Immediately she placed her hands on your waist allowing her to deepen the kiss. Breaking away only for a second just to kiss you once again.

It moved faster that expected but that was fine. Grabbing her face into your hands you let out a soft moan trying to keep up with her desire.

Finally breaking free You panted with shot pupils. Clarisse looked the same as you. “I like you— like a lot, like more then a friend” you managed out.

“Thank the gods” she muttered before kissing you once again. Her hands traveled up your body until they found them self’s on the side of your neck. Pulling back clarisse moved you around on the bed so you could lay beside her.

Sitting in silence she gently rubbed your cheek, forcing your hair back so she could look at you and only you. “Can I be your girlfriend… please” she whispered.

It would of hard to of said no. Smiling wide you tangled your body with hers once more. “Yeah I think we can arrange for that”

Silena - you and yn are together— I wonder who could of set that up 😈

Clarisse - yeah thanks or whatever

Yn - dude

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bound By Blood

Being on your period was already a pain as it is, but accidentally binding yourself to a demon with a menstrual pad was a real cherry on top.

demon!Daemon Targaryen x Reader x bf!Aemond Targaryen | 2k+| cw: fem!reader, modern au, menstruation and its symptoms (duh), bloody depictions, crack fic, dumbass shenanigans, internet translated high Valyrian, typos, etc.

A/N: after reading @happilyhertale's period fic and @lady-phasma's period fic, i remembered a tumblr post i saw a long time ago about how napkins have really pretty designs for no reason cuz ur gonna get blood all over it anyway. as tumblr posts do, it spiraled and someone likened the designs to like a pentagram then someone was like u could accidentally summon a demon, thus this. i really did try to find it but alas i could not

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @ceoofyearning

@targaryenmoony @risefallrise @thebullship @sa3losa @pendragora @sloanexx

If you've ever had a hard time with your period, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe, as the people in Palestine do not have access to any sort of feminine hygiene products; help her and her family evacuate.

"Lovie?"

"Yeah?"

I put my phone on loud speaker and place it on the side of the sink, "did I tell you to buy macadamia chocolates?"

"... no. I'll get you some."

"And something salty," I sit on the toilet and open my pad packet. I peel the red wrapper off.

"Mmm... crisps?"

"Yeah, the pink one."

"Alright. Anything else, love?"

I change the napkin on my underwear before replying, "mmm... oh! Please read the packaging. I want pads with wings, Aemond, with wings."

"Right. Copy, copy. With wings."

I pull my shorts up and flush the toilet, "thank you, love."

"Mmm. Love you. Bye."

"Bye, love. I love you."

The call ends and I wrap my used napkin in the wrapper of my new pad, rolling it up, and throwing it out. I grab my phone and walk back to my bed.

I huff and get under the sheets, petting the black cat asleep on top of it. Vhagar wags her tail once and I grab my laptop, continuing my binge session.

I wince when I feel a dull pain in my uterus. I pause my show and lean into my pillow, riding out the discomfort.

I moan and begin to heave. My eye twitches at the stabbing sensation. I slowly get out of bed, annoyed by the gush of blood I feel when I move. I make my way to my kitchen and grip on the counter as I prepare a kettle for some tea.

"Stop hating me cause I'm not pregnant," I hiss at my uterus as the pain continues.

I push my weight onto the counter top as I reach for a mug and a tea bag. I huff and screw my eyes. Once the pain subsides enough, I grab my kettle and turn, putting it on the stove. Once the fire is lit, I turn back to grab my mug and place the tea bag in my mug.

Suddenly, the room is thick, the atmosphere is heavy, and there is an inexplicable feeling of dread in my stomach. I feel my body warm and the hairs at the back of my neck raise, and it was not because of my period.

"Iksis ziry iā rūs jaelā?" Is it a baby you want?

I gasp and snap back, pulling my mug to my chest. My eyes widen and my heart leaps into my throat as I behold a towering figure covered in blood. Its body is barely contained in the room; its long neck coils downward to peer at me and its wings are cramped together behind itself. It's as though all the blood in my body drains.

The dragon-like creature chuckles deeply, his golden eyes sparkle, "gaoman jorrāelagon se yknagon hen zūgagon," I do love the smell of fear. It reaches out and delicately scratches its talons on my neck, "but I would not frighten you to death before completing our pact, devoted."

My body is frozen cold in fear as he pulls away. Slowly, its body morphs into a man. The reptilian features and glistening scales where replaced by long, silver hair and plump, smirking lips, all still drenched in blood. His expression mischievous and expectant.

"Ask of me, and see the beauty in thine blood offering to Daemon, The Rogue Prince."

Through barely a breath, in the most strained of voices, I mutter, "w h a t ?"

A rich chuckle bubbles out of his curved lips, "oh, I do loathe the coy and simple-minded. If you wish to amuse me, flatter me. Do not play dumb."

I slowly try to maneuver away from him, "I-" I whisper under sharp breaths, "I don't know what you mean-"

In a rush of either confidence or lunacy, I sprint away from him and run back into the bedroom. I scream and halt in my spot when I collide with the same being's chest.

I feel blood stick to me as I recoil and drop to the floor at the impact. The creature looks down on me and lifts his chin, "what's that then?"

Daemon points to the floor, causing me to look and see nothing but the panels.

Just then, Vhagar awakes and begins to go feral. She hisses loudly at the man, and I scramble to my feet, trying to get to her and calm her down, fearing he blood bathed being would kill her.

Remarkably, it seems I should actually do the opposite as the demon is deterred by Vhagar. He steps back and lowers his gaze. He chuckles dryly as I jump on the bed, going behind Vhagar.

"What is this trickery?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

He scoffs and I swear his eyes are set ablaze, "I am bound by my sigil, woman, and I smell the blood on it."

My face morphs into bewilderment, "I DID NOT MAKE A BLOOD SACRIFICE-"

"Where is your summoning circle then!" he demands.

Vhagar hisses at his tone, her fur prickling as Daemon steps forward. He stills and draws in a deep breath. I swear his eyes go red for a second.

He points again, this time at me, "your legs."

My eyes widen preternaturally.

"My blood altar is between your thighs."

Meanwhile, Aemond was on the bus when he received a call.

He picks it up, "hel-"

"THERE'S A-" he pulls his phone away from his ear, "-DEMON IN OUR HOME! AEMOND-"

Aemond knits his brows tightly in concern at the sound of sobbing. He pulls his groceries closer to his chest, "honey, what do me--"

"THERE'S A DEMON IN OUR- VHAGAR NO--"

Aemond's heart drops at the sound of the commotion from the other end of the call. He hears cat yowling and objects crashing. He stiffens and speaks as calmly as possible, "I'm coming home. I'm almost there. Can you hear me, I-" the call ends.

By the time he gets home, his defenses are up. The ruckus from the inside is audible from outside the apartment. He holds his groceries in one hand and opens the door, warily entering. He grabs the long purple umbrella by the rack and closes the door soundlessly. He stalks inside, clenching his jaw at the sudden silence.

He surveys the place and sees the mess, yet no soul was present. He places the groceries on the kitchen top and creeps into the bedroom.

The door was already open, but, still, there was no one.

He freezes when Vhagar hisses. He lifts his gaze upon the black, senior cat sat at the top of the closet, looking into space with her fur raised.

"Aemond?!"

Aemond lowers his gaze.

"NO, DON'T HURT HIM!" I scream from inside the closet.

Aemond grips the umbrella and looks around the room. Vhagar hisses again.

He looks at his cat then the closet door.

"AEMOND- NO-- I'M PULLING YOU IN-"

Without another word, I leap out of the closet and grab Aemond, yanking him inside. I immediately shut the doors and begin to hyperventilate.

"What's happening? What's going on?" he asks, clutching my cheeks.

I whine and grip his wrists in distress. I whisper, "Vhagar's keeping us safe."

Aemond's nostrils flare, "what's happening? What's wrong?"

I shake my head and shudder, "there's a demon--"

"You know I can hear you right?"

I squeal, making Aemond tense and tighten his grip on me. I hear Vhagar hiss from above the closet.

Without much thought, Aemond pushes the doors open and holds his umbrella like a weapon.

I scream and pull him back when I hear sinister laughtera, "AEMOND, NO!"

Aemond claims an offensive stance, ready to bat his umbrella at whomever was in front of him, and yet there was no one. My breath hitches as I anticipate Daemon to jump us both, but he doesn't.

With furrowed brows, the man looks over to me, "baby, there's no o-"

Aemond yelps as I rush out of the closet and drag him out of the bedroom with me. We make our way to the kitchen, and I immediately rummage through the groceries, grabbing the pack of pads.

"Honey, what was it exactly that you-" Aemond cuts himself off as he watches me run out of the room, heading to the bathroom.

Immediately, I pull my shorts down and replace my bloody pad. I stare at the menstrual blood on the white napkin, realizing only now that there was, in fact, a sigil of a three headed dragon on the surface.

"There is it."

I scream. I look up at the bloody Daemon staring back at me, smirking with crossed arms.

I hear Aemond run towards the bathroom door. He calls out my name in concern.

I rip my used napkin off my underwear and chuck it to the demon. I scream once more when he manifests beside me, avoiding my assault.

"Unsanitary," Daemon clicks his tongue.

Aemond bangs on the door, "what's going on? Do you need any help?"

I sidestep away from Daemon and hurriedly replace my pad.

Aemond calls out my name as he knocks.

Daemon turns to the door, lips curling in annoyance, "I will slay him if he enters."

My eyes widen. It was only then I realized there was a sword hanging upon his hip. I feel sick.

Aemonds sounds agitated, "I'm coming insi-"

"NO!" I rip my pants up and run to the door. I shove Aemond back the moment I can. I squeeze myself out of the small opening and I push him back until he finally repels me and grabs my arms. Aemond and I are in the kitchen by then.

He calls out my name and grabs my cheeks. His face is marked by worry.

I panic, "wait, where's Vhagar?"

"She's probably just-"

"DID HE KILL VHAGAR-"

"Look at me!"

I stare at him with wide, watery eyes. I whimper through a broken voice, "Vhagar was the only thing keeping me safe."

"From the demon?" Aemond asks carefully, swiping my tears with his thumbs.

"Please-" I choke out, "-believe me, I-"

"I believe you, darling," he strokes my hair. He pulls away and grabs the salt jar on the counter. He shows me the container before pouring some in his hand.

I raise my brows as he presents me the salt in his cupped palm.

Aemond speaks calmly, "if I see that fucker, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

Aemond shrieks and chucks the salt behind me. In the same terrified manner, I squeal and run behind Aemond.

The demon groans, "ao doru-borto qogralbar!" You stupid fuck!

Aemond pushes me behind him as he watches the blood covered man rub his eyes. He almost, out of instinct, chucked the whole jar at him, but he was glad he didn't. He pours a salt circle on the floor.

Aemond pulls me into his chest and begins to chant, "qrīdrughagon lēda ao!" Away with you!

Daemon looks up at us with a furious expression. His rage is quelled but when he sees the ground which we stood. His red eyes widen as he looks up at me, as if in disbelief of what he was seeing.

I tug on Aemond's shirt with agitation, "is this circle gonna keep us-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!" Aemond shouts.

Daemon's eye twitches, "who is this imbecile you seek refuge in?"

"Don't answer it! Don't give him my name," Aemond says as he fishes something in his pocket.

"You act as though I know not your name is Aemond, imbecile."

"Aemond, I really think we-"

"Ignore him," says Aemond as he pulls out his phone.

Daemon chuckles darkly, "oh... how sweet you think such a thing is possible.

I cling tightly onto Aemond as he pulls out his phone. I whimper, "is now really the time?!"

"I'm calling Aegon," Aemond replies, placing his phone to his ear.

"What?!"

"He knows how to do an exorcism."

"?!?!?"

"You dare," Daemon yells, "think that I-"

"He was recruited in a cult once."

"-would be easily cast out by m-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!"

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe so that she and her family can evacuate and experience the luxury of reading fics in the safety of their homes.

[meadowfics]

we need more in detail little seoah being jealous please 💞

<333

quickly typed this up with squid game s1 in the background lol, sorry for any errors <3

you and daeho always knew that seo-ah was a bit of a velcro child. however, you never expected her to become quite this possessive of both of her parents.

it started small and harmless, even.

the first time you noticed it was one late night when she was barely three. you and daeho were wrapped up together, cuddled warm under the covers, your hand resting on his chest as his arm pulled you closer. you were still six months pregnant with byeol at this time.

everything was still. shoot, it was probably one in the morning at that point. however, things were peaceful until tiny little hands began tugging at the sheets from your side of the bed.

you turned slowly, only half-awake, “seo-ah?”

she stood there with her little bunny tucked under her arm, pout already formed on her lips.

“there’s a monster,” she whispered.

daeho sat up a little, rubbing his eyes, “a monster?”

she nodded.

you patted the bed immediately, “come here, baby. no monsters here.”

at the time you thought she’d snuggle into your growing belly like usual... but no. the moment she climbed up, she crawled directly between you and daeho, quite literally pushing your arms apart and throwing hers over her dad’s chest with fierce determination.

“mine,” she mumbled sleepily, half-asleep as she claimed her space. your jaw dropped slightly.

you looked over at daeho. he was already smirking, silently laughing at the way your daughter had quite literally broken the two of you up in your own bed.

“this okay with you?” he whispered.

“do i have a choice?” you whispered back.

it was a phase, you figured.

…except it didn’t stop there.

one afternoon, you brought lunch to daeho in his home office. he was sitting behind his desk, laptop open, reading through something for work while seo-ah played with her dolls on the rug by the bookshelves.

“hey,” you said softly, setting the tray down beside him, “eat before your next meeting, okay?”

daeho glanced up, smiling wide, “thanks, love.”

he leaned over and gave you a kiss.

a harmless, married-people, soft, thank-you kind of kiss.

now cue the screaming child...

"no!" seo-ah yelled from the floor.

you both blinked.

"no kissing! you can’t do that!"

you stared at her, “sweetheart—”

“he’s my dad!”

your lips parted in shock as she stomped over, tiny fists clenched. she placed herself right in front of daeho like a little guard dog and glared up at you with betrayal written all over her face.

daeho gently tried to pull her into his lap, “hey, pumpkin, mommy’s allowed to kiss me.”

“no she’s not!” she huffed, tears welling in her eyes, “you're my dad!”

daeho looked at you with wide eyes, completely lost. you tried to stifle your laugh.

“okay,” you said carefully, “he is your daddy, but he’s also my husband, baby.”

“no!”

after that, anytime you tried to kiss daeho — even on the cheek — you had to scan the room first to see if you were being watched by a certain pair of pouty eyes.

it got to the point where you and daeho had to resort to sneaky hallway kisses or hand squeezes while she was watching cartoons.

yet, strangely enough, she was just as protective over you when she wanted to be.

one night, you were sitting on the couch, tired, sipping tea while daeho massaged your shoulders. you let out a quiet moan of relief, your head leaning back against his chest.

then, the thudding of tiny feet across the floor.

“appa!” seo-ah shouted as she ran into the living room.

“huh?” he turned his head, startled.

she pointed, “you can’t touch mommy!”

you blinked, “wait, what?”

“you can’t appa! only i can sit with her!”

“you said appa was yours yesterday!” daeho argued gently.

“she’s mine today!”

you laughed out loud as she squeezed herself up into your lap, placing herself right between you and your husband. the dramatics. the jealousy. the possessiveness. it was like she wanted to possess the both of you.

however, the inevitable happened when that possessiveness turned toward someone else entirely.

byeol.

now. your six-month-old baby girl had always been the softest bundle. calm, giggly, gentle and absolutely obsessed with her daddy. lately, whenever daeho picked her up, she would press her cheek to his shoulder and babble happily in baby squeals, so content in his arms.

you didn’t think much of it… until you saw the way seo-ah watched.

you noticed her pout deepen when daeho kissed byeol’s cheek.

you noticed the way her smile faded when he held her in his lap during her nap.

you noticed the way she whispered to her bunny in the hallway one day, “appa doesn’t hold me anymore.”

that was the moment it broke your heart and that’s when you knew you had to say something.

that night, while daeho was giving byeol her bath, you sat on the couch with seo-ah in your arms, cuddling her like you always did when she was your only baby.

"mommy?"

you brushed her hair back, “yeah, baby?”

“do you like byeol more?”

your heart twisted.

“no,” you said softly, “we already talked about this before seo-ah...i love you both the same.”

“but appa holds her all the time now,” she whispered.

you pulled her into your chest, hugging her tightly.

“you’re still his baby too,” you promised, “you’re his first baby. the one who made him a dad and the one who made me a mom.”

she sniffled, holding tighter.

“and you know what else?” you said, rocking her gently, “just because he holds byeol doesn’t mean he loves you any less. she’s still little, and she needs help with a lot of things. you’re a big girl now. but that doesn’t mean you’re not still our baby, okay?”

she nodded slowly.

“you’ll always be our big baby. the one who gave us our first everything.”

“even when i’m big?” she mumbled.

“even when you’re big.”

no matter how jealous she gets... she’s still just a little (almost) five year old girl, full of a big love.