#and i love that you have come around to the horror

[cosmica-galaxy]

I feel that this would turn stardew into a little bit of a horror game. Especially since he would probably show up there because of his "neighbor" living there, ae: the farmer. His events will probably be unsettling and a little disturbing, but never fully goes into horror territory. I have thought up a few things he may do while in stardew. +He will probably live in the community center, and it may come alive just like Home. (This is for those who think Wally/Home are the same entity...plus, it would be hilarious to see a community center home) +Unintentionally creeps out the townsfolk because they keep mentioning things that Wally does, like== ="That Wally fellow...he seems strange, doesn't he? I saw him staring at me from the dark while I was taking a night walk last night..." ="Be careful, Farmer. That Wally guy is a weirdo. I don't think I have ever seen him eat anything else other than fruit and when Gus offered him a burger....he just...glared at it." ="That newcomer Wally...I feel a strong negative energy surrounding him, but I can't explain why. I would be cautious, Farmer. That character is showing signs of being rather ominous." +Wally is the only person that doesn't have friendship decay or dislikes. He enjoys whatever you give him, no matter if it's a piece of junk or a diamond. His friendship can only go up and it will only go down if you get married to someone else in the town other than him. +Wally has no known "birthday". Instead, his "birthday" is on Spring 1st, the day you arrived in Stardew Valley. +If the Player dates and marries Wally, the community center will go back to normal...and the Player's house will come alive instead. +Wally will probably start out with max friendship, since you're supposed to be "best friends" with Wally. +If the joja route is picked instead of the community center route, the joja shop will come alive, Wally will become the owner, and the joja salesman will mysteriously disappear. Asking the townsfolk about him will only give you ominous messages like "What are you talking about? Wally has always been the owner of joja mart!". +Walking around after dark will have a chance to trigger a cutscene with Wally or show the more ominous side of him following you after dark, like the townsfolk said before. +If you are romancing Wally, other townsfolk will be slightly concerned that you are mingling with him, but won't prevent you from loving or marrying him. +Wally will send you gifts constantly into your mailbox. This could be just rocks, money, or even ores he has found. +Wally will paint on non-rainy days as his idle animation when he is out and about, however, he will still talk to you unlike other townfolk that get "engrossed" in their tasks that they ignore the farmer. +The option to divorce Wally is completely removed after the marriage event. Divorce becomes impossible and other routes will be locked from ever occurring. Trying to romance someone else will simply give you the message that "a force beyond your control makes you crush the bouquet in your hands". +If you return late at night, and if you're married to Wally, he can be seen standing in your shared bedroom, waiting for you to arrive. +The only towsnfolk not bothered by Wally are the children, The Dwarf, and Krobus. They don't seem to find him as scary or unsettling as the adults do. +Wally can take care of farming tasks and children are possible, and it's something he mentions a fair bit in passing, so he's a very decent husband. His section of the house is themed with art supplies and painting utensils. +Fainting in the mines while dating Wally will have him pick up the farmer instead and will heal you free of charge. Which makes him useful even before marriage. +Due to him having a high friendship at the start of the game, Wally can be married within a week of starting your game. Making all the townsfolk confused and uncertain of what happened between you both to get married so fast after moving to Stardew Valley. =--- Sorry for the mile long ramble. It's 4am.

Remember the time when I was trying to made stardew valley mode? I give up 📑 because I not the best coder haha, so here are the sprites that I made!

(Maybe I'll return to this mod in the summer? Not sure haha)

Why not you know(?)

[ja3yun]

The Sun that Always Burns | S.JY

chapter 1: beginnings

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), multiple sex scenes, protected sex, first times, oral (m&f. rec), fingering, throat fucking, angst, fluff, arguments and reconciliation,mentions of alcohol, they are tooth-rottingly in love with one another, pet names (baby, princess), strangers to lovers, anything else lmk! w.c: 29k synopsis: the day you met sim jaeyun was the beginning of your life truly starting. you share everything together, first date, first time, first fight, first love. you couldn't be happier....for now. a/n: hi! if you have ever read tstab then this will look very different from the first time, though, the plot remains almost identical to what it was before. thank you for all the support! i promise this is the longest chapter and the others will be significalty less so i hope the 29k doesn't put you guys off! also, i will warn you now, this series does have some morally-grey choices woven in and ynjake are not saints in any way so please bare that in mind when reading the upcoming chapters! as always, comments, feedback, and reblogs are all welcome <33

masterlist | chapter 2

The first time you meet Sim Jaeyun is on the number 18 bus, headed to your first day of high school. It’s August, the sun blazing in a cloudless sky. Little did you know that the brightest light wasn’t emanating from the burning star. 

The bus is busy, students new and old gracing the seats and aisles, and a sea of navy blue and black floods your vision. Then you spot it, a tiny seat at the back gone unnoticed. As you push your way to the back of the bus ignoring the disgruntled travellers cursing under their breath at your intrusion, you take a seat and huff a breath, victory curving slightly on your lips. 

You are observant of your surroundings, it’s one of the many traits you got from your mum. Not so observant as first thought, however, as you miss the way a certain boy beside you eyes you up and down, smiling fondly as his hot gaze takes you in. As the bus pulls up to your new school, people flocked to the tall, almost rustic building. The stones are yellow ash, letters missing from the sign that sits slanted above the entrance doors, and there are cracks on the pavement from neglect. 

You begin to wonder if this is a foresight into your academic career. Out of all the schools in Seoul, why did your parents pick this one?

“I heard it’s haunted on the third floor, y’know,” a voice echoes behind you, pulling you out of your trance. Twisting your head, you come face to face with a pretty boy, and suddenly, the sun seems to get warmer. “Hi,” his hand raises slightly to give a small wave, his head tilting to accompany a Cheshire grin spread so wide you can’t help but mirror it back to him. 

"Hi," you murmur, your voice barely steady as nerves creep up on you once again, the smile that reflected his now faltering. It’s partly the boy’s disarming presence, partly the weight of his words sinking in. You glance back at the building, the air around it now eerily heavy. “Is it really haunted? Because if it is, I’m not going anywhere near it.”

He shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Rumour has it there’s a girl on the third floor in the girls’ bathroom. A fox scratched out her eyes, and no one helped her. Now she haunts the place, looking for revenge. If you see her reflection and make eye contact…” He pauses, letting the silence stretch as he leans into you. “She’ll take yours, too.”

You shudder, your stomach twisting with horror. “Nope. Nope, absolutely not.” You start to retreat to the bus stop, determined to get as far away from the school and the fox girl as possible. But before you can get too far, he stops you, his hands firm but not forceful as he turns you back to face the building. The sun beats down, and you feel its heat more intensely, though it might just be the proximity of him behind you. His chuckle, low and soft, brushes against your ears.

“If you can face this place for one day, you can handle it for the next few years. Yeah?”

You stare at the school and throw the pros and cons of his words in your hands. He’s right in some capacity; if you get through today and face your fears, perhaps then everything won’t seem so daunting. Plus, how will you ever explain to your parents that you didn’t bother going to school because of an old ledged that a stranger told you in passing? They would laugh and then drag you into the old building themselves.

With a little hesitation, you look at the boy for some reassurance - and there it is. His plump smile and warm, encouraging eyes do everything to settle the unease in your chest. He is so ethereal, with his tanned skin, thick nose, and bright eyes. You’ve never seen a boy look so���perfect. Even in a slightly creased navy polo and baggy beige trousers, he somehow looks like a teen heartthrob.

Catching yourself staring at him, you shake your head and inhale a deep breath to settle the remnants of your apprehensions. You can do this Y/N. Ghost or not. 

What you don’t realise is that the story isn’t even real. It’s something he has made up on the spot. He doesn’t know why but he just needed a reason to speak to you. There’s a glow about you, he saw it on the bus as you stared out the window in awe at the scenery. Once he clocked that you were standing transfixed with hesitation, he took his shot. 

Granted, there may have been a better way to grab your attention than telling you a story about an eye-scratching ghost, but it was the perfect excuse to get close to you. Next time, he’ll tell you a nice story about a friendly ghost in the first-floor bathroom who gifts sweeties and tampons upon arrival.

“Y/N,” you say quietly, introducing yourself and drawing him back to the present.

His eyes, warm and curious, meet yours. “Jaeyun. Or Jake, if you prefer.” He grins again, though this time a little more sheepishly, scratching his forearm. 

You finally take him in - his dark hair, slightly tousled; his thoughtful eyes; the way his lips curl into a subtle pout as the silence envelopes you both. He studies you just as intently, and for the first time, you feel truly seen.

That day, the sun wasn’t the only thing that warmed your cheeks.

As the day unfolds, you learn so much about him. He loves football with a passion that lights up his face. He’s so smart that it catches you off guard, and creative in ways that inspire you to try new things and find a light of your own. He adores his blonde loyal dog, Layla, more than anything in the world. And although he hates being scared, he can’t resist the thrill of haunted houses. 

By lunchtime, he’s your best friend, and it feels like he always has been.

The weeks that follow teach you everything else about Jaeyun. You notice how he bites his lip when he’s thinking or flustered, how his fingers habitually comb through his hair. His eyes widen with excitement and he gets a soft twinkle in them that resembles stars in the midnight sky, and even more when curiosity takes hold. When he smiles wide enough, his gums show, and it’s so unguarded, so him, that it makes your chest tighten. You notice all these little things, the details that most people might miss. 

By Christmas, he’s become your first love.

But you never tell him. Why would you? Why risk ruining something so beautiful when you’re convinced he doesn’t feel the same? For a while, you think maybe he does, that there is a spect of hope of something more than just being best friends. But then you catch him flirting with the class rep one too many times and your hope crumbles. It makes you tuck your feelings away, sharing them only with the moon as you lie awake at night, pondering what could be. 

The truth, though, is much different than you think. His playful teasing with the class rep, the touch of his hand on her arm - none of it means what you imagine. Those moments are nothing more than Jaeyun’s natural warmth, his easy way of making people feel seen and listened to.

What you fail to see is how he treats you compared to others. While you work yourself up about his passive flirting with others, you miss the way his hand lingers on your thigh as he laughs at your terrible jokes, or the way his head leans against your shoulder even when he’s wide awake, just because he wants to be as close to you as humanly possible. 

You overlook how his fingers absentmindedly stroke your hair while you’re talking to someone else, craving your presence even when he’s surrounded by a dozen others. You miss how his hugs linger just a little longer, tracing his fingers along your spine with his eyes closed like he’s memorising the feel of you until he can hold you again. And you don’t notice the mushrooms he always takes from your pizza, already knowing you hate the texture.

All these quiet, unspoken gestures of care - so clear, so telling - slip past you, just like his lingering gaze did on the first day.

_

Before you realise it, a year has flown by, and you and Jaeyun are inseparable. There isn’t a moment you’re not by his side or at least texting him, sharing every little thought and detail of your lives. You’ve never been happier. Your crush on him lingers, still strong but carefully restrained, tucked away where it can’t harm the bond you’ve built. He’s like a constrictor knot, holding you close through everything, keeping you afloat. The last thing you want is to unravel it with something as fragile and messy as unrequited love.

While you feel content, Jaeyun is quietly begrudging. Tonight, you have a date - with someone who isn’t him. It’s become a pattern since you turned sixteen. You meet someone, believe they might be the one, and when it inevitably falls apart, you cry to Jaeyun, convinced you’re unlovable. To you, it’s just teenage naivety, silly and fleeting. To him, it’s a slow ache that twists deeper each time.

There is nothing Jaeyun wants more than to treat you the way you deserve. All those boys you date don’t hold even a match to you. You shine so brightly that you might as well be a massive neon sign in the pitch darkness and they’re just soaking up your rays, dimming you as you run out of battery.

Still, Jaeyun helps you. He always does.  And tonight, he helps you pick out a dress, one that makes you look as though you’re the only girl in the world. His only girl. The pink sundress fits perfectly, flowing gently around your frame. 

Should he consider giving you terrible recommendations to make you look unappealing? Suggest wearing a pair of his sweatpants and the food stained tshirt you like to wear when you’re lazing about in his room? He would, of course he would, but the problem is you.

You look fucking beautiful in everything you wear; doesn’t matter if it’s a beautiful dress or the comfiest Sunday lounge wear, you look like an angel in it all, and unfortunately every man can see that too - even sixteen year old boys who don’t know how to handle you the way you deserve.

“Is this okay?” you ask, turning to the mirror as you scrutinizing and overanalyse your reflection. You’re not delusional - you know you’re not the prettiest girl in the world. But in moments like this, you just hope to look good enough.

Jaeyun watches you, noticing how your gaze lingers a little too long on your insecurities, the way your lips press together in doubt. It’s not the first time he’s noticed this - how the dates and rejections are wearing you down, little by little. And he hates it.

He steps closer, his presence solid behind you. “You look like a princess,” he says softly, his voice unwavering. “One any man would go to war for. Please never forget that.”

You pause, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone, and the way each word kisses your chest. The sunlight spills over you as you turn to him. “Be serious, Jake,” you scoff, a touch of irritation in your voice. “Can you just be serious for once?”

But he is serious. He’s never been more serious.

And then, like a sudden blow, it hits him - you don’t believe him. You never have.

For a year, Jaeyun has seen you, every single version of you: the confident you, the self-doubting you, the you in every shade of lipstick, every dress, every blush. He’s memorised the way you move, the way you smile, the way you try to hold yourself together even when you feel like falling apart. To him, every version of you is perfect. 

He is borderline obsessed with you and he just wishes - no, begs - you to see how breathtaking you truly are. Angels come from heaven and tour earth just to catch a glimpse of someone as ethereal as you.

“I am serious,” he says firmly, his hands finding your shoulders, holding you steady - just like he did on the first day you met. His eyes search yours in the mirror, his voice low but resolute. “You look fucking beautiful.”

But the words don’t land the way he hopes. You tut dismissively, breaking the moment. “Yeah, well, if I were, I’d have a boyfriend by now, wouldn’t I?”

The words sting, sharp and cutting. Jaeyun feels something deep and visceral rise in his chest - an urge to yell, to shake you out of this cruel narrative you’ve built for yourself. To dispel and dismantle every horrible thought you have about yourself. But before he can find the words to truly hammer his sincerity into you, your phone buzzes.

You pick it up, slipping from his grasp. His hands fall empty at his sides as he watches you, frozen in place. You glance at the screen, a small smile forming. “Mark’s here. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

You hug him quickly, a fleeting gesture that feels too light, too thin to hold him together. Then you’re gone, descending the stairs, leaving him standing there, staring at the mirror.

He doesn’t move. The sun dips lower, overtaken by thick clouds, and as the sky fades into night, Jaeyun stands in the quiet, a hollow ache spreading through him.

He wonders if maybe, just maybe, he’s not enough - not for you.

The moon rises, casting pale light over a boy who feels more like a shadow.

_____

“This is so nice,” you comment as you glace around the diner Mark has taken you to. It’s not particularly fancy or romantic - just a small local spot with red vinyl booths and flickering fluorescent lights. But it’s fine. You’re teenagers, after all. Neither of you has the budget or the means to splurge on a five-star restaurant, so this is…nice, you suppose.

But it feels even nicer because you’re sitting across from Mark Lee - the most popular boy in school. When he asked you out, it felt like the world shifted slightly on its axis. You’d barely known he was aware of your existence let alone interested in taking you out on a date. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen. Wanted, even.

Of course, you know better than to let male attention dictate your self-worth. You’ve been trying to unlearn that instinct, slowly watering the feminist flower bud that you’ve been cultivating inside your chest. But tonight, that budding awareness is eclipsed by the thrill of being here, across from Mark fucking Lee.

He leans back in the booth, one arm draped casually over the top of the seat, not giving you a second glance. “Yeah, I guess it’s alright,” he says casually, glancing at the menu like he can’t wait to get this over with. His tone isn’t exactly dismissive but it’s not enthusiastic either. You chalk it up to nerves or that he’s trying to ‘play it cool’, kind of like Danny Zuko in Grease when he doesn’t want his friends to know that he is excited to see Sandy again. 

And although you scream at Danny everytime the scene comes on, wishing Sandy took that as her warning to never speak to the loser again, you let it slide with Mark.

“I like it,” you offer again, trying to fill the silence. “It feels cozy. Like something out of an old movie, y’know those ones from the 60s?”

Mark raises an eyebrow, smirking faintly but not exactly intrigued. “You’re one of those artsy types, huh?”

The comment lands awkwardly, but you laugh anyway, brushing it off. “Maybe a little. I just think it has charm, you know?” So does Jaeyun, you think to yourself, suddenly missing his presence beside you. 

“Sure,” he says, but he’s already looking past you, his attention pulled by something - or rather someone - near the counter.

You follow his gaze, but there’s nothing remarkable in the direction he’s staring. Just a couple of kids from school picking up takeout. One of them is Sojung, the girl every man wants to date and all the girls want to look like. It’s almost laughable how much this entire scenario feels like a stereotypical American high school movie. 

As Sojung waves to your date, a faint unease settles in your chest, but you push it aside.

The waitress arrives, setting down two glasses of water and taking your orders. Mark orders a burger and fries without looking up from his phone, and when it’s your turn, interjects, saying you’ll have the same, not letting you speak for yourself. 

You hate burgers, they’re gross and you’re borderline vegetarian, but he doesn’t know that. In fact, he hasn’t even asked you one thing since you’ve sat down. He doesn’t know you and you would think if you’re on a date, now would be the perfect time for him to question you about your likes and dislikes? Fuck, even if he asked you your favourite colour right now it would at least be something.

“So,” you begin, trying to stir up a semblance of conversation, “how’s soccer going? I heard you scored the winning goal last week.”

He grins, finally looking at you. “Yeah, that was fucking sick. Everyone went crazy, obviously. Coach even said it was one of the best plays he’s seen.” His tone is smug, pride and arrogance beaming over his face.

“That’s amazing!” you exclaim, genuinely impressed. Jaeyun plays football too but he’s defensive midfielder so he doesn’t get many opportunities to play a goal. Mark being the striker means he gets seen as the star player even though sometimes you do think Jaeyun is slightly better. “You must’ve been on top of the world, huh?”

“I mean, yeah,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly, going back to his previous lounge position, conversation inconvenient to him once again. “But, like, it’s not a surprise, y’know? When you’re good at something, people expect you to deliver. And I always deliver.”

You nod, unsure how to respond. His confidence borders on arrogance, but you tell yourself it’s part of his charm. After all, confidence is attractive, right? Jaeyun is confident, and he’s hot…so, so hot-

Before your brain goes down a dangerous path, the food arrives. The chips are perfectly crispy and you nibble at them slowly, hoping he wont notice that you’re not even entertaining the stacked burger. You wonder if you can box it up for Jaeyun.

For a while, the conversation flows a little more easily. Mark talks about soccer, his plans for college, and his favourite music. You listen intently, asking questions and laughing at his jokes, even when they’re not particularly funny or slightly rude.

But as the night wears on, cracks begin to show, suddenly finding it more difficult to see the good in him and the evening.

When you mention a book you’ve been reading, his eyes glaze over, almost rolling. “Not really my thing,” he says dismissively, cutting you off mid-sentence. You didn’t even got the author’s name out of your mouth. He doesn’t care. If it’s not about him, he could not be less bothered in paying attention.

But again, foolishly, you try to get him talking and make this dress worth it. You ask about his family, trying to get to know the man a little deeper. Yet, he shrugs. “They’re fine, I guess. Nothing exciting.”

Still nothing. Who doesn’t like to talk about their family? Good or bad.

You try to keep the conversation light, but his responses grow shorter, his attention drifting to literally anywhere but you. He checks his phone a few times, typing out quick replies to someone from under the table. You wonder who he’s texting but don’t dare ask, not wishing to upset him when it seems you’re already hanging onto him by a thread.

By the time the waitress brings the check, which you split, you’re doing most of the heavy lifting in the conversation, trying to keep things pleasant. You tell yourself he’s just tired or distracted, that he’s not really this disinterested. You’re delusioning yourself because how many dates do you have to go on before anyone actually gives a single fuck about you or wants to be here with you.

You don’t understand how these boys can ask to date you, then be so cold and distant when you agree. Granted, you aren’t exactly picking them well. They started off as dating anyone to distract you from your feelings towards your best friend, but now you’ve been more selective, and Mark was one boy you really wanted to have a connection with.

He’s funny and charming in school, kind and generous to teachers and those in the years below him. Of course, that’s why he is popular. But this boy in front of you is not the Mark you thought you knew. Even Jaeyun says nice things about him, being on the same team and all.

“Thanks for dinner,” you say as you step out of the diner, the cool evening air brushing against your warm skin. 

“No problem,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks at you a little more intently than any other time this evening. “So, what now?”

The question hangs in the air, loaded with implications. You glance at him, unsure of what he means. You for sure thought that he was going to drive you home and that would be the end of it. He obviously isn’t interested, so why would he wish to continue the night?

“I don’t know,” you say cautiously. “I should probably head home. It’s getting late.” It’s the politest way to tell him that you don’t want to have to keep conversations going that are drier than the dessert during a wind storm.

Mark smirks, stepping closer. “Or…”, he places a hand on your waist as he steps closer, his presence now overwhelming all of your senses, and not in the nice way that Jaeyun’s were earlier. “We could hang out somewhere more private.”

Your stomach twists uncomfortably, stomach dropping as his face inches towards yours. “Private?” you echo, trying to keep your tone light, feigning ignorance.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low, dangerous. “My place is empty tonight. We could…you know, have some fun.” Marks eyebrows wiggle and you feel a dizzy. 

You’re heart and mind is screaming for Jaeyun.

The meaning is clear and it sends a jolt of panic through you. You’re not naive - you knew this was a possibility, but hearing him say it so casually feels jarring. It’s not like you gave him any hints that you’re down to fuck on a first date. You’ve never even fucked anyone at all, so the last thing you want is to lose it to a man who barely remembers your name.

“Mark, I don’t think-”

“Come on, lovely,” he interrupts, his tone shifting to something a little more foreceful. “It’s not a big deal. We’re both here, we’re both into each other, right?”

No. I’m not. We are not.

You take a step back, your heart pounding. “I just…I’m not ready for that, y’know? I don’t…do that.”

He exhales sharply, his smile faltering and shoulders tensing as he begins to feel the rejection wash over his body. Clearly, he’s not used to such a thing. “Seriously? You’re not one of those girls, are you? Haven’t you been on like a million and one dates?” His words spit across your cheek like you’ve just been slapped. “Not one of those guys has managed ti hit it?”

The question rocks you and for a moment, you’re too stunned to respond. Is that why he asked you out? Just for a quick fuck? This happened once before, with a guy from band but at least he made his intentions clear as soon as the date started and he left you alone once he knew you weren’t going to lay on his navy sheets.

“I think I should go,” you say finally, your voice shaking as you step back from him. 

Mark rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he follows your steps. “You’re for real a fucking virgin? You’re not playing?” You don’t know why he doesn’t believe you and it makes you wonder about the rumours echoing in the hallways of your school. “So I just wasted my fucking time?”

It’s poetically ironic how he is finally asking you questions about yourself. But this isn’t exactly what you wanted. This is belittling, as if being a virgin is anything to be ashamed of. You don’t really care about your virginity, you just want to have sex with someone who loves you, or at least could give a single fuck about your existance. Clealry, two things he doesn’t possess in his heart for you.

He doesn’t wait for a response, turning and walking off without a backward glance. “Whatever, man. Don’t fucking lead guys on like that.” He laughs bitterly before getting into his car and driving off without you, leaving you stranded and hurt. 

You stand there for a moment, the night pressing in around you. A cold, hollow ache has replaced the warmth and excitement you felt earlier. Is this all you’re worth?

As you make your way home, you replay the evening in your mind, trying to find something good to hold onto. But it’s hard. Mark wasn’t who you thought he was, and you can’t help but feel foolish for ever thinking otherwise. Part of you wonders if you should have just given in, went to his place and fucked him to get all of this over with. 

But that’s not you and that is not how you should think. You are not defined by your sexual experience and Mark should see the person you are past your body and what it can offer him. You are a real person who wanted to get to know him, understand him and if all went well, get into a relationship with him.

Since when was that so wrong?

Your mind turns and twists with thoughts, a mixture of relief and sadness swirling your insides as you begin the long walk home, desperate to see the one boy who can make this all better.

_____

It’s 9pm now and Jaeyun hasn’t heard a word from you. Not a text to say it’s going well or one to say you’re home. He begins to imagine the worst; kidnapping, death, falling down a ditch, a Scooby-Doo villain coming to snatch you from Mark’s arms. His worries are not unprecedented - you’re always back by 8 pm latest, knowing that your family don’t like you out late. So he texts you, trying to come across as casual and not like a possessive best friend who jumped to worst-case scenarios.

Jaeyun: Y/N, are you okay? Did everything go well? Text me when you can

An incoming call flashes on his phone almost immediately after he presses sends. Princess. You don’t know that’s your name on his phone, but for some reason having just your name feels insincere and distant. Jaeyun doesn’t like that feeling, plus, it gives him a second of delusion.

He clicks the answer button and is immediately met with your shaky voice, the effects of being out of breath and stranded in the cold.

“Jaeyun?” you ask as if you didn’t hit the call button yourself. You were in the middle of writing a message when he sent one instead. 

Jaeyun’s heart sinks at the sound of your voice. Shaky, uncertain, and laced with something he can’t quite place - fear? Sadness? Either way, it’s not good, and his grip on the phone tightens as he sits up in his bed, alert and alarmed. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Where are you?” His words come out rushed, his mind racing as he hears the faint rustles of cars and the wind crackle through your receiver. It means you aren’t home and are in high chance of being in danger. Maybe he was right to worry after all.

There’s a pause on your end, long enough to make his chest tighten. Then, you exhale shakily. “I…I’m fine,” you start, but the tremor in your voice betrays you. “I’m just…not where I want to be right now.” You want to be beside him.

He glances at the clock. 9:03pm and his knee begins to bounce with restless energy as he tries to piece together what’s happening. “Are you still with Mark?”

“No,” you say quickly, almost too quickly. “I- He left a while ago.” Another pause, and then a bitter laugh escapes you. “He ditched me after possibly one of the worst dates of my life.”

Jaeyun’s chest floods with relief at the fact Mark is away from you. Although you’re alone and that sets unease into the pit of his stomach, there’s reassurance with the fact that you’re not with the striker. Mark is a nice guy - as far as Jaeyun knows - but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still cautious about the boy. He is still a man after all.

“Are you walking? Y/N, it’s late, and it’s fucking freezing. Why didn’t you call me sooner?” Jaeyun immediately stands to attention and grabs his jacket, already anticipating that he will be running to wherever you are.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you admit softly, and the words hit him harder than he expects. 

“Bother me?” he echoes, already grabbing his keys and slipping on his shoes. “Y/N, you could never bother me. Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

“Jaeyun, you don’t have to-”

“Don’t argue,” he cuts you off firmly, his voice leaving no room for debate. “Just stay put, okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes. Send me your location, yeah?”

You don’t reply, but the faint sound of your sniffle on the other end makes his chest ache. “Okay,” you finally whisper, and he can hear the gratitude in your voice. You really didn’t want to disturb him, but if you can’t turn to him, who can you run to? 

It’s selfish, but you need him.

He hangs up, shoving his phone into his pocket and bolting out the door. The cold night air hits him and it only enrages him more; how could Mark leave you like this? Shaking the thoughts away, he focuses his mind on what matters right now. You. Finding you and making sure you’re okay. He can deal with Mark another day.

And trust that he will.

—

The sharpness of the wind cuts through your thin jacket as you drag your feet along the pavement, your arms tightly crossed over your chest. Anger and sadness bubble and twirl inside of you, fueling your steps and helping to keep the cold at bay. Adrenaline acts as an electric blanket under your skin and for the first time in your life, you’re thankful that your body gets overly attached to your emotions.

Then you hear it.

“Y/N!”

That familiar, sweet Australian accent drifts through the night as it dances past the whistle of the wind, laced with a mix of relief and frustration. You glance up to see Jaeyun running toward you, his breath visible in the frosty air. There’s a small smile on his face, but you can see right through it, of course you can; you’ve known him long enough to recognise the worry etched into his features, the simmering anger in his eyes.

Your legs instinctively quicken and as he gets closer, you feel the tension in your body begin to dissolve. By the time you meet him halfway, your arms are already reaching for him, and he’s there - steady, warm, and exactly what you need.

Jaeyun wraps his arms around you without hesitation, pulling you close. His hoodie smells faintly of laundry detergent and that musk that is so distinctly him. His embrace is firm, possessive, and impossibly comforting. The heat of his body seeps into you, melting the ice that had taken root in your chest.

“What the fuck were you thinking walking out here alone?” he murmurs, his voice gentle but laced with exasperation. His hands rub up and down your back, trying to chase away the cold. “It’s freezing, Y/N. And dark, you don’t know who is lurking in the shadows.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “I couldn’t stay there and I didn’t want to have you catch a bus all the way into the main city.”

Jaeyun’s arms tighten around you, and he lets out a soft sigh. “You should’ve called me. I would have gotten a taxi and come to pick you up or got Jay to drive me. He’s got his permit now.”

You simply look down, ashamed that he even had to come to your rescue in the first place. You would say you’re quite independent, so to rely on him so much feels shameful all of a sudden. It’s different when it’s a slight inconvenience, you don’t mind pestering him to come help you with homework or to go shopping with you. But this is pulling him out to come save you. That’s embarrassing…Perhaps you shouldn’t have called.

But you need him. Only him. 

Jaeyun studies you for a moment, his eyes softening as he takes in your flushed cheeks and trembling frame, the cogs in your mind working overtime with little payoff. “Here,” he says, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. The warmth is immediate, and the scent of him envelops you completely. “Better?”

You nod again, clutching the fabric tightly around you. “Yeah,” you bite your lip, the burning in the back of your throat raw and overwhelming. 

He tilts his head toward the direction of your house, noting how you’re two seconds away from bursting into hysterical tears. “Come on, let’s get you home, Y/N. Your mum’s probably worried.”

Nodding, you let him take your hand as you fall into step beside him, the sound of your footsteps filling the quiet night. Even this simple touch instils some peace into your overworked body. You still can’t get over Mark and his comments, his expectations of you to just drop your pants and let him…

“I thought he liked me,” you say softly, your voice tinged with bitterness and hurt. 

Jaeyun’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he lets out a slow breath before speaking, making sure he doesn’t say something he regrets. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Really. I know how excited you were about tonight. But just think about the bullet you dodged, yeah?”

You stare down at the pavement, his words sinking in. “I just…I thought he was different,” you admit, your breath fogging up in the cold air. “But he wasn’t even listening to me. And then he…” You trail off, not wanting to say the rest out loud.

Your trail off causes Jaeyun to pause his steps, his hand squeezing yours tightly to halt your own feet. “What do you mean? What the fuck did he do?” Jaeyun doesn’t get angry. The only instance you’ve ever seen him get mad was on the pitch after he received a red card and got subbed. 

But this is also a different kind of rage, it’s more abrupt and sudden. His eyes search yours to make sure anything you tell him in the next few minutes isn’t a lie to protect Mark or downplay anything that happened tonight. 

Seeing his rage begin to build, you shake your head vigorously. “No! No, no, nothing like that I promise,” you bite your lips together. “He wanted to, but I told him no.”

“What a fucking cu-”

“Jaeyun, it’s okay. He didn’t force anything but he was pretty pissed,” you further explain, hoping the heaving in his chest subsides. Jaeyun isn’t violent but you can see a lust for blood as his mind spirals.

“I should kill him,” he begins, stepping closer to you. “You deserve way better than that. So much fucking better, Y/N.”

A bitter laugh escapes you, sharp and self-deprecating. It feels like every ounce of doubt you’ve tried to bury is clawing its way out. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m just not-”

“Don’t.” His voice cuts through your words with a finality that makes you stop. The intensity in his gaze is unyielding as he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, as if tethering you to the truth he wants you to believe. “Don’t say that. You’re amazing, Y/N. And if some guy can’t see that, then that’s his loss. Not yours. Who gives a fuck if it’s Mark Lee or Mark Henry?”

The unexpected humour in his words pulls a reluctant laugh from you, easing some of the tension knotting your chest. He always seems to know just the right thing to say. You envy him for that, and adore him all the same.

“You deserve someone who wants to be with you with zero expectations,” he continues, his voice soft but firm, willing you to understand his point of view. “Got it?”

You manage a faint smile, but the weight of his words settles heavily in your throat, forming a lump you can’t quite swallow. He means every syllable - you can hear it in his voice, see it in the conviction in his eyes. Yet, no matter how much you want to believe him, these part few months of disappointment and hurt have left you too bruised to take it to heart. His words sound like a lie whispered into the wind. 

“Why can’t I just find someone to love me?” you murmur, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even yourself.

At that, Jaeyun’s hand loosens from yours, the reassuring warmth slipping away. His entire demeanour shifts, and when you glance up at him, his eyes are no longer fierce with determination. Instead, they glaze over with something raw and unspoken, a sheen of unshed tears.

“Jaeyun…what’s wrong?” you ask, your voice tentative as you try to piece together what’s happening. He doesn’t usually switch emotions so easily, so randomly. Honestly, you were expecting him to tell you to shut up and behave yourself, the way he sometimes does dismissively to stop you talking about being unlikable. He doesn’t wave it off cruelly, but rather because he knows you’ll just overthink and get even more upset.

Little do you know he just does it to protect himself. The thought of you with anyone else enough to spiral him into despair for at least two days.

He exhales shakily as the weigh of his feelings becomes too difficult to shoulder. “Am I not enough?” he whispers, his voice barely audible, carried to your ears only by the breath of the night air. The desperation in his tone sends a jolt through you, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“What…?” you begin, confused, the pieces of the puzzle slipping through your fingers.

“Why is it never me you choose?” he continues, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “Why is it always everyone and anyone else? Why can’t it ever just fucking be me?”

His jaw clenches as a single tear escapes, tracing a glistening path down his cheek. It’s a rare sight, his sadness, usually so determined to bottle it all away and deal with the consequences once it gets too much. And that seems to be tonight. They’re spilling over, months of buried feelings breaking free. He doesn’t mean for the words to sound bitter, but they do, tinged with exhaustion and a quiet plea for understanding.

You’re stunned, stuck to the spot as his confession echoes through you. It’s as though the air has been sucked from your lungs, leaving you grasping for clarity amidst the absolute carnage of your mind. He inhales deeply, trying to steady himself yet the silence that stretches between you is deafening, making him that much more self-conscious.

You know you need to respond, to say something, but the words catch in your throat, refusing to come. 

Jaeyun mistakes your silence for rejection. His shoulders slump further, and he looks away, his gaze falling to the ground. “I…I shouldn’t have said anything. I…” His voice trails off, broken, as he takes a step back.

“Jaeyun,” you manage as your voice comes out as a whisper. He doesn’t look at you, already gearing himself to lose you forever. After all, how many times does this happen? The guy ruins a friendship with a girl because they’re unable to just keep things platonic. It’s not like he wanted to develop these feelings, but you’re his true love and he knows it deep down, that’s why this hurts so much.

He would rather have you in his life as a friend than not at all, and he might have just royally fucked that up.

“Jaeyun, please. Look at me.” When he doesn’t respond, you step closer, your voice firmer this time. “What are you saying?” When he finally glances up, the anguish in his eyes steals your breath. 

It’s not or never, Jake. Might as well go all in, he encourages himself despite his doubts.

“You give everyone else your time, your attention. You put on those cute dresses for guys who don’t even deserve to look at you. I’m not saying I even deserve the honour of looking at you, but…” His voice falters as he struggles to find the right words. Then, with a renewed intensity, he meets your gaze. “Can’t I at least get a chance to prove that might?”

There’s a quiet longing in his expression, an innocent yearning for something real and pure. The sight of his tears, the jagged edge to his breathing, the raw vulnerability he’s showing you now - it’s overwhelming for both of you. Your heart aches for him, for the boy who’s always been there, quietly waiting for something you never realised was possible.

Jaeyun likes you.

Without hesitation, your hands reach for him, cupping his face gently. You wipe the stray tears from his cheeks, the warmth of his anguish a contrast to the cold breeze that washes over you both.

“Sim Jaeyun,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you pluck the courage to tell him your feelings. It’s only right to lay yourself bare just as he has. “You are everything I have ever wanted.”

The truth spills from your lips like a revelation, as clear and beautiful as the moonlight bathing the two of you in light. You’ve never told him why those dates never worked out. Mark may have been a particular kind of awful, but the others? The others failed simply because they weren’t him. They weren’t Jaeyun. With every small gesture he made, every thoughtful word he spoke, he set a standard no one else could meet. And you compared them all to him, unknowingly sabotaging every potential chance of getting a boyfriend because they fell short of the boy standing before you now. 

“I didn’t think I was an option for you,” you admit, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your honest emotions. “So I kept looking for someone who wanted me back. But none of them were you.” The last words are barely audible, but the quiet of the night amplifies them like a shout.

Jaeyun’s breath catches, and he feels the tightness in his chest ease for the first time in what feels like forever. He can’t speak, doesn’t trust himself to find the right words, so instead, he pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on your shoulder, one hand gripping your waist while the other finds its way into your hair, holding you close. Disbelief and shock course through his veins at your confession, so he clings to you tighter, scared that he might wake up.

Because in what world does Y/N L/N like him back? Since when? How? Why?

“You’re so stupid,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your shoulder. The words make him wince as soon as they’re out but you thankfully laugh softly, not taking them too harshly to heart. When he pulls back, his hand moves to your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin as he searches your eyes for something - permission, perhaps, or reassurance.

And then you kiss him, giving him everything he could want within this moment.

It’s soft and a little apprehensive, your lips barely moving against his. But it’s enough. Enough to convey your deep thoughts, enough to make the world fade away until it’s just the two of you. The air around you feels warmer as if the moon has been replaced with the blazing sun.

The kiss is so sweet and innocent, your mouths telling each other all the times you missed out on confessing, each time that the words of your feelings reached the tip of your tongues. You slowly lick his bottom lip and he groans, finally snapping out of his trance and pulling you impossibly closer by your waist as his tongue caresses yours.

From the very moment your lips meld with his, Jaeyun shares every first with you. 

—

The next day carries a completely different energy, a newness in the air that’s almost tangible. Everything feels brighter, saturation turned up 100%, as if hope has stitched itself into the fabric of your life. It could be the overwhelming joy of finally being with Jaeyun after all this time. It feels surreal like a fever dream you’re afraid to wake from, having lived so long in the liminal space between delusion and denial.

But Sim Jaeyun is yours - officially yours. You wonder if you’ve ever jacked off a leprechaun in a past life with how impossibly lucky you’ve gotten.

Walking into school together that morning, you hold his hand. Jaeyun has taken your hand plenty of times before, but this is different. This time, his fingers weave through yours with quiet confidence, declaring to the world that you are his. His love. It sends a thrill through you, enough to plant a shit-eating grin on your face so wide it feels permanent, as if even the toughest mix of Pink Stuff and a Scrub Daddy couldn’t remove it.

At first, no one notices the shift in your relationship; you’ve always been inseparable and clingy. But when Jaeyun kisses you so tenderly outside your first period maths class, it catches people’s attention. Whispers ripple through the hallways: "Finally" and "Weren’t they already dating?" follow you both throughout the day. Jaeyun doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he takes every opportunity to kiss you - soft, fleeting pecks on your cheeks, your forehead, your lips, anywhere that he can land his mouth on you, trying to make up for all the times he wanted to but didn’t.

All those sleepovers when he stayed awake, watching you sleep peacefully beside him - he didn’t kiss you. The times you edged closer to him at the cinema during scary or tense moments - he didn’t kiss you. Even at family gatherings, when it was just the two of you swaying on the dance floor as your drunk aunts and his uncles disappeared into the night - he held back. Now, though, he doesn’t have to. And he won’t let his lips forget the feeling of yours.

“Go on a date with me,” Jaeyun says suddenly, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Pausing outside of your physics class - his favourite subject but arguably your least - you look up at him, curiosity tilting your head. “A date?” Your fingers remain interlocked with his, and you begin to swing them gently back and forth. Your heart flutters at the idea of a date with Jaeyun, one where you don’t feel the pressure to impress because he already adores you just as you are. He’s made that abundantly clear. “When?”

“Tomorrow. There’s an outdoor cinema that just opened, and they’re showing ‘Labyrinth.’” His eyes sparkle knowingly as he mentions your favourite film. “I already bought the tickets, so you have no choice but to come with me.” He seals the deal with a kiss on your forehead.

While the gesture makes you smile, your brow furrows. “But you hate ‘Labyrinth.’ You said it’s too weird that David Bowie is trying to seduce a teenager.”

The first time you showed him the 1986 classic, he had been eager to dive into your favourite fantasy world. However, that enthusiasm evaporated quickly, replaced by incredulity at the abundance of crotch-shots and bizarre farting bog. Suffice to say, he didn’t share your affection for it.

“True,” he admits, his lips curling into a sly smile, “but it’s your favourite movie. And as your boyfriend, I think I can look past the unnecessary bulges and questionable age gaps for you.”

Your head tilts in amused disbelief. “You know they don’t actually date, right? He’s just infatuated with her innocence.” You pause, and then it hits you. “Oh...okay, now I see what you mean.”

He laughs at your realisation, the sound bright and unguarded - the kind of laugh that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Well,” he says, his voice softer now, “this time, you can watch it with fresh eyes.” He kisses you again, his lips lingering against yours as he whispers, “So, come with me?”

It doesn’t take you a second before you nod, pecking his lips in return as a definite sign of agreeance. “You’ve ruined my favourite movie for me, but since it’s you, I’ll allow it.”

“Good. The tickets are nonrefundable.” He pulls you into his arms, laughing as your head rests against his chest. You feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, fast but comforting. The same heart that holds a space for you inside of it.

This - this is what you love. How nothing between you has really changed. Emotions have simply heightened, blossoming into something more profound. Jaeyun is still Jaeyun, but now he’s yours. The shackles of both of you keeping your feelings buried held you back from all of this love, all this time you could have just been with one another unapologetically. No guilt about feelings or potentially ruining your friendship, now it’s freedom. 

“I’ve got practice,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at you, warmth blushes over his cheeks as he sees the adoration for him in your pupils. “I’ll text you when it’s over and we can walk home.” He kisses you for the nth time, his gaze lingering. “Don’t miss me too much, baby.”

The unexpected pet name turns your cheeks crimson, and you swat his chest playfully, still not sure how to handle the giddiness in your chest every time he does something slightly romantic. “I think it’s more likely you’ll be the one missing me.”

“I always do,” he replies without hesitation, his voice rich with sincerity. 

_____

As the day of your first date approaches, anticipation bubbles in your stomach. Thirty minutes - just thirty minutes stand between you and an entirely new chapter with Jaeyun. Your nerves tangle as you try to steady your breathing, your mind racing. You’ve been on dates before, but there was always the comfort of reminding yourself, At least it’s not Jaeyun.

But now it is Jaeyun. And that changes everything.

The sundress you spent hours picking out suddenly feels wrong. What if he doesn’t like it? What if you look frumpy when you sit down? The issue with going on a date with Jaeyun and not some random boy is that you can’t ask his opinion on your outfit. He always helped you out and now when it matters most, you need to decide for yourself and trust yourself. Not very fair.

You stand in front of the mirror, scrutinising every possible angle he could see you from, tugging at the hem, twisting this way and that to see which lines and folds are more prominent than others. Jaeyun has seen you in every state - from sleep-deprived to sick - and he’s never batted an eye. It couldn’t be worse than that, right? But somehow, those thoughts don’t ease your anxiety. 

Just as the golden sun begins to flood through your window, a firm knock echoes from the front door. You cast one last glance over yourself in the mirror, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles before a final spritz of perfume. Jaeyun’s favourite is something light and citrus, he says it makes everything feel effortless, and that’s exactly what you need this first date to be. 

Another knock follows, this time a little sharper. You dart down the stairs, your heart pounding, and open the door in a hurry. “Sorry, I was just finishing getting ready,” you say, the words spilling out before the door is even fully open.

Jaeyun’s breath catches. He stands there, rendered speechless, his eyes sweeping over you in quiet awe. The sundress - a blue as soft and endless as the June sky - drapes over you perfectly, your hair cascading past your shoulders, held back by two delicate white bows. He’s grown used to tucking the strands they held behind your ear, knowing how much they annoy you. But now that excuse to touch you has vanished. Then again, he doesn’t need an excuse anymore, not now that you’re his. 

His gaze lingers on your neck, catching the faint shimmer of your perfume’s dewy mist, and suddenly he feels absurdly underdressed in his beige trousers, white top, and denim vest. The outfit that had seemed so effortlessly cool this morning now feels naively foolish.

You shift nervously under his gaze, mistaking his silence for something else entirely. Is he trying to think of a compliment because he hates it? The thought ties a knot in your stomach. Is he disappointed? 

You’re both stupid. Stupidly in love as you overthink.

“You look,” he finally begins, his voice softer than usual as he tries to collect himself, his accent thick and heavy, “you look like you’re the muse for the stars.” He pauses, his words feeling inadequate for the way you’ve left him feeling. It isn’t everything he wants to say, but it’s all he can manage. He wants to write you Shakespeare-level sonnets, to tell you everything you have ever needed and wanted to hear but he’s fumbling hard as he watches you nervously shift your feet and bite your lip. 

A flush warms your cheeks, and a flutter runs up your spine. You glance at him, expecting him to meet your gaze, but his eyes are busy drinking in every detail. There’s a strange intensity on his face - something you’ve seen in films but never truly believed you’d experience in real life.

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you murmur, your voice catching slightly as you reach for your jacket hanging on the wooden rack. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” The word escapes him in a whisper, carried on a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though he avoids direct eye contact. It’s as if he’s afraid meeting your gaze will betray all the things he’s too scared to say. He watches you shrug on your white jacket, slightly creased but perfect to him all the same. That jacket - he’s always loved it on you. Then again, there isn’t anything he doesn’t love on you. You could wear a burlap sack, and he’d still think you were the most beautiful girl to grace the earth.

—

The walk to the outdoor movie theatre is filled with random snippets of conversation, the kind you’d expect from two people who have been friends for years yet feel the exhilarating newness of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. Still, Jaeyun never quite meets your eyes. His gaze flickers to your profile when he thinks you’re not looking, admiring the way the evening sunlight dances off your hair or the soft curve of your smile when you laugh at one of his god-awful jokes.

His thoughts are a mess. She’s too beautiful. Is this real? Am I staring too much? And every time the wind catches your hair and brushes it behind your ear, his lungs forget that they have an important job to do, and he has to force himself to refocus on not tripping over his own feet.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you tease as you nudge his arm. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Jaeyun’s ears burn at the passing compliment - secretly enjoying being called pretty more than hot or handsome - and he quickly shakes his head, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Nothing,” he lies, but his grin betrays him. It’s embarrassing enough that you’ve caught him acting weird, never mind him spilling his guts out and telling the reason for his awkward chuckles and lack of eye contact is because you’re too beautiful that his brain short-circuits.

“Liar,” you quip, giggling softly but letting him keep his secrets. 

Before either of you realise, you’ve arrived at the outdoor theatre. Fairy lights are strung around the area, draping the venue in a warm, golden glow as the sun begins its descent. A soft murmur of chatter fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of popcorn and freshly cut grass. Jaeyun hands the tickets to the attendant, and you both scan the crowd for a spot.

It’s busier than he thought it would be; people must really like hobgoblins and nonces.

“Over there,” you say excitedly, pointing to a small patch on the left. It’s snug and as private as an outdoor venue can be. A tree curves over the spot, creating a romantic setting as the leaves blossom and some fall around you.

Jaeyun pulls a blanket out of his bag as well as a packet of strawberry laces - your favourite. The sight of them, along with some other of your desired snacks, makes your heart swell. “Thanks, Jaeyun,” you say softly, settling into a comfortable position and draping the blanket over your legs.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles, placing the sweets between you two. As he rifles through his bag for the drinks, you catch yourself staring at him. The soft denim vest he’s wearing accentuates his broad shoulders, and the way his jaw flexes, while he concentrates, sends your heart into a free fall.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you murmur, your voice almost shy.

Jaeyun quickly glances at you, his smile soft. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, just say the word,” he replies, his tone casual but the sincerity in his words is undeniable. He has such a beautiful way of making you feel like loving you is effortless. Even as your best friend, his love for you was second nature.

You never thank him enough for that.

The movie begins just as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the theatre in red twilight. You shift closer to him, your knees brushing his thigh as the blanket falls. Without thinking, Jaeyun places his hand on your knee, his thumb grazing under fabric of your dress. The contact sends a jolt through you, and your breath hitches, though he doesn’t seem to notice.

It’s an innocent gesture, one that he isn’t a stranger to. But this is a little different; now you can really take notice of each touch he gives you, no longer having to bottle up how it makes you feel to have his skin on yours.

As you try to focus on the film, your eyes flicker downward to his arm and fuck was it a bad decision. The veins in his forearm protrude, dancing with the subtle flex of his fingers against your knee. It makes your stomach knot in ways that have nothing to do with nerves. You swallow hard, but your mouth feels dry - all the moisture from your tongue now dripped down to your heat.

You have never been so horny in your life.

Jaeyun notices you shift beside him and leans in to whisper, concern evident in his voice. “You okay, Y/N?” 

You nod quickly, your cheeks burning as you force yourself to look at the screen. But now, all you can notice is Jareth’s outfit - and more specifically, the…prominent tent of his trousers.

Was it always that in-your-face? you wonder, squirming slightly.

Jaeyun’s voice cuts through your spiralling thoughts as he nudges your shoulder. “You think I could pull off that outfit?” he asks, pointing to the screen with a smirk. He can sense something wrong with you - what that is, he doesn’t quite know - but the one thing that always dissipates any unease within you is humour.

Normally, you’d laugh and fire back a sarcastic remark, but the thought of him in those trousers, of what they’d accentuate, well that makes heat flood your face and panties stick to you. 

It’s not that you’ve never thought about Jaeyun sexually, of course, you have. You’re a girl at the end of the day and your hormones are all over the place, sad, horny, excited, depressed, hyper, you experience all the emotions mountains high. And as much as you’re telling yourself not to get too carried away - after all, he just became your boyfriend yesterday - your mind has other plans. It’s been waiting for him, your body has been craving him as it tries to work out how to control the lust you’ve decided to develop.

You manage a weak chuckle, hoping the inner turmoil your facing doesn’t show on your face. But your lack of response doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale,” he says, his brow furrowing as his hand slides up your thigh.

The sudden pressure is too much, his fingerprints kissing your sensitive skin. So you do what any girl would do; you jolt upright, nearly knocking over the strawberry laces in your haste and avoid the situation altogether. 

“I-I’m going to get a drink. Do you want one?” you stammer, not waiting for his response before grabbing your bag and practically bolting to the concession stand.

Jaeyun watches you go, confusion etched right across his face. What the fuck was that? As he replays every single second from the past few moments. You sat down, grabbed the blanket, and watched the movie. He noticed you were a little off and trailed his hand up your thigh-

His eyes widen in horror. Oh no. No, no, no. I crossed a line, didn’t I? I made her uncomfortable. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He buries his face in his hands, groaning quietly. After what happened with Mark a few days ago, after explaining how you deserve someone with no expectations of you to give anything like that in return, he goes and makes you uncomfortable. 

He didn’t even mean it like that, but how else are you meant to take his groping of your thigh if not hormonal horn?

Meanwhile, you’re dealing with your own panic as you stand at the brightly lit stand, trying to cool down. What is wrong with me? you think, tapping your card against the reader as you order two drinks - grape for him and strawberry for yourself. 

This is Jaeyun. My boyfriend. My best friend. The person I’ve known for years and yet, somehow, tonight feels different. It’s as though every wall that’s ever been between us has crumbled, leaving nothing but raw vulnerability and an unbearable awareness of him.

Why are you suddenly just so…aware of him? The way his shirt clings to his chest, the slope of his jaw as it tenses when he laughs, and the way his hair falls just slightly into his eyes, make you want to reach up and push it back. Maybe this is why people say bottling things up only makes them spill over. Because once the cap comes off, it’s impossible to stop the flood.

And right now years of want and need are flooding. Overflowing.

When you return from the stand, two drinks in hand, Jaeyun’s waiting, his leg bouncing slightly as though he’s nervous. The moment you hand him his grapeade, his fingers brush yours, and he mutters a soft, “Thanks, Y/N.” His smile is polite but stiff, and he shifts slightly, leaving a noticeable gap between you on the blanket. The movement is subtle, but it feels like a canyon has opened between you. Your stomach twists uncomfortably.

He thinks I’m uncomfortable. The realisation hits like a punch. He thinks he did something wrong, and now you’ve ruined the date.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s focused on the screen, but his posture is rigid, his hands clasped tightly around the bottle. He looks like he’s trying too hard to blend in, to take up less space, and it makes your heart ache. You know he’s overthinking, blaming himself for a moment you caused by being incapable of keeping your thoughts - indecent and overwhelming as they are - under control.

Perhaps if you were a little more confident, you could play it off. Flirt back. Create some playful tension. Isn’t that what people do on dates? But instead, you’re stuck in your head, wrestling with your own feelings and second-guessing every move.

The rest of the movie passes in silence, save for the blare of the soundtrack and the occasional rustle of Jaeyun reaching for snacks. You try to focus on the film, humming along softly to familiar songs, but your thoughts are louder than the speakers. You can feel his glances, those fleeting looks that linger for a second too long before darting away, and they remind you so much of the way you used to look at him before you were together. The way you’d steal glimpses, full of longing, wondering if he’d ever see you the same way.

Now, it feels like you’re back there again, standing on opposite sides of an invisible wall. The distance between you feels unbearable. 

As the credits roll and the crowd begins to disperse, you both stand, brushing crumbs from your clothes, your dress creased and suddenly all that fuss earlier in the evening feels wasted.

The walk home is quiet, the tension so thick it feels like you’re wading through it. Neither of you speaks, both lost in your own twisted thoughts, blaming yourselves for something none of you are aware of. Your hands swing awkwardly at your sides, never quite brushing his but longing to lock your fingers into his, and it’s enough to drive you mad.

When you finally reach your doorstep, the words come spilling out simultaneously. “Jaeyun, I—-” “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You stop, blinking at each other in surprise. His head dips, his gaze fixed on the ground, and he shuffles his feet. “Y/N, you don’t have to say anything. I know I messed up.”

“What?” you ask, frowning.

“I shouldn’t have touched you like that,” he continues, his voice strained. “I mean, on your thigh. It was stupid and inappropriate, and I made you uncomfortable. I-I should’ve known better. Especially after what happened with that prick.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. When they do, your heart sinks. “Jaeyun, no,” you say softly, stepping closer. You reach out, taking his hand in yours, and he looks up, his eyes filled with guilt. “I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

His brows furrow, confusion evident. “Then why did you-”

“I was turned on, okay?!” you blurt out, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. Your hand flies to your mouth, your eyes wide in horror. Did you seriously just admit that so blase? You have zero shame apparently, but deep down you know you have to tell him the truth or else he will continue to blame himself for something he didn’t even do.

There’s a beat of silence, your horny confession sucking the cold air away from you and filling you both with burning heat.

Then, Jaeyun’s lips twitch, and before you know it, he’s laughing. Not just chuckling, but full-on doubling over, his hands on his knees as he lets out a loud, hearty laugh. All the anxiety and apprehension totally vanished and replaced with relief and amusement.

“Jaeyun!” you groan, your face burning. You swat at his shoulder, but it only makes him laugh harder.

“Wait, wait,” he gasps, straightening up. He’s grinning now, his cheeks pink from laughter, and his eyes sparkle in the dim light. “You were turned on?”

You glare at him, your embarrassment reaching new heights. “Stop saying it!”

But he’s not done. He steps closer, his hands cupping your face, and suddenly all the teasing is gone. His expression softens, his eyes searching yours. “Baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, “I thought I crossed the line.”

You shake your head, your hands slipping around his waist. “You didn’t, I promise. I just got…” you whisper, trailing off as to not repeat it again.

Before you can say anything more, his lips are on yours. The kiss is nothing like the ones you’ve shared previous. It’s urgent, almost desperate, his lips moving against yours with a fervour that leaves you breathless. His hand slides to your throat, his thumb grazing the curve of your jaw as his silver ring presses coolly against your skin. You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his wet muscle teasing yours.

The mix of all your emotions swirls as his tongue laps yours in reassuring strokes, his hand tightening on your neck, grounding you in the moment. If it wasn’t for his touch, you might float away, all of your insides turned to flames as your body acts like a hot air balloon.

“Y/N,” he groans against your lips, his voice filled with need.

You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, as though the space between you is too much to bear. The world around you fades, and all that exists is him - the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body, the sound of his ragged breathing. 

Jaeyun snakes one of his arms around your waist, pulling your hips to his as you feel him growing against you. The sensation causes you to both harmonise a moan as you completely meld into one another. 

If you weren’t horny before, you certainly are now.

And then, just as you both begin to get excited about what the night could hold, the porch light flicks on, flooding the driveway with a blinding light.

“Shit,” Jaeyun mutters, pulling back as he glances at the door. “Your mum’s going to kill me if she sees us like this.”

You try to pull him back, not really caring about the impending danger of your mother’s scolding. It’s not like she would care if you are both dating, but being caught while you practically try to hump him might cause her to never let Jaeyun in your house again. Goodbye sleepovers, goodbye midnight hangouts on the weekends, and certainly goodbye to closing the door. 

Pulling him back, you shake your head adamantly, muttering a soft ‘nu-uh’ as you capture his mouth with yours. Jaeyun can’t help but give in for a second, gripping your waist tightly as he groans in both frustration and pleasure.

Once he hears the loud, heavy footsteps of your mum padding down the stairs, Jaeyun reluctantly pulls away, his breath mingling with yours as his forehead rests against yours for a fleeting moment. He doesn’t leave you hanging, though. Instead, he peppers your lips with a series of soft, teasing kisses - each one lighter than the last, as if he’s trying to wean you off him. A playful smirk tugs at his lips when he plants a final, lingering peck.

“To be continued, yeah?” he whispers, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. There’s something about knowing the effect he has on you, it really makes him realise that this is definitely more than just friendship for you, that line crossed so quickly. His words linger in the air, filled with promises of what’s to come.

Before you can answer, he darts off, bolting down the driveway, and just in time, your mum appears at the door, her brow furrowing as she spots you standing there, rooted to the spot, cheeks aflame.

“Y/N? What are you doing out here?” she asks, her voice laced with suspicion, as she looks past you towards the street.

“Nothing, Mum,” you reply, your voice light and breezy despite the flush still colouring your cheeks. You try to keep the grin tugging at your lips at bay, but it’s no use. You watch Jaeyun’s figure disappear into the distance, his silhouette illuminated briefly by the streetlights, and your heart feels as though it’s been set alight, burning in the most beautiful way - there’s no danger, only passion.

He is everything. Everything you could ever want, everything you never knew you needed. His laughter, his touch, the way his voice wraps around you - it’s all etched into your skin, into the very fabric of your atoms.

With your heart fit to burst, overflowing with the weight of his adoration and your own, you step inside, heading upstairs. Each step feels light and easy, as though you’re gliding, feet barely touching the ground.

Later that night, as you lie in bed, his scent still lingering faintly on your skin, your phone buzzes on the bedside table. You grab it instantly, your pulse quickening when you see his name lighting up the screen.

I’m so happy I get to kiss you like that forever. x

________

For the next three months, you and Jaeyun kiss like your lungs will collapse without one another’s breath. It becomes a routine; you steal moments before either of your mums get home, tucked away behind the stairwell during class breaks, or hidden between the library shelves when study periods drag on too long. Any opportunity, no matter how fleeting or risky, you grab it by the balls.

Even now, you’re leaning against the faded cream wall outside your classroom with the metal lockers nearby doing little to shield you and Jaeyun’s actions. You’re really meant to be inside the class by now, diligently sitting at your seat like the semi-good student you are. Instead, Jaeyun’s hands are in your hair, fingers delicately brushing past the knots he has created. His lips are warm, firm, and insistent against yours.

God, those fucking lips.

A low, breathy groan escapes him, reverberating against your mouth and it sends a shiver from your head to your toes. The sound is a pretty reminder that he’s just as caught up in this as you are. His palm finds the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your pulse in a way that makes your knees feel dangerously weak. You’re vaguely aware of the world outside the bubble you’ve created together, but it feels distant and unimportant right now. The heat pooling in your stomach, the way his teeth catch your bottom lip - something Jaeyun figured out you like very quickly - that’s all that matters.

“Excuse me, Mr. Sim, Miss L/N,” a sharp, exhausted voice cuts through the haze, and you both jolt apart like guilty children caught red-handed. Your teacher, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, looks both annoyed and resigned. You glance at Jaeyun, who dares to grin, his lips still slightly swollen and his hair deliciously mussed.

“Sorry, sir,” Jaeyun says, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Why would he be? He takes kissing you far more seriously than any lesson. Jaeyun presses one more hasted kiss to your lips, whispering a silent promise that it won’t be long before his mouth is back on yours, breathing in your lifeline. He shoots you a quick wink, and you have to bite back a laugh. The teacher’s glare sharpens.

By now, everyone in school is sick of the two of you. Teachers sigh audibly whenever you walk into a room together already knowing neither of you will pay attention, and students roll their eyes like it’s a chore. “You guys are so disgusting,” someone groans one day when you’re perched on Jaeyun’s desk, your fingers tracing patterns on his forearm as he squeezes your thigh. “Can you please keep your lovey-dovey shit out of my face?”

Another time, during a particularly heated make-out session in the back of the class, your history teacher’s patience finally snaps. “Mr. Sim, could you kindly relocate yourself to the front of the room? Some of your peers are trying to learn.” Jaeyun barely suppresses a laugh as he grabs his things and saunters to his new seat. When he passes by your desk, he leans down just enough to murmur, “They’re just jealous,” in that teasing tone that makes your heart race.

All you do is exchange heated makeout sessions and quick fondles, but the more it happens, the more you crave him in ways that go beyond the tangle of your tongues. You start to push more and more when you guys hang out; grinding on his lap, marking his neck with hickeys, even palming him through his trousers, silently asking for permission.

It’s not just the kisses that make you want to take it to the next level though. It’s the way he looks at you like you’re literally the only person worth seeing in a crowded room. The way his laughter feels like sunlight on a cold day. The way he seems to know you - really know you - in a way that no one else ever has. He is your best friend, your everything.

Why wouldn’t you want him to have every piece of you?

You can tell he’s apprehensive. Not because he doesn’t want to have sex with you, in fact, you can certainly see how it’s the opposite. The whines and the frustrated groans as you both roll around his bed tell you how badly he wants this. But something else is holding him back.

He’s careful, always so careful with you. It’s not hesitation, it’s patience. The kind that comes from someone who believes there’s a million and one minutes to be shared with you. He knows you’re both still young, and in his eyes, forever stretches way beyond the both of you, allowing you endless opportunities to feel and explore one another in every detailed way possible. So why rush?

That doesn’t mean it’s easy for him, he just doesn’t want to risk pushing you and doesn’t want to make you feel like you have to give more than you’re ready to.

But it’s also undeniable how much he and his body are yearning for you. You see it in the way his eyes cloud over with desperation as you trail kisses along his jaw, hear it in the way he breathes your name like it’s both a plea and a promise. He’s aching to have you, to feel you in every way possible. Yet he’ll wait. For you. As long as it takes.

There is one thing, though, that he can’t wait to do.

Late on a random Wednesday night, your phone pings, tugging you away from the textbook sprawled open on your desk. Jaeyun’s name lights up the screen, and just like your phone, your face brightens. Normally, if he wasn’t spending the night, he’d be fast asleep by now - the boy is practically religious about his eight hours. The text is unusual, but not enough to send alarm bells ringing.

Jaeyun: are you awake?

Y/N: yeah, just studying. are you okay, baby?

Jaeyun: can i come see you?

Your chest tightens slightly as you exhale, that quiet calm you’d settled into now dissolving at his unexpected question.

Y/N: sure! i’ll sneak you in. everything okay? :((

The three dots of a reply don’t appear and your last message hangs there, unanswered, leaving your brain to start spinning its anxious gears. Why does he need to see you now? What’s so urgent it can’t wait for school tomorrow - or, at the very least, a video call?

Minutes feel like hours as you wait. The silence from him is deafening, and it’s so unlike Jaeyun that it sets your stomach twisting. He’s not the type to leave you hanging, especially knowing your overactive imagination rivals his own. He’s always careful with you, considerate of your worries. Yet here you are, left to wrestle with every worst-case scenario your brain can conjure.

Foremost among them is the thought of a breakup.

You and Jaeyun have been amazing - like something out of a clichéd teen romance; but even in a love story, things aren’t always perfect, and you know that. Still, nothing has happened recently that could explain this sudden, out-of-character visit. Nothing, at least, that you can think of.

The vibration of your phone jolts you, and you find yourself holding your breath as you glance down.

Jaeyun: out front x

The kiss. That’s a good sign…isn’t it? If someone was breaking up with you, you wouldn’t put a small ‘x’ at the end of a text.

Your heart pounds as you tiptoe downstairs, just as you had the very first date with Jaeyun. Except this time, there’s no bubbling excitement, only a mix of nerves and curiosity as you silently glide down each step, ensuring you don’t wake up your parents. You unlock the door with careful hands and pull it open, and there he is.

Clad in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, he stands there looking impossibly soft against the dark. His feet are adorned in the Timberland boots you - well, technically your parents - bought him last Christmas. His denim jacket, likely shrugged off for the walk, rests over his arm. His hair is slightly dishevelled, curling at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him look both boyish and heartbreakingly beautiful.

The sight of him standing there, illuminated faintly by the porch light, makes your breath hitch. Whatever reason he’s here, whatever words are about to leave his mouth, you know they’re important. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, his voice soft and subdued with emotions you can’t place.

You don’t reply, instead stepping aside to let him in. His movements are automatic, muscle memory from all the times he’s been here before. Although tonight feels different. Without so much as a glance back, he makes his way to the stairs.

You follow him, and the ascent feels like an eternity. Each step echoes faintly in the stillness of the house, the sound amplified by your racing thoughts and the need to stay quiet. What is with him? Your stomach churns with the kind of anticipation that resembles dread. Jaeyun’s shoulders are tense, you can see that as you’re faced with his back, his hands jammed into the pockets of his sweatpants. Normally, you’d be looking at the veins on his arms and begin to mentally remember each curve, however, this isn’t a moment you want to remember.

Or so you think.

When you reach your room, he steps in first, the familiar space suddenly feeling foreign to him as his mind bounces along his cranium with doubt and excitement. You shut the door quietly, twisting the lock with a soft click, and turn to see him already sitting on the edge of your bed, hands scrunching into the fabric of your teddy blanket.

“Jaeyun, what’s wrong?” you ask, your voice low and laced with worry. It’s so quiet the world almost doesn’t hear it - but Jaeyun always hears you.

He stops fidgeting, his hands resting limply on his lap as his gaze drops to his fingers. “I just…” He trails off, his voice cracking slightly. He begins tracing the lines of his palm like he’s counting his fingers, his movements slow and soothing. “I needed to see you.”

He doesn’t look up.

The weight in the room settles a little heavier now, pressing into your chest as you swallow hard. “Talk to me,” you urge softly, watching as his posture stiffens due to your words. His entire body goes rigid, and the vulnerability in his silence sends a pang straight to your heart.

Jaeyun has always been open with you, an easy book to read. His laughter, his thoughts, his heart - all of it handed to you without hesitation. Since the first day you met, he gave you the key to his emotional safe. So to see him like this, closed off and guarded, it feels so wrong.

You quickly close the distance between you, sitting beside him, close enough that your knees touch. “You can tell me anything, Jaeyun. I promise whatever it is we ca-”

“I love you.”

The words cut yours short like a sharp blade. Quick, almost too quick, and for a moment, they don’t fully register any of the syllables. You blink, stunned, as your own words fall silent. Probably not the best reaction to have but it’s all so sudden that your brain’s crossing some wires as it fights to say something.

Jaeyun’s eyes remain locked on his hands, but there’s panic in the tightness of his jaw, the way his fingers grip his sweatpants as if he’s bracing for impact. Yet, you remain silent.

Say something, you think. Anything.

“You…do?” The words leave your lips before you can stop them, fragile and uncertain. You did ask your brain to say anything, but perhaps a rebutting question about the genuineness of his confession isn’t the way to go.

He nods slightly, his head tilting to the side but still avoiding your gaze. “Of course I do,” he says matter-of-factly, even if it comes out between shallow breaths. “I’ve loved you since I met you, I think.”

His honest words hover stagnant between you, and they make your chest ache in ways you can’t quite define as black and white. It’s not an ache that feels like fear, though there is something scary about the three words - it’s more like the kind of ache that comes with holding so much joy in your hands and wondering if it’s really yours, if you can really grasp it and never let go. A holy shit, this is real, isn’t it? kind of ache.

It’s the kind of feeling that makes your throat dry and your lungs tighten, yet your heart swells all the same. It’s painfully beautiful.

You knew deep down. Of course, you did. How could you not? You’d seen it in the way he looked at you, felt it in the way he breathed out your name as though he would be happy with it being the last thing he ever said. Yet, hearing him say it out loud was entirely different. His confession, spontaneous and real, shakes you alive. 

And you feel it too. You love the boy who is nervously biting his lip as he waits patiently and apprehensive beside you. You love him so much that the world genuinely feels as though it can do you no wrong; the sun and moon align to create the perfect love casted eclipse.

So why can’t you just say them back? You’ve felt them for so long. You’ve dreamed of saying them - you’ve even practised in the mirror for when the perfect time arose. And yet here you are, struggling.

“Y/N?” His voice is soft, cracking slightly with the weight of the moment. “Please…say something.”

There’s a plea in his tone that makes your stomach churn. His eyes, usually so steady and confident, are now dimmed with hesitation. He’s bracing himself for you to shatter him with rejection and that gets your tongue moving.

“I-” Your voice falters. The single syllable hangs in the air, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. You’re killing him with the quiet, his heart thumping as it wishes to be anywhere but in this room with you, scared you’re about to take a hammer to it.

When Jaeyun decided to tell you tonight, it was impulsive - he knows - but his tongue and heart couldn’t help themselves. He loves you. He loves you like Jack loves Rose, like Gomez loves Morticia, and like his dad loves his mum. He’s so certain that although his feelings are scary, the most terrifying part is you not feeling the same.

You’re searching for the right words, but none seem worthy of what you’re feeling. This isn’t just love - it’s something bigger, something that spills out beyond the English language. But you know you need to say it, even if it doesn’t feel like enough. Because you need him to know, even a fraction.

“I-”, you begin again, finfing your voice, “I love you too, Jaeyun. The whisper comes out at last, and the words hit his chest like a fragile secret you’ve been holding onto for far too long. 

You just hope you said it with enough sincerity that he doesn’t doubt you. You would hate if he thought you were simply returning the words back to him out of obligation.

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, his dark eyes wide and searching, and when you see the way they light up, your heart nearly stops. He’s like a puppy seeing a bone, not quite believing it’s his but anticipating the treat.

Slowly, as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear, he cups your cheek. His palm is warm against your skin, grounding you in this moment that feels almost too perfect to be real.

“Really?” he breathes, fighting the smile until he hears you say it again. Half refusing to believe it.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a smile drawing itself across your cheeks. “Really, really.”

The tension in the air shifts. It doesn’t dissolve, but it changes - transforming into something softer, something heartstopping. You barely have time to register the shift before he’s leaning in, pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss is tentative at first, still testing the waters, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Soon, the tenderness gives way to desperate love. You can feel it in the way his body magnitises to yours, each cell of his body begging to be joined with yours. His hand moves to your waist, his fingers splaying against the fabric of your t-shirt like he’s anchoring himself to you.

Your hands, almost on instinct, clutch at the fabric of his white tshirt, pulling him closer. It’s not enough - fuck, he’s so close and yet it feels like there’s still too much space between you. Your chest presses against his, your breaths mingling as the kiss deepens.

“I love you so much,” you murmur against his lips, loving the feeling of the words falling so freely from your tongue.

Something in him seems to snap just as you finish the sentence because before you know it, he’s guiding you back onto the bed, his hand gently pressing your shoulder until you’re lying beneath him. The mattress dips under your weight as he hovers over you, his lips never straying far from yours.

The kiss shifts the atmosphere from relief to greed, growing hungrier, needier, and you feel his fingers tightening on your skin. The hand that had been on your shoulder trails upwards, his thumb brushing just below your jaw, tracing the delicate line of your neck. His hand is so big it encapsulates almost all of your neck, your pulse thruming against his palm.

It’s overwhelming in the best way. Your skin feels hypersensitive to every little movement. His lips leave yours eventually, trailing a path down to your jaw, then to the curve of your neck. You tilt your head almost instinctively, giving him better access as his mouth brushes your skin, and you feel the faintest hint of teeth grazing to tease you.

“Jaeyun,” you whisper, not even sure what you’re trying to say - maybe you just want to remind yourself that he’s there, that he is the one making you feel like you’re flying.

He pulls back just enough to look at you as your breathy moan calls out to him. His gaze is wild, unfocused, like he’s caught in some trance he can’t manage to break. But when his eyes meet yours, they soften instantly and you see the Jaeyun you know, his worry of pushing you too far settling to the front of his mind.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice hoarse as he starts to draw back. “I got carried away-”

“Don’t apologise,” you interrupt, grabbing the front of his shirt to stop him. His eyes widen slightly at your words, his lips parting as though he’s about to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. Instead, you cup his face, your fingers brushing over the bumps of his faint acne scars. “I want this,” you say, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “I need you. I have for fucking ever.”

The genuineness of your words seems to reach him, though, it doesn’t stop that nagging in his subconscious. He doesn’t want you to regret your first time, to make this decision because you’re riled up by the confessions. But as he looks into your eyes, he sees no hesitation, only pure love and want.

It only takes a moment before his lips are back on yours, his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. His touch is gentle if not urgent, his lips soft and warm against yours. The sound of soft whines against your lips sends pleasurable vibrations down your spine. You need him, more than you did at the outdoor movie, more than literally any other time you kissed him. 

This feels different.

This feels like you’re completely in love.

His mouth trails down your body, not hurried but rather purposeful. He doesn’t remove your clothes just yet - instead he lifts your t-shirt to your breasts and begins kissing a gentle line from your valley to the soft curve of your belly. Once he’s reached his destination, his lips linger just where your shorts meet your hips, spending extra time just being there. 

The heat between you both is palpable. You instinctively shift your hips, a silent invitation for him to remove your shorts, but he doesn’t. Not yet.

He teases you, kissing along the line of your lower abdomen, his hands caressing your calves with slow, deliberate strokes. He knows exactly what he’s doing, drawing this moment out, making you ache for him even more. 

"Jaeyun, please don’t," you whisper, your voice a breathless plea as your eyes lock with his. His are half-lidded, already drenched in lust as his lashes graze his cheek, a twinkle of joy sparkling in the dim light of your room.

"Don’t what, baby?" he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss just under your belly button, his lips continuing their slow descent. His fingers brush against you, skimming lightly over your covered slit. You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily at the foreign feeling, eliciting a teasing smile to play on your boyfriend’s lips. “Don’t tease?”

His finger gains more stength as he applies some further pressure to your cunt, you clit screaming out for his touch. Surprisingly, he finds it even with the barrier of your shorts. You’re not experienced in this department but you’ve read enough magazine columns to know that men have a hard time with locating your precious gem.

Jaeyun must really just be perfect. Or lucky.

The soft moan that escapes you is a sound of pure need that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Jaeyun’s grin widens with pride as he continues to rub your sensitive spot over your shorts, each movement coaxing another response from you.

“So fucking pretty like this, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady.

You haven’t seen this side of him before - the way he’s so in tune with your body, so confident in his touch. This is new to you, to both of you. The Jaeyun you know has always been playful, carefree, but tonight, he’s different - more in control.

What you don’t know, though, is that just a day before, he sought advice from his friend Heeseung about, well, everything. 

"Have any of you ever...you know...eaten a girl out before?" Jaeyun asks, his voice  laced with uncertainty. His friends snicker, but Heeseung, the more mature one, is the only one to respond with any real insight. He’s the only one with enough experience to even answer his question anyway.

"It’s all about listening and responding," Heeseung says, a knowing look in his eyes. "You’ve got to read the room. If you do something and she moans, you do it again. If she doesn’t like it, you try something else. It’s all about learning each other’s bodies."

Jaeyun looks at him with wide eyes, as though Heeseung has unlocked the mysteries of the female body. Heeseung’s advice becomes his guide, and now, it seems like he’s ready to put it into practice.

“How do i do it right though? You always see those tiktoks about girls blasting guys for not being able to get them off,” Jaeyun pauses, “what if I can’t?”

“You will, just listen to her, Jake. Let her control the situation without her even knowing she is.”

And that’s exactly what Jaeyun is doing now. He’s paying attention - listening to the sounds you make, reading every move of your body as if it’s the bible, every unspoken need his hymn sheet. 

He hears the soft whimper you let out when he pulls his fingers away, his own breath catching as he watches your thighs tremble. Without hesitation, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts and pulls them down, his movements desperate but deliberate.

His eyes darken as they settle on you, bare and exposed beneath him. A quiet moan leaves his lips, his restraint hanging by a thread. He’s see pussy before, through the screen of his phone as he jerkily pumps his cock in the midst of the night, but yours…fuck, yours is artwork. It’s like finally seeing the Mona Lisa in person. 

Right now, the only thing stopping him from burying his face between your thighs and devouring you entirely is the need to hear you say it. To know, without question, that you want this as much as he does.

"Can I?" His voice is low, clogged with need. The words alone send your brain into orbit and your hips lift instinctively, offering yourself to him, but that isn’t enough. He needs more.

"Use your words, baby."

"Please, Jaeyun," you whisper, breathless. "I need you so bad."

That’s all it takes.

His hands grip your thighs as he leans in, dragging his tongue between your folds in one single stripe. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as he tastes you for the first time. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting the tang to be so intoxicating, your slick making his buds dance with joy. He has a sneaking suspicion that he’ll get addicted to this. To you.

His lips envelop around your clit in a way that makes your entire body contract. He’s eager, but not rushed - at least he’s trying his hardest not to be. His tongue moves with purpose, seeking out every spot that makes your breath hitch.

"Yunnie…oh my god," you gasp, fingers threading through his messy brown strands, pulling roughly.  "Baby, don’t stop."

He doesn’t. If anything, your plea spurs him on. Heeseung’s advice plays in the back of his mind, and he follows it without hesitation. He listens, he adjusts, he learns. And when he hears the way you whimper when he flattens his tongue against you, when he feels the way your thighs squeeze around his head and muffle the world around him, he does it again.

Jaeyun groans against you, completely undone by the way you react to him. He’s so glad Heeseung sent him those videos, so fucking grateful he paid attention because now, he knows exactly what to do to elicit pleasure from you. And the fact that he’s the one making you fall apart like this? It only makes him hungrier.

His lips brush over your clit, his voice a husky whisper. "Baby…can I?" He traces a single finger along your entrance, waiting for the green light. 

"Do it," you manage to huff out, the need in your voice making his cock twitch.

He doesn’t make you wait either. He slides his middle finger into you, groaning at how tight you are, the feeling of your walls also not what he was expecting. It’s warm - obviously - but those ridges of your walls, the way the flutter even around a simple finger, it’s making him feel feral. "Fuck, baby…you’re gonna be so tight around me."

The stretch is new, different. You’ve never used anything more than your fingers before but his feel nothing like yours. His are longer, thicker, reaching places you didn’t even know existed inside of you. He curls his digit just enough to press against a soft spot inside and you have to cover your mouth with how loud you mewl out. He grins against your skin, pressing his lips back to your sensitive bud as he watches you wriggle under his orchestrated touch. He circles his tongue in slow, lazy strokes, his pace unhurried but devastating for you.

"More," you breathe, and the word alone puts him on the verge of losing it.

He doesn’t hesitate, slipping another finger inside you, and the when you’ve become accustomed to that, he adds another. He uses his nose to nudge your clit with every movement, his breath hot, his tongue relentless. He can feel it - your body tightening, signalling to him that you’re ready. And you don’t even realise it yet.

But he does. He knows you better than you know yourself.

"Are you gonna cum, Princess?"

Princess.

The nickname catches you off guard, but god, the way it rolls off his tongue has you spiralling into orbit.

"So close," you admit, anchoring yourself to earth long enough to know and understand what’s happening. Your voice is shaky as pleasure rumbles in waves, beginning to drown you.

Jaeyun drinks you in like you’re the last drop of water in the desert. His grip tightens, his movements never faltering. And when you finally come undone, his fingers don’t stop, his tongue still lapping up everything you give him.

Oh, he is definitely going to get addicted to this.

You’re panting, your hands still tangled in his hair yanking at his roots as your mind fogs with euphoria. Jaeyun begins to slow down his ministrations, not taking away a second of this from either of you. His eyes roll to the back of his head, savouring the last drops as they leak from your cunt.

He looks up at you, his lips glistening in your essence, his eyes soft yet undeniably starving. "You okay?" he asks, almost innocently despite the sin over his features.

"I’m fantastic," you huff out in a laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

Jaeyun chuckles, pressing one last kiss teasingly to your clit, making you shudder with that ache.

"Jaeyun…" you whisper his name so softly that it gets swept by the air circulating you both, a feather floating as love carries it.

He takes off his tshirt before slowly climbs up your body, his bare chest brushing against your skin, his face hovering inches from yours. "What is it, love?"

And that’s when it hits you. So suddenly. So earth shatteringly obvious. The overwhelming, undeniable realisation that there will never be anyone else. Not after this. Not after him.

You reach for him, pulling him into a kiss that’s deeper and more desperate than any that came before it. Your fingers thread through his hair, your body arching against his as you whisper against his lips, "Jaeyun, I love you so much. I need you."

He stills, his forehead pressing against yours as he takes in your words, his breath uneven as his mind jumps in anxiety and his cock leaps for joy.

"Are you sure, baby?" His voice is thick with restraint, his eyes pleading, hopeful. He wants this, but this is a big step for both of you. Giving you head is one thing but losing your virginity - he needs to make sure this is everything you want.

And you’ve never been more sure of anything in your life.

"I’m so sure, Jaeyun," you whisper, your hand slipping between your bodies. Your fingers trail over his slightly -toned stomach before slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. The direct contact of your hand around his dick makes his breath stutter, then completely stop as you begin to stroke him gently, feeling his weight and warmth. "Let me have every bit of you."

A strangled groan leaves his lips as his head falls back. His grip on your waist tightens, his body trembling under your touch.

"Baby, stop before I-" He catches your wrist, his voice strained. "I’ll cum in my pants if you keep doing that…at least let me be inside of you," His eyes are desperate, his body yearning out for you.

"Jaeyun-" you start to protest, but before you can finish, he pulls away just long enough to strip himself of his sweatpants and boxers.

Your breath catches at the sight of him.

His cock stands thick and hard against his stomach, the head flushed a pretty shade of pink. A prominent vein runs along the underside, disappearing beneath the ridge of his tip. He’s big - bigger than you expected - but all you can think about is how badly you want him. No - need him.

Jaeyun swallows hard at the sight of you on your knees, your legs tucked beneath you, your gaze locked onto his cock. The strap of your pyjama top has slipped down your shoulder, exposing the soft curve of your breast. The sight is enough to make his stomach tighten.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

He shakes his head clear of the lust-drunken state he’s in before leaning down to kiss you, capturing your lips with his once again. You’re so melded together that it’s impossible to tell where you end and he begins, your mouths moving together in a perfect, delicious rhythm.

He lowers you back onto the bed, his body settling over yours, his hand slipping between your legs once more. The moment his fingers brush over your core, your breath catches and your body trembles from oversensitivity. 

"Are you ready for me, baby?" His voice is soft, careful. "Or should I open you up some more?"

Jaeyun’s question was meant to be innocent - he really did want you to be ready for him - but in your heightened state, it was the filthiest thing he had said so far. You were too lost in sensation to string together a proper sentence, yet you knew he needed to be careful. The last thing you need is to walk out as a cast member of Teen Mom.

“Condom,” you manage to point towards the nightstand. “Second drawer.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches over. “Did you expect this to happen or something?” His tone is amused but the heaving of his chest shows how turned on he is, even just by the prospect of a condom.

You let out a breathless laugh, still coming down from the intensity of it all. “Got them at the doctor’s office when I was there. You know I can’t pass up a freebie.”

Jaeyun lets out a loud, genuine laugh, his forehead resting against yours for a moment before he presses a soft kiss to your lips, then, just as he opens the drawer, his hand stills.

“Y/N?” His voice shifts, a teasing lilt creeping in.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to see what caught his attention, only for heat to rush to your face as he holds up a small bullet vibrator between his fingers, a slow smirk spreading across his lips.

“Is this my competition?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile downright wicked. He knew you would have masturbated, but for some reason he just expected you to use your pretty fingers. At least, that’s the thought that got him through his own wank sessions.

You groan, shoving at his chest, embarrassed that you didn’t do a better job of hiding it. Jaeyun tosses the toy aside and leans in again, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’ll make sure you never need that again,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something impossibly low. “Only I get to make you cum from now on, yeah? You need to get off, you call me.”

A whimper escapes you, and the sound alone has his smirk deepening. You don’t doubt his words for a second. His expression softens as he tilts your chin up. “You ready for this?” His voice is a whisper now, careful to convey his sincerity. “We can stop whenever you want, okay?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “I’m ready.” It’s scary, all the warnings about how it hurts suddenly suffocate your mind. Why now? 

Jaeyun takes himself in hand, dragging the head of his cock between your folds, spreading your wetness before tapping it lightly against your clit. A sharp gasp leaves you, your body arching instinctively, suddenly forgetting about your worries. Oh, how simple your horny body is.

“Fuck, Jaeyun. Need you.”

That familiar wetness from earlier coats your thighs, the sheets, and him all at once. He keeps teasing you, watching the way you writhe beneath him, how you gasp and whimper at every slow drag of his length as his head snags on your hood and plays with your bud. Heeseung had told him it was important to make sure you were relaxed, that it would hurt less if you were wet enough. He’d even sent videos explaining it and for the first time, Jaeyun took interest in Biology.

Exhaling to steady himself, he lines up at your entrance. “Breathe out for me, baby,” he murmurs, his free hand stroking up your thigh. “And if it hurts too much, tell me and we will slow down.”

You nod, eyes locked onto his. “Okay.”

Slowly, he pushes his tip in. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and he stills immediately, his thumb rubbing smooth circles on your thigh. “Princess, you okay?” His voice is tight, his concern cutting through his haze of arousal.

You nod, but he doesn’t move. Not until you say something. “I’m okay, Jaeyun.” You exhale, fingers trailing down his arms to reassure him. “Just give me a minute?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, nodding. He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. But as he does, his cock slides a little deeper, and you wince as he moans out.

“Shit, love, I’m sorry,” he breathes, guilt flashing in his eyes.

Love.

He’s pulling out every pet name he can think of, and god, you love it. You pull him back into a kiss to let him know it’s okay, that the discomfort is bearable, that you trust him. The stretch even from his cock is a lot, but it is to die for. It sends you excitement racing ahead of the pain.

“This is really boosting my ego, y’know,” Jaeyun jokes, looking lovingly into your eyes as he lowers himself further, making his position more comfortable to hold. 

The laugh you let out is accompanied by an eye roll. Your boyfriend, so sweet and caring, knows exactly what you need to relax and distract you from the burn. Even as you laugh, you loosen up a little for him, allowing his cock some room to breathe.

“I’m glad, you should be very proud.”

“Bigger than that vibrator, huh?”

“Wait until you see my dildo collection.”

You and Jaeyun both giggle, placing lazy kisses over each other’s faces as you wash each other in love and adoration, each word, each look, each touch of your skin is securing the bond you share, nothing unable to tear it apart.

You take a deep breath after a moment and smile softly at your lover. “I’m good. You can go.”

Jaeyun nods, laying a final peck to your nose before moving slowly, deliberately, pushing in inch by inch. It’s new for both of you, but there’s no awkwardness, no tension - just quiet understanding, a deep intimacy that makes your chest feel impossibly full.

“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his forehead pressing against yours as he bottoms out. His eyes squeeze shut, his whole body trembling. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

You cradle his face, watching the way he’s completely unravelled, how he’s totally lost in the feeling of you. A surge of confidence swells in your chest. You’re doing this to him. You’re making him feel like this.

Your hips lift, finally doing some work as you silently urge him to move, and his eyes snap open, wild and dark with need.

“Princess… fuck,” he gasps when you clench around him on purpose.

You smirk, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “Is it good, baby?”

The second the words leave your mouth, Jaeyun lets out a strangled moan. His body tenses, his rhythm faltering, and before you can process it, he’s cumming. His jaw slackens, his breath stuttering as pleasure overtakes him.

If you could retain one moment for the rest of his life, it would be this - Jaeyun, undone, lost in euphoria, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants, sweat beading at his temple. He’s beautiful like this, more breathtaking than you’ve ever seen him.

His arms shake as he tries to hold himself up. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing. “I didn’t mean to…that was too fast.” He could curse himself over and over again because why the fuck did he bust his load so quickly? His cock is his biggest enemy right now, embarrassing him by getting too excited too fast.

You laugh softly, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. “Jaeyun, it’s okay. It was perfect.” And it was. You don’t expect your first time to last all night; just experiencing this with your boyfriend is enough for you.

But it’s not enough for the boy above you. His lips press into a plump pout, the one he always adorns when he’s dissatisfied. “No, I should have made you finish.” His eyes burn with determination, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Bab-”

One quick thrust knocks the words right out of your mouth.

The pleasure spreads through you in an instant, making your whole body jolt. “Jaeyun, you don’t have to-oh, god.”

He doesn’t slow, if anything, he picks up the pace, his fingers finding your clit.

“Princess, I promised I’d make you feel good,” he rasps, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m gonna make you cum again, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Jaeyun has always been determined - when he sets his mind on something, he sees it through. And if his goal is to have you falling apart beneath him, he’s going to make sure he achieves it.

You try to keep quiet, mindful of your parents down the hall, but it’s impossible. The pleasure is too much, your moans spilling out uncontrollably. His thick cock kisses each bump of your walls so beautifully, any pain is washed away with pure ecstasy. 

Jaeyun smirks, rolling his hips in a way that makes you cry out. “Baby, you gotta be quiet.” His voice is teasing, but when he thrusts harder, pulling another loud moan from you, his smirk widens. “I know I’m good, but try.”

You can’t even muster a glare - too lost in the way he feels, in the way he’s taking you apart. You’ve suddenly found a new love for his stubborn need to achieve the best.

“Jaeyun…I’m so-”

“I know, princess. I can feel you.” His lips trail down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on all your sweet spots. “Need you to cum all over me, yeah?” His voice is wrecked, his desperation bleeding through. “You love my cock, don’t you?”

“I love you.” The words slip out, tangled in a breathy moan but it doesn’t deminish the sincerity.

Jaeyun stills, his eyes softening, his smirk melting into something more tender. “God, I love you too, Y/N. So fucking much. I’ll love you forever if you let me.”

His movements grow more focused, more purposeful. He ignores his own overstimulation, his only goal to push you over the edge. “Baby, cum for me.” He brushes a thumb over your cheek, voice thick with adoration. “Just for me, give me everything.”

The intensity is overwhelming - the pleasure, the emotion, the weight of his love wrapping around you like a blanket. He is your soulmate, you know that now. 

Your orgasm crashes into you, shattering you completely. You barely register the sounds you’re making, Jaeyun swallowing them with a desperate kiss. And when it’s over, when your body trembles beneath his, Jaeyun holds you close, pressing lazy kisses to your skin.

His voice is a whisper, reverent. “Mine.”

First times in novels and films always seemed impossibly perfect - moments so breathtaking, they felt unattainable. But now, lying here in Jaeyun’s arms, those depictions feel dishonest, pale imitations of the reality you’ve just experienced. Nothing could ever compare to this. Nothing could ever compare to him.

You wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. And you wouldn’t trade Jaeyun for anything. He’s beautifully perfect.

As the lingering waves of pleasure subside, you open your eyes to find him already watching you, his fingers threading gently through your damp, tangled hair. He smiles, warm and adoring, and strokes his thumb across your temple.

“Princess, you did so well,” he murmurs, voice thick with tenderness. “I’m so proud of you. I wasn’t too much, was I?” His brow creases slightly, genuine concern written all over his face.

A sleepy giggle escapes you as you shake your head. “Never…I’m so in love with you, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” You pull him into a kiss, soft and unhurried, a contrast to the mess still lingering between you.

Jaeyun groans against your lips, then laughs as he pulls back. “Babe, I swear to god, I’ll cum again if you keep saying stuff like that.”

You grin, only half-aware of the way your body protests as he slowly pulls out. The emptiness he leaves behind feels unnatural, like something has been stolen from you. You don’t know how you ever lived before him - not like this, not without being completely wrapped up in him.

And now? You’re certain you can’t live without him.

Jaeyun hisses as he carefully removes the condom, then crawls off the bed, padding over to the bin. You take the opportunity to admire him, his bare skin still flushed, his muscles shifting as he moves, his perky ass so soft and pretty. That’s all mine, you think hazily, a lazy smile tugging at your lips.

He turns just in time to catch you staring. Tilting his head, he narrows his eyes playfully. “Y/N? What are you smiling at?”

You blink up at him, still dazed. “You,” you admit, voice soft. “Just…smiling at the fact you’re mine.”

A sudden shyness creeps in, and you cover your face with your arm, giggling. Never have you been so happy, your heart content and just filled with pure innocent joy at the idea of finding love like this. 

Already striding back to the bed and hovering over you, Jaeyun gently tugs your arm away so he can see your face. “Always,” he whispers, brushing his lips over your forehead. “I’m always gonna be yours. Until my last breath on this earth, I’m yours.”

The two of you stay tangled together, bodies pressed close, as the first hints of dawn begin to filter through the curtains. You don’t move. You don’t need to.

The world can wait. Right now, there is only Jaeyun. 

___________

To say everything is going well with you and Jaeyun over the past year and a half would be an understatement. You've never felt so deeply cherished or loved in your life - not by your parents, not by your friends, not by anyone. Only Jaeyun makes the world feel more vivid and bright, as if the saturation has been turned up just for you; the sun has a habit of making life look brighter like that.

Your eighteenth birthday party is tonight, something you’ve spent months planning. It falls perfectly after exams, giving you the excuse to gather everyone and let loose. Now, do you have an endless sea of friends? Not quite. But you have your group - the ones who stay through every season. The ones who have been there for your highest highs and lowest lows. But that doesn’t stop you from inviting half the year group anyway, just to make the party feel more alive. The more, the merrier.

The house hums with excitement as preparations fall into place. Fairy lights drape across the walls, bottles of drinks line the kitchen counter - supplied by your parents and Yeji’s - and music thrums in the background, setting the vibe for the night ahead. The air carries the scent of vanilla candles mixed with anticipation.

Ryujin and Yeji, your two closest friends, are with you as you get ready, their voices a steady hum in the background as you check your reflection for the nth time. The dress you chose is deliberate: a short, black, sleek dress with red lace edging the hem. It’s bolder than your usual style, more daring. A declaration of some sorts. 

“Y/N, you look amazing,” Ryujin says, appraising you with a knowing grin. “Jake isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off you.”

You smile, her excited words confirming exactly what you’d hoped. She doesn’t know you bought the dress for that reason alone - for Jaeyun to see a new side to you. There is something about turning eighteen that - at least for you - feels so…freeing, different. Like the girl standing in front of you is more than just plain old Y/N who does semi-badly in school and collects cute keyrings. Tonight, you are stepping into a new era and although you don’t quite know what that entails just yet, it thrums beneath your skin like electricity.

Yeji claps her hands, eyes alight with excitement. “Now, it’s time to fucking party.” She pours the three of you a shot, the bright lime liquid gleaming under the bedroom lights.

You take the glass, fingers tightening around it. This moment feels like like standing on the edge of a rooftop, wind in your hair, heart racing. You glance at your friends, their faces mirroring your own exhilaration and relief of letting their hair down. So, with a grin, you clink your glass against theirs and knock back the shot, feeling the warmth spread through you.

The night is only just beginning.

Hours later, the party is in full swing. The house is packed, your parents are nowhere in sight, the music pulses through the walls, and people seem to be having the best time, each making a point to wish you a happy birthday along with appreciative thanks for hosting. You should be enjoying yourself, it is your party after all. But there is one integral piece missing. Jaeyun is still missing. You glance at your phone for the hundredth time, staring at the text he sent earlier.

Jaeyun: be there soon, baby. can’t wait to see my girl! x

That was two hours ago.

“Hey.” A voice from behind pulls you from your thoughts, dragging your eyes from the bright screen as you turn. The sight of him steals your breath for a moment. Sleeked-back hair, perfectly carved features - he’s the kind of beautiful that makes entire rooms pause.

“I’m Sunghoon.” His voice is smooth, almost amused. “You’re the birthday girl, right?”

“H-Hey. Yeah, that’s me,” you manage, feeling unexpectedly flustered. “Thanks for coming.”

The moonlight slips through the windows, catching on the sharp lines of his face, the constellation of moles dotting his skin, the gleam of his canines as he smiles. He’s striking, hypnotic in a way that unsettles you. This is Park fucking Sunghoon. 

You have never spoken to him before, nor did you think he even knew that you existed until this moment. He is never one to turn down a party but he keeps to his friend group. He’s popular, bright, has girls fawning at his feet 24/7, and yet he’s speaking to you. 

Maybe this dress had more powers than you thought.

“You’re Jake’s girlfriend?” he asks, tilting his head slightly as his eyes dart the crowded room. “Where is he?”

Where is he? You’ve been asking yourself the same thing. He’s always with you, always on time. Always here. And suddenly, you miss him even more than ever.

You force a light chuckle, shrugging. “No idea, actually.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flickers over you, assessing the situation. When his hand brushes your arm, your body tenses involuntarily. You don’t move away, but something inside you twists, an unspoken warning sounding in your mind. Jaeyun, where are you?

Sunghoon notices your hesitance and merely nods, understanding your sudden apprehension. He’s not one to force it.

“If I were Jake,” he murmurs, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’d never let my pretty girlfriend stand alone at her own party.”

And then, as if to make a point, he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple.

He’s right, isn’t he? Jaeyun should be here. Shouldn’t you be angry and not wallowing, waiting for him? Instead, you’re swallowing another shot of Cherry Sourz - Jaeyun’s favourite, a habit ingrained in you. Yeji’s words echo in your mind, the ones she exclaimed enthusiastically a few weeks ago as you were planning the night. If you’re going to celebrate your 18th birthday, you might as well have no regrets.

So you do just that. Four hours in and your sense of time is gone, your head pleasantly light and airy, your body warmed by the alcohol and humidity of the packed house. Nine shots in, and you’ve forgotten what you were even upset about.

And then the air shifts.

Jaeyun walks through the door with Heeseung and Jay, his usual easy grin in place. He greets people in the hallway, his energy relaxed - until his eyes find you.

The smile fades. His body stills. His jaw tightens.

You, in that dress, your hair tousled from dancing, the flush on your cheeks. But most of all, the hands on your waist.

Sunghoon.

Jaeyun clenches his fists, inhaling sharply through his nose as jealousy laces through his veins like wildfire. He isn’t naive. He knows Sunghoon is dangerous - not in the way that means trouble, but in the way that makes him a threat. He’s handsome, perhaps the best-looking guy in school, and more infuriatingly, he’s interested in you. 

When he was getting changed for practice a couple of days ago, he overheard Sunghoon and his friend Sunoo talking about you. About his girl. Sunghoon was talking about you, describing how you’re really catching his attention lately, and he had zero quips about your relationship status as he said ‘I don’t think Jake is competition’. That riled up Jaeyun more because how dare Sunghoon see you as something of a prize that he could win.

Jaeyun moves before he can think. One moment, Sunghoon’s hands are on you, and the next, Jaeyun is there, pulling you flush against him as he slips his arms around your waist. He buries his face in your shoulder, the scent of your perfume dulling the fury roiling inside him. You always had a way of making him calm, even if you didn’t say a word.

“Baby,” he breathes, his voice soft but laced with possession. Sunghoon steps back, but the smirk lingers in his gaze, knowing Jaeyun feels even a hint of threat. “Happy birthday, my love.”

You should be furious. You are furious. But Jaeyun’s touch is grounding, familiar, something you’ve always craved. Still, the soft part of you that folds for your boyfriend any chance it can is being dropkicked out of your senses, alcohol now fueling you into anger.

And for the first time, Jaeyun might not be able to charm his way out of this one.

You brush his hands off, ignoring him as you continue your conversation with Sunghoon. Jaeyun is hurt. He understands why you’re acting this way - he let you down. Football practice ran far longer than he intended and there was literally no way his coach was letting him leave early, but that reasoning doesn’t make it any easier to watch you give your attention to someone else. To Sunghoon, of all people.

“Princess,” he whispers, the nickname curling off his tongue like a plea, begging you not to be too harsh on him.

You can’t ignore him anymore, your bones melting at his tone, yet, the alcohol has you rolling your eyes, a dry, exasperated sigh jolting out your lips. 

“I’m sorry I’m late, I feel like such a dickhea-”

“Good,” you snap before he can finish. Your voice is sharp, not loud, but it slices straight through him. “I hope you feel worse than that.” You turn to face him now, arms crossed tight, barely able to keep still with the anger running hot through your veins. “I waited for four hours, Jaeyun. Four. Do you have any idea how humiliating that is? Standing around like an idiot, making up excuses for you when people asked where you were? All so you could do what? Kick a fucking ball around?”

Jaeyun’s breath catches in his throat. You’re really fucking mad.

“And for all I know, it wasn’t even that,” you continue, your voice trembling with something heavier than just anger. “Maybe you were with someone else. Maybe football was just an excuse.”

That makes him still, his spirit leaving his body completely. Cheat. That’s what you’re implying. That word, even unsaid, shatters something in him. 

His stomach knots painfully, bile rising in his throat at the mere suggestion. It feels like a slap, like a betrayal, even though he’s the one being accused. How could you think that? How could you even consider it? Had he not been obvious enough? Had he not loved you loudly enough? The thought alone makes him sick.

“Baby,” he exhales, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep his voice even despite the panic pressing against his ribs. “No. I swear, I was at practice. The coach wouldn’t let me leave-”

“Whatever, Jake.”

It’s not the words that cut him open. It’s the name. Jake.

Everyone calls him that. His friends, his teammates, teachers, even strangers. But you? Never. Not since the day he told you he liked being called Jaeyun better, especially from your lips. It was something small, something intimate, something that belonged only to you. But now, you’re just like everyone else.

“Go enjoy yourself,” you say coolly, turning back to Sunghoon. “I’m in the middle of a conversation. Can’t you see?”

Jaeyun follows your gaze, his jaw clenching when he sees the satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of Sunghoon’s lips. The guy looks pleased with himself, like he’s already won the game he’s been planning all along.

Jaeyun’s hands curl into fists at his sides as he walks away, defeated and charged with anger he doesn’t think he has ever felt flow through his bloodstream.

___

An hour or so later, he watches as Sunghoon shifts closer to you, his fingertips barely grazing your arm, his voice dipping lower as he says something that makes you laugh, tilting your head back just enough for it to sting. That laugh belongs to Jaeyun. He knows every version of it - the soft, sleepy one in the mornings, the unrestrained one when you find something so hilarious, the breathless, lovesick one you give only to him.

Except, tonight, you’re seemingly giving it to someone else.

He should walk out. He should let you cool off, let himself cool off. But when Sunghoon leans down, his lips dangerously close to yours, something inside Jaeyun snaps.

Without thinking, he strides forward, his arm sliding around your waist, tugging you against his chest before Sunghoon can move any closer. His lips find the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. It’s an act of possession, yes - but also a silent apology, a plea for you to stop this, to stop hurting him.

“Baby,” he murmurs, stretching the syllable out deliberately. He knows what it does to you. Knows you can’t ignore the sultry tone. “Can I give you your present now?”

You almost melt into his touch, the way he breathes out the petname makes your knees weak, and the press of his plump, pink lips on your neck makes you almost forgive him. But unfortunately for you, the shots are infiltrating the sensible part of your brain, no longer thinking clearly.

“Is it to leave me alone? Because I would love that.” You spit at him, causing the boy to loosen his grip and fall back slightly.

As soon as you turn around to look at him you instantly regret the words that escaped your lips. Jaeyun’s eyes are wide, his brain working overtime as his chest moves heavily, trying to calm his anxiety-shaken heart. 

The alcohol in your system is making you react in a completely opposite way to how you would. If sober you was alert she would be comforting Jaeyun and giving him a thousand kisses to apologise. But unfortunately drunk you is in charge and she is dangerous. 

“I need you to stop being so clingy, it's embarrassing.” Stop talking you scream at yourself, “Can’t you see I’m talking to someone?” For the love of god please shut up and apologise. 

Jaeyun doesn’t move. Transfixed with hurt at your pointed words. You know his insecurity when it comes to being clingy, often told from everyone how he is too much and too overbearing. Yet, you never thought that, not once.

Well, until today apparently.

“Oh.” It’s the only word that leaves his lips, and then suddenly, his expression shifts, his lips curling into something that almost resembles a smirk - but there’s no humour in it. Just something bitter, something cold. He nods, tongue pressing into his cheek before letting out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

“Hope you have fun fucking him.”

The words are low, venomous, and before you can even process them, he’s turning on his heel and walking away.

Your heart lurches. You’ve fucked up big time.

“Jaeyun,” you call after him, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn back to see how close you are. You push through the crowd, your heels clacking against the floor as you reach for his wrist, pulling at him. “Babe, please.”

He yanks his arm away as if your touch burns him as he continues his way out of your house and beginning his descent home. He can’t fucking believe this. Any of it.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out, breathless. “I didn’t mean it, Jaeyun.”

“Mean what?” His voice is low, but it holds an edge sharp enough to cut. “That I’m clingy? That you’d rather talk to Sunghoon? That you think I would ever cheat on you?”

The anger in his voice is a quiet thing, controlled, but it shakes you more than if he had yelled. You’ve never seen him like this. Never heard him sound so…broken.

“Okay, yes, I was late for your birthday, and believe me, Y/N, I am so fucking sorry. I tried to get away, and I couldn’t. But you? Flirting with him right in front of me?” His voice tightens, and he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “That’s a low I never expected from you.”

Your stomach knots. Shame creeps up your spine. Because he’s right. You knew exactly what you were doing. You bite your lip, willing yourself not to cry, not to fall apart in front of him. You want to reach for him, to kiss him, to take it all back. 

But the alcohol makes you reckless. Makes you cruel. It makes you not see sense.

“How am I supposed to know you aren’t going around with other people?” The words slip out before you can stop them. For fuck sake Y/N. Control. Your. Self. “Half of your football team was here on time, but suddenly the coach only wants you to stay behind? Fucking funny, that, isn’t it?”

Jaeyun lets out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “I fucking love you, Y/N. That should be enough for you to understand I’m not fucking anyone behind your back.” His voice softens slightly, but it’s strained, exhausted. “Do you not trust me? Have I ever given you a reason not to?”

Silence. He’s met with silence from your end as you stare blankly at him.

And that makes him furious. He had an ounce of faith you would deny it, to ensure him that you do trust him and none of his previous actions have ever made you doubt him or his love for you.

His jaw clenches and he swallows hard before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small, gift-wrapped box. The black box with a white ribbon looks less celebratory than it does pitiful now. With a sharp, forceful flick of his wrist, he throws it at your feet.

“Happy fucking birthday, Y/N.”

You flinch as the box lands with a soft thud. If only you had kept your fucking mouth shut all of this wouldn’t be happening. Tears wouldn’t be flowing down your cheeks and Jaeyun wouldn’t be feeling his heart break down into a million pieces.

Your hands tremble as you crouch down, fingers fumbling as you unwrap it slowly. Inside, nestled carefully, is a gold sun-shaped necklace with a rose quartz centre. Handmade, delicate. The date engraved on the back isn’t your birthday. It’s the day you first met.

Your throat and eyes feel like they are on fucking fire.

And by the time you lift your head, Jaeyun is gone.

He’s gone.

For the first time tonight, you feel completely and utterly sober.

___

You stand before Jaeyun’s front door, your breath uneven as your fingers tremble around the small black box in your grasp. The night air is biting against your skin, but the heat of regret burns hotter inside you. Each step you took here had been slow, your legs growing heavier with the thoughts circling your mind. But as much as guilt and sadness eat you up, you need to make things right. You cannot lose Jaeyun over this.

So, you don’t hesitate and your fist begins to pound against the wood with urgency, not caring who it woke up in his house.

You hear his footsteps almost immediately, quick but fed up, each one thudding against the stairs inside. His voice comes first, irritated but muffled through the door.

“Oh, my days-” he groans. “It’s like three in the bloody morning. What do you want?”

The lock turns before he’s even registered who it is. But when he sees you - red-faced, chest rising and falling too fast, dress bunched up at your thighs so short you might as well be wearing a belt to protect your dignity, tears spilling freely - it makes his entire body stiffen. 

“Y/N?”

You break.

It starts with a sharp inhale, a choked sob forcing its way out, and then suddenly, everything you’ve been holding in rushes forth.

“Jaeyun, I’m such a fucking idiot,” you cry, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to get them out. “I don’t even know why I said what I did - I know you would never cheat, I’ve always known that I was just drunk and - and stupid, and I was so mad that you were late, but it wasn’t even a big deal, not really, and I-” Your breath hitches between sobs. “I love you so much, please don’t break up with me.”

The pleas and explanations come out so fast that there is a delay from your lips to his brain. The silence between you leaves the words to marinate and your guilt to rise up again. Saying it outloud, how you acted like a baby all because he was late, really isn’t how you want to start this ‘new mature era’. 

You don’t know what you expect. Maybe the slam of the door, another dent in your pride. Maybe for him to look at you with the same intense fire in his eyes that he had hours ago. Maybe for him to tell you to fuck off back to your party which you consequently left behind because pretending to be happy in a room full of people you don’t know sounds less appealing than being sad in the presence of someone who knows you.

But Jaeyun just stands there, eyes softening as the corners of his lips lift into the smallest smile - fond, understanding, forgiving, like he’s already made peace with this somehow, even though he was the one that got hurt.

“Princess,” he murmurs affectionatley, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you in an almost crushing embrace.

The warmth of him is immediate, all-consuming. He smells like bitter citrus and patchouli from his perfume. He smells like home. His embrace is tight, unrelenting, like he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll slip away.

“I will never break up with you, baby.” A kiss to your forehead, lingering. “I’m not angry at you.” A kiss to your temple, reassuring. “I’m sorry if i’m too clingy.” A kiss to your cheek, gentle. “I love you so much.” A kiss to your lips, slow and unhurried, letting each sentence sit with you as a reassuring linger. 

You let yourself melt into him, hands clutching at his bare chest, grounding yourself in the steady rhythm of his heart against your own. The idea of never being able to hold him like this again haunts your anxiety; you almost lost him.

When you finally pull back, you shake your head, adamant that he has no reason to apologise. “You aren’t clingy, Jaeyun. I’m just an idiot.” Your voice wavers. “I love when you’re like that. I love it all the time. I was just…mad that you were late.”

He nods, biting his lip in thought - a habit of his you’ll never quite get over.

“I’m sorry I was late.” His forehead presses against yours, his breath fanning across your lips. Up close, you can see the remnants of tears in his eyes, the same way he sees them in yours. The weight of tonight sits on both of your chests, but the silence isn’t suffocating. It’s understanding. You both know there was better ways to handle the situation.

You don’t speak. Neither does he. You just look at each other, wordless, as if afraid saying anything more will break whatever fragile peace you’ve finally reached. Both of you are so scared of having the others heart ripped from your grasp.

Then, after a moment, Jaeyun leans in again, pressing another kiss to your lips, deeper this time, his hands finding purchase at your waist as he slowly guides you backwards into the house.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers against your mouth.

You nod, barely parting from him. “Okay.”

He leads you up the stairs quietly, careful not to wake his parents - though, it’s a miracle they slept through everything - shutting the bedroom door behind you as softly as he can. His room is only lit with the warm glow from his bedside lamp casting pretty shadows across his walls. 

Jaeyun looks down and notices the small black box still clutched in your hands.

“Did you like it?” His voice is hesitant, almost boyish. He spent so long picking out the perfect piece for your birthday. The sun represents everything you are to him. Bright, warm, electrifying, and his motivation to keep going because no matter the cold and rain that come, the sun will always come out to wash it all away. 

You follow his gaze, then nod as you left out a breath. “I love it,” you whisper. “Can you put it on me?”

He nods without a word, taking the box from you and carefully undoing the clasp. “Turn around, Princess.” 

You do as he says, your back to him, lifting your hair out of the way as he fastens the delicate chain around your neck. The gold is cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. But the chill doesn’t last, because before you can even react, Jaeyun’s lips press against the nape of your neck, featherlight and tender.

Another shiver racks over your body, but this one has nothing to do with the cold.

“Jaeyun,” you murmur, turning to face him. Your fingers trail down his chest, his toned stomach, stopping just above his waistband. Only now do you realise he’s only in his black boxers, his skin still slightly damp from his earlier shower. “Let me make it up to you.”

His breath stutters.

You glance up at him beneath your lashes, fingers toying with the lining of his underwear, waiting. His jaw tightens and his head tilts back oh so slightly, exposing the sharp lines of his apple. He wants this. You can feel it in the way his muscles contract beneath your touch, in the way his lips part ever so slightly, his breathing coming quicker as he processes your words.

“Baby, I don’t need you to do that.” Jaeyun’s heart is beating fast as you trace the outline of his cock with your pointer finger. He’s trying to defuse this situation without hurting your feelings. 

Trust, it’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s the opposite. But he doesn’t want to take advantage. Your emotions are pent up high, you might be feeling like you are obligated to do this as some sort of consolation act - also paired with the fact that you’re drunk - it doesn’t really mix well in his stomach.

“Y/N, I forgive you, there is no need to-”

What he isn’t aware of is that you aren’t listening to him, not a fucking syllable, because yes, you might be tipsy - mostly sober from the walk and adrenaline in your veins - you are also horny and need to just feel him. To be close to him. 

And how much closer can two people get with a cock and a mouth?

Your hand trespasses his boxers and begins to lightly stroke his shaft, making him mutter an almost inaudible ‘fuck’, his lip finding it’s way between his pretty teeth.

Once you see him give way to apprehension, you use your free hand to guide him to sit on the gaming chair, letting him fall back with a thud as he tries to focus on balance rather than your hand wrapped around his growing member. 

“Relax, Jaeyun. Let me do this. I need to taste you.” Your voice is low and has a hoarseness to it that lets him know you’re more than needy. He could cum right there and then as his mind conjures up images and fantasies of what you’re about to do. 

You slide his boxers off, slapping the side of his thigh so he will lift his bum off the chair. “I’ve missed your cock so much.”

Jaeyun laughs at that, huffing it out with a breath he was holding in, obliging to your request. “We literally fucked yesterday.” 

“Technically,” you point at the clock sitting coincidentally on his desk as it reads 3:27am, “it was 2 days ago. And I didn’t even get the celebratory cliche birthday sex.” 

Pouting, you look up at him in an almost begging gesture, knowing the scene in front your boyfriend is enough for him to shutdown and implement meltdown mode. You are so beautiful in every way to him - even spite of the tear-stained cheeks and mascara smudging - but right now you look so deliciously irresistible.

His hand comes to cup your cheek as his thumb wipes away some of the running makeup from your face, his gaze locked onto yours with admiration and pure love. It’s so innocent despite the lust weaving into his blood. 

“You’re so lovely” he whispers, smiling gently at the love of his life. “Lovely people deserve to get fucked on their birthday, yeah?”

There it is, the Jaeyun you were waiting for. And the permission you needed to take his cock in your mouth. With a smirk, you kiss his bell before engulfing it, letting the taste of him simmer on your buds.

It catches him off guard and his hands instinctively move to your hair, gripping like a lifeline. “Fuck, Princess you’re so beautiful like this.” He looks down at you with hooded eyes, admiration and desire flooding his pupils as they dilate, love evident. 

You bob your head up and down, going faster with the praise. Each time you work your lips up his length, you swirl your tongue around the tip, dipping into his slit every second time to create a teasing and torturous rhyth. You know everything that make Jaeyun feel pleasure; every vein that’s more sensitive than the other, every flick of your tongue or tantalising bite of your teeth just to keep him on edge. 

Over the past few years, you’ve learned and memorised each other's bodies, likes and dislikes. You are convinced no one could ever know you the way Jaeyun does. Not in body and certainly not in spirit. 

A few weeks ago you walked in on Jaeyun jerking off, phone in hand and ass levitating off his bed as he lost himself in the pumps of his fist. Once his eyes locked with yours, he threw his phone away and apologised a million times. You’re not the type of girlfriend that has an issue with her boyfriend watching porn, you have obviously done it too sometimes, like if he’s away for the weekend to football training. Jaeyun watching porn wasn’t exactly shocking or upsetting.

What you did feel though was curiosity. As you picked up the phone, the girl was giving overly enthusiastic head, gagging and dribbling as the man fucked his cock into her mouth. You have never done anything like that before, Jaeyun always holds back thrusting his hips up so as to not cause you pain or discomfort. 

But seeing the lewd act on the tiny screen…you wanted it.

So today, you were going to give him everything you got. Apologies can’t be half-arsed, right?

You smile and lift your bum from your feet so your mouth is hovering over his cock at a higher angle, trying. Smirking, your eyes meet his and you take his full length in your mouth, gagging as the tip breaches the back of your throat, kissing your tonsils like they were long lost lovers.

“Baby, be careful,” he hisses, gripping your hair as he tries to pry you off. Jaeyun is always attentive, always caring, but right now you need to see him lose control. 

So, despite his attempts to separate you from his shaft, you don’t budge, Rather, you sit with his dick in your mouth and swallow, closing your throat around his head - a trick that wasn’t easy to master, many attempts on a plastic dildo failed, but you knew you had to try. 

And thank fuck you did because as your throat pinches the tip and it sucks at his slit, he moans so loudly you’re scared his parents will hear from their room. He groans, legs elivated slightly as his body tries to reach the pearl gates, not understanding that heaven is between his legs right now. He has never felt anything like this before.

“Fuck, baby, where did you learn that?”

Instead of giving him an answer, you work your mouth up and down his cock again, not giving him that euphoria again and only teasing it every so often. You can’t let him get used to it, not just yet. You have a funny feeling that this will come in handy for the years to come, a bargaining tool of sorts.

You pinch his thighs a little, eliciting a his from his mouth and a jerk from his hips. Jaeyun slams his cock into the back of your throat, unforgiving and totally by accident. He’s so gone in the haze of your warm mouth enveloping him that he takes a second to realise what he done. 

“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry,” he apologises, resting his ass back on the seat and patting your head to soothe you. Yet, surprisingly, you don’t protest or grumble - you simply moan, trying to let him know that's what you want, what you need. 

So, you pinch him again and thankfully, he gets the memo. “Oh? Does my baby want me to fuck her pretty little mouth?” His tone is cocky albeit breathless in composition, his semi-fucked out flush only adding to his filth.

You’re dripping at even just the thought and hum around him in acknowledgment, the vibrations going straight to his heart. 

He leans down and pulls you off his cock gently, a fist full of hair that could easily hurt you, yet, his touch is so tender the roots hardly yank from the scalp. “Tell me you want it. Say it.”

You blush, biting your lips together as you gather the courage to utter the words into the heated air. You’re confident, especially around him, but there’s something so vulnerable about wanting to be used like that, that makes it a little harder to speak. 

“I-I want you to fuck my throat until I can’t speak anymore.” 

A groan leaves his body and his jaw tightens in primal desire. You’re perfect. He will never understand where you came from, or how he has the honour to live out this lifetime with you, but he is so thankful and makes a silent promise to anyone above that he will never ever take it for granted. “If it gets too much just tap my leg three times okay, baby? No matter what. If it hurts, if you need air, let me know,” he mutters into your lips as he kisses you gently. It's so tender and loving. But you know you’re about to get a completely different Jaeyun in two seconds.

You could not be more excited.

Standing up, he squeezes your cheeks with his middle finger and thumb to get your mouth to open once again. His dick is red and frustrated, multiple veins protruding around the shaft. You’re starving for it even though you’ve been devouring him for the past 15 minutes - that’s just how addicting he is. 

Placing his cock in your mouth you take him all in as he slowly thrusts. You can see he is trying to be gentle, testing the waters of how much you can really take. Sometimes, your eyes are bigger than your belly, and he has no problem giving you just enough to satusufy this craving without overfeeding you.

But he is going too slow, too careful; so you meet his thrusts, sucking up and down at an altered timing so his cock jabs your throat forcefully.. 

“My baby,” he breathlessly moans, watching you work for more. As much as he loves to see it, for both of you to truly experience this for all that it should be, he needs to let go of his apprehension of hurting you and just give you everything he has.

He picks up the pace, his tip battering against your throat with fervour - and you love every second of it. You hum in pleasure around him as he pounds faster into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as each thrust indicates the loss of control from the boy powering over you. 

“Y/N you’re so fucking good to me, such a perfect girl,” he moans from the depths of his chest and his thrusts become erratic, sloppy, as he gets closer to his high. Your mouth is a miracle worker but your throat is a devine intervention. He can feel the stretch of your canal around him, barely fitting him in as you gag and gurgle.

Your hands reach around to to his ass and squeeze, causing him to sink further into you - if that is even possible. The tip of his cock is sitting in the middle of your throat, like a caterpillar waiting to bloom into the butterfly it’s destined to be. 

That’s when you try to swallow again - although with some difficulty - and clamp around him. Your boyfriend’s reaction is immediate as he hunches over, fingers twisted in your hair as he roars out in pleasure. “Jesus, fuck…fuck!” 

He quickly draws you from his cock, taking a few steps back himself just as you were about to taste the sweet tang of his cum. Your anxious nerve peaks once again, scared that you’ve done something to upset him or taken it too far.

“Jaeyun what’s wrong?” Your voice is as steady as you can make it as you utter the question.

Every perspective, he sees your worried stare and shakes his head. Within a second, he is bent down so you are eye level, patting your hair in a reassuring gesture. “I need to cum inside you, princess, that’s all. You did so fucking well…you’ve been holding out on me all these years.” 

His words which are laced with humour and certainty calm you instantly, body no longer running cold with regret or guilt. Cupping your cheek with his roasting palm, he slowly guides you both up to stand, his mouth never leaving yours as his tongue strokes yours messily. He breathes new life into you, beautiful and serene.

“Such a pretty dress,” he states admiringly as he lays you down on the bed. “As soon as I saw you in it I knew I had to fuck you while you wear it.” Jaeyun hikes up the dress so it sits above your hips, exposing your red underwear, his favourite. “All for me, yeah?” His fingers lightly graze your slit over the lace. 

“Everything is for you,” you exhale earnestly, a smile etching onto your face as you take in his puffy features. He looks so delicate and vulnerable, wearing all his emotions on his skin. 

The loving confession makes his heart swell in his chest. He loves you with every fibre of his being and he will until the end of time. 

Pushing your panties to the side, he slips his finger between your folds, not quite pushing inside of you but teasing - much to your dismay - and he can feel just how wet you are. It’s like he’s just set off a firehydrant in the summer; and he is more than ready to get soaked beneath it.

Just as he goes to slip his middle finger inside of you, you grab his wrist, whining and shaking your head, pausing him in his actions.

“Just fuck me, Jaeyun. Please.” Your eyes land on his cautious ones. He hasn’t prepped you yet and you both know it’s already a struggle to make him fit when he’s stretched you open, nevermind plunging in without some semblance of stretch. “I can’t wait for your cock any longer.” Frustration is laced within every word and your body acts as a tangible demonstration of your need as it writhes or some attention.

Seeing you so depserate, Jaeyun can do nothing but yield to you, nodding as he immediately takes a condom from his stash and slides it on with urgency. His sensitive tip colliding with the rubber makes him wince. With the way you’re splayed out below him, mixed with the cum sitting right at the barrel of his dick, he’s not convinced he wont bust as soon as your tightness encapsulates him.   

Nevertheless, he looks for lube but can’t find his usual tube, the crystal blue bottle evading his sight. 

You watch him search, frustration building as time ticks by. Impatient and leaking, you take the opportunity to shuffle down on the bed, grab his cock, and guide it to your entrance. 

Whipping his head around, Jaeyun has shock plastered on his face, but it is quickly switched to one filled with pure lust as you push down on his tip. “Princess can’t wait ,huh?” His question is rhetorical and mischievous as he relishes in how worked up you’re getting.

You eagerly shake your head as you push him in further, the bell sinking past your hole and opening you up for the rest of him. The stretch isn’t as painful as you thought due to how turned on you are, your walls so fucking eager to be filled that they glad accept his presence. 

“You’re the death of me, Y/N,” your boyfriend moans as he pushes himself fully into you, bottoming out slowly, still cautious of causing you pain.

“I need you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you mewl in a high pitched breath.

And who was he to deny you? It was your birthday after all, even if it wasn’t technically within the time frame. The blur between the late night and early morning allowing you both to still celebrate together. 

His hips begin to quicken, ass tightening with each sharp thrust as he pierces right through you. Your back is arched off the bed as he grips your hips and picks you up, hitting at that angle he knows gets you to the peak of your mountain. 

“Right there, baby! So, so good.” Your encouraging words spur him on to find a smooth albeit forceful rhythm as he jackhammers into you. His bed snapping against the wall with his brutal force.

He hovers over you, one elbow on the bed to hold him steady while his free hand pulls at your dress and yanks it down, exposing your bouncing tits. He gasps at the sight; jiggling and inviting, faint red marks from the last time he marked your body with his signature. 

For some reason, his mind takes him back to the party - how Sunghoon’s hands were all over you, touching you and trying to claim you. It makes him mad, hurt, down right deranged. 

He will never let anyone touch you every again. It’s only him. It will only every be him.

“Tell me I’m the only one,” he mutters as he kisses your neck, vulnerability goosepimpling over every part of his skin. To think that you could be taken away by someone else makes his heartbreak, he needs the reassurance, the promise, that you won’t leave him.

Bringing his head up and cupping his cheek you stare lovingly into his eyes as your guilty ones gaze back. “You’ll always be the only one. I don’t want anyone else. I need you. Only ever you.” 

Jaeyun’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he practically growls at your words, picking up the pace again, hammering into you all of his love and staking claim over you. You are his and he is yours. 

You’re trying not to moan loudly but he’s hitting all the right spots and it’s got you gasping for air, your lungs begging for a lick of oxygen that has been stolen due to your boyfriend’s touch. His hands are roaming your body, gripping and grasping at every part of you as he grounds himself with the feeling of you. The action will leave bruises and he’ll apologise in the morning but right now he just needs to feel you.

“Even if Sunghoon wanted you?” he asks quietly, still feeling that anxiety sit at the tip of his heart. He believes you, he knows when you say that he is the only one you want - you mean it. But his head speaks before he can stop himself, craving constant reassurance despite his trust in you.

You shake your head immediately. Never for a second would you even spare any time of day for the other, not when you had Jaeyun. You were going to have serious words with yourself once you’re done and curse yourself for even entertaining Sunghoon for a second - drunk or not. You made Jaeyun feel insecure, you’re the reason he’s doubting himself like this.  

“He could never love me the way you do,” you bring your lips to his ear, “and he certainly couldn’t fuck me the way you do.” 

Pure fire and passion rise through Jaeyun’s body and he piledrives into you at an unrelenting spead, eliciting a high pitched whine from your lips. He places your legs on his shoulders and drives in deeper, kissing your deepest crevice with the tip of him. 

“You take me so well, princess. I love you so fucking much.” Jaeyun might have been fucking you like he was a man possessed to ruin you, but his kind and nurturing personality will always come through.

He was perfect.

You clench around him, “Jaeyun, babe, I’m so close,” you pant out in ache as your nails begin digging into his arms, clawing at him to find some semblance of reality. You’re losing yourself to the stars with each stroke.

“Me too, baby.” he kisses you gently, “cum around my cock, show me how good I make you feel.” 

His dirty words strum the last string of your banjo as you come undone around his cock, your cunt squeezing and sucking him in like it needs him to be a permenant fixture inside of you. You chant his name into his neck as you bury your head, inhaling his scent as you finally lose yourself to your orgasm. 

Not letting up, Jaeyun still pounds into you, determined to fuck you though your high. “Good girl.” he mumbles into a kiss he plants lovingly into your hair. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling into the condom, filling it up the way he wishes he could you. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m cumming, baby,” he bellows out, his grunts loud and swimming in an aching desperation as his hips still, holding you firmly onto him. 

Jaeyun’s lips move lazily against your damp skin, whispering soft I love yous in between the featherlight kisses trailing down your neck. He doesn’t want this moment to end - the warmth, the closeness, the way your bodies are tangled together in a haze of love and breathless exhaustion.

His hold on you tightens as he exhales shakily, his body shuddering as the last waves of pleasure run through him. His cock twitches one final time before he slips out of you, discarding the used rubber to his bin, aiming half-hazardly. He doesn’t like even this tiny bit of separation, so he quickly recovers, nuzzling against your chest, mouth ghosting over your heart as though he can soak in every ounce of love you have for him through the mere touch of his mlips.

Your fingers slip into his hair, stroking gently. “I love you, Jaeyun,” you murmur, voice still heavy with sleepiness and satisfaction.

Jaeyun lifts his head, his puppy brown eyes locking onto yours, filled with overwhelming love. Unwavering, unfiltered, and so deep that you can feel it crawl into your bones.

He smiles softly, almost shy, like he’s just as caught up in the weight of this moment the same as you. “I love you too, angel. So fucking much.” His voice is thick and before you can say anything else, he kisses you, slow and deep, sealing a silent promise between you both. “Let’s never fight again.”

You giggle against his lips, arms looping around his shoulders. “Never like that again.”

Just as Jaeyun presses his forehead to yours, basking your shared, tender moment, the door slams open.

“Sim Jaeyun, if you have a girl in here-”

Jaeyun’s dad’s voice cuts through the air like a knife, and time itself seems to halt.

Jaeyun yelps, moving at a record speed to grab the blanket and throw it over you to hide you completely, his body shielding yours from his dad’s intrusive gaze. Your entire face burns with mortification as you scramble to tuck yourself into the covers and laying still, wishing more than anything that the bed would just swallow you whole. You knew you were being loud but jesus fuck you thought Jaeyun would have at least locked the door.

His dad freezes in the doorway, eyes flickering between his son’s horrified expression and the very obvious lump beneath the blanket. 

“I told you, no girls in your room except, Y/N!”

Oh, the irony.

You peek your head out just enough to meet his gaze, offering the world’s most awkward wave. “Hi, Mr. Sim. How’s it going?”

Shocked, his dad stumbling back slightly. He was oblivious to your relationship even if he did have a sneaking suspicion. He just never thought this would be how he confirms it.

Jaeyun groans. “Dad, can you please leave?” His voice is strangled, his hands clutching the blanket for dear life. He’s always been so careful; made sure to be quiet, to lock the door, to never get caught. But you both just got too caught up in the moment that every other thing that existed outwith the two of you just…evaporated.

His dad pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “How long have you…how long has this been going on?”

Jaeyun swallows, refusing to meet his father’s eyes. “Uh. Two years.”

“Two years?” His dad’s voice pitches slightly, incredulous. “You’ve been dating for two years and you never told us?”

You chew on your lip, feeling the heat of embarrassment settle over your skin. Jaeyun, sensing your discomfort, slides his hand under the blanket to squeeze yours reassuringly.

“Dad, we weren’t trying to keep it a secret,” Jaeyun says, voice calmer now, steady. “It just…happened. And then the longer we waited, the weirder it felt to bring it up.”

Mr. Sim scoffs, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. You know we wouldn’t have stopped you from dating, right?” His tone softens as his eyes drift back to you. “And Y/N-”

You stiffen slightly, bracing yourself whatever scolding he has in store.

But instead of a lecture, a small smile tugs at his lips. “You know you’re like the daughter I always wanted.”

Your chest tightens with fondness. You’ve always been close to Jaeyun’s family - you practically live at his house at this point. His parents know your favourite food and snacks - keeping an army of them in their pantry. They understand your weird little habits like having thin cutlery or a certain glass depending on the drink and temperature. They invite you over for Christmas Eve, they comfort you when you’re upset. They love you. And deep down, you’ve always known you had their approval.

Still, hearing it out loud makes your eyes sting.

“Thank you, Mr. Sim.” Your voice is small, but sincere.

He nods, before letting out a tired sigh as he turns his attention back to Jaeyun. “Alright, get some sleep. I’ll talk to your mum about this. Hopefully she wont burst in with wedding books.” The joke lands flat because all of you know that it is not a joke. Jaeyun’s mother is typically fond of you and all three of you know that if she can make you officially part of her family, she will do it in an instant.

Mr. Sim turns to leave but pauses, glancing back at you. “And Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Please tell your parents.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure they’ll take it well…”

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s already gone, closing the door behind him.

For a second, there’s silence. Then Jaeyun breaks it with a wheeze..

“Oh my god,” he gasps, clutching his stomach as laughter shakes his entire body. “That was…that was-” He dissolves into another fit of laughter, eyes tearing up in hilarity.

But you fail to see the funny side as you smack his chest, mortified beyond belief. “I am never coming back here again.” You bury yourself under the blanket, groaning.

Jaeyun grins, pulling you closer. “You’re literally my girlfriend. You have to come back.”

“Not if your dad kills me first for waking him up.”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Nah didn’t you hear? You’re the daughter he never had.”

It tickles your heart as he mutter the words into your hair. Despite the embarrassment, your heart feels giddy - full. All the weight you’ve been carrying regarding the sneaking around and also the fight between you and the boy holding you close is all vanished. Gone. 

It makes you realise that you can overcome anything with Jaeyun.

You spend the rest of the night curled up in Jaeyun’s arms, tangled together beneath the sheets, whispering drowsy confessions of love until sleep finally pulls you under.

When you wake up the next morning, sunlight spills into the room, casting a golden glow over Jaeyun’s peaceful, smiling face. His lashes flutter slightly, his lips parted as he breathes in and out steadily. You watch him for a moment, warmth blooming in your chest like daffodils in spring.

Jaeyun’s phone vibrates at the desk and you quickly crawl over to retrieve it. You’re not one to pry but you see the seconder of the text before the content and immediately run cold.

Your mum.

2nd mumma: Your mum called and told me about you and Y/N. You are NEVER allowed to sleep over again, do you hear me? I am so angry that you both kept this from me

…Three dots appear. Then another message.

2nd mumma: I’m happy for you both. I love you. Come to dinner tonight so we can celebrate.

A small laugh escapes you as you snuggle deeper into Jaeyun’s embrace, letting the moment wash over you.

You’ve never been happier.

Lets hope you can keep it this way…

______

taglist: @yzzyhee @dollyyun @sunpov @dreamy-carat

@ioveseong @katarinamae @viagumi @jakeswifez

@shuichi-sama @m1kkso @no1likeneo @pshfan0812

@fancypeacepersona @hoonieyun @jaepen @lovingvoidgoatee

@parksunghoonsgf @capri-cuntz @yvnempire @mei3425

@enhastolemyheart @ikeulove @riribelle @nshmrarki

@firstclassjaylee @ikeuwoniee @ang0308 @jaykesgirl @addictedtohobi

[dae-hos-wife]

DaeHo x Reader headcanons !!

(sfw/nsfw)

Warnings: slight breeding kink mentioned, slight roughness, markings and jealousness :3

Sfw !

This man LOVES cuddles and no one can tell me otherwise.

He loves putting his chin on your head (if your shorter) it makes him feel special in a way.

He has nightmares, (obviously) the time at the marines, also the obvious horrors of the games has caused his mental health a huge decline.

He loves you hugging him and comforting him when he wakes up from those nightmares. Yet crying makes him feel less of a man. (Reader! Assures him they have no problem with him crying.)

Spooning is his favorite cuddle position, alongside when your straddling him, and he can dig his nose into your neck :3

He LOVES your smell, you always smell good to him, no matter if it's your natural scent or a perfume/ cologne. He adores it. And maybe gets him worked up.

He loves being silly with you, like playing with you or anything along those lines.

He likes to tease you and loves being teased back. (It makes him feel flustered)

NSFW !!

[cut below]

Has a breeding kink. Definitely has a breeding kink.

He loves making you 'his.' whether it be cumming deep inside, or biting and marking your neck until your a love drunk mess.

He loves cumming inside you and loves feeling you squeeze around him when it comes to you orgasming. :3

Soft!Dom daeho is canon idc

He'd talk you through it and praise you as if you were the most precious thing on earth.

"shh, your doing so well..", "I'm so, so proud of you..", "you can take another load..I promise I'll look after you."

He eats you out like a man starved, savoring and lapping up your juices as if they were water and he was dying of thirst.

You don't "fuck" with him, you make love, and he loves to prove to you that he thinks your a god/goddess in his eyes.

If reader! Is chubby he LOVES THAT. He loves grabbing onto your love handles or whenever your cuddling he adores snuggling in your chest.

He's a tit guy. DEFINITELY a tit guy. Nothing turns him on more than a good tit fuck :3

[wizard-of-interesting-failure]

"I don't understand. Why isn't he getting up?"

"Wh- you killed him!"

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"You cast Finger of Death!"

"I cast Lightning Bolt too; they name spells after fake shit all the time."

"Lightning is real too!!"

"Oh come on. Next you'll be telling me color is a thing."

"...have you ever actually been outside this cavern?"

"What's a cavern?"

"It's where we are right now!"

"Odd name for it, but yes, of course I have. Been this way, that way, through there is a lovely group of giant spiders..."

"We, ah. Might have killed those on our way here."

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"...right. Where do you think we came from?"

"Eh, somewhere. Weird shit shows up all the time."

"I-"

"Oh! Your friend there startled me and it totally slipped my mind; would you care for some tea? I don't drink it myself, but I keep some on hand for guests."

"...okay, listen. These are the Caverns of Chaos. Everything in here is self-replenishing. The prevailing theory was that they existed to protect a central chamber. We've spent weeks down here slogging through unimaginable horrors to make it there and you're going to, what, play dumb?"

"Okay now you're just being rude. I am not dumb! There might not be much to do around here, but I do my best to keep my mind sharp. I'd like to see you figure out as much as I have about the ever-shifting layout of the world!"

"We did! That's how we got here! Have you never tried scrying the outside?"

"Scrying spells are some sort of prank, best I can tell; they never seem to do anything except give me a headache."

"Cast one up."

"I don't really want to give myself a-"

"Just do it! At least 2000 meters."

"Alright, but I don't see...what..."

"..."

"...colors?"

"Yeah, the whole dungeon is monochrome for some reason, we think-"

"Lightning?"

"Well, if there's a storm, I suppose-"

"Death?"

"...death?"

"There's...more like your friend."

"What do you mean-"

"Why aren't they moving?"

"I don't-"

"I'm moving. I can move. See? They look like me. Why aren't they moving?"

"They're- there are skeletons? We just came from-"

"Am I going to stop moving?"

"No, you-"

"Why isn't your friend moving?"

"..."

"...he's...'dead'. Isn't he. I 'killed' him."

"...listen, just calm down, we can-"

"Oh, yes, of course! I could never figure out what these spells for making 'un-dead' were for, but they must be for fixing this! I'll just-"

"NO!"

"But he's-"

"We're handling it!"

"No you're not! Whatever you're doing, it's not working."

"How can you-"

"You're trying to draw power from something that's not there. I've done it a few times, don't feel bad, it's a common mistake."

"I'm drawing power from my goddess! There's no way she's..."

"What is a goddess? Is it that little symbol you're carrying around? It doesn't seem to have any power in it."

"...it...why can't I feel her?"

"Just let me do it, I can-"

"We're not letting you turn Steve into some kind of undead abomination!"

"Wh- but he wasn't dead before!"

"He was alive, you stupid thing!"

"Right, not dead. Un-dead. I'll just make him un-dead again and then we can..."

"Why has she forsaken me?"

"We can..."

"Why won't she answer??"

"Color...lightning...death..."

audible weeping

"They're like me...why aren't they moving?"

"It's probably just the Caves messing with the divine connection, we should-"

"Should I not be moving?"

extended wailing

"Is un-dead not like 'alive'?"

"Listen, I know we didn't have this problem before, but-"

"Is there something wrong with being un-dead?"

"OF COURSE THERE IS, YOU STUPID UNDEAD THING! STEVE IS DEAD, THE GODDESS WON'T LISTEN TO ME, AND YOU'RE JUST...just..."

"...just what?"

"..."

"What am I?"

"..."

"WHAT AM I???"

the cavern shakes

"Listen, just calm down, we'll-"

"Why is he dead? Why are they all dead?"

"All wh-"

"The ones you made me scry on!"

"Oh my god, we forgot about-"

"Why aren't they moving??"

"We don't know! What else did you see?"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"What else??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the lich collapses into a fetal position, rocking back and forth

"Listen, this is important, you need to-"

someone attempts to shake the lich. A sudden pulse of darkness slams them into the opposite wall.

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"Just calm down, we can-"

"GODDESS? WHERE ARE YOU??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the party leader buries her face in her hands. The healer weeps and wails. The lich, seemingly catatonic, continues mumbling to himself. This goes on for a while.

"..."

"Right. Okay. That's enough of this. We're taking Steve's body and leaving. We wouldn't have a chance against a lich in this state anyway. Keep trying to revive him as we go, we'll-"

"...lich?"

"Yes, yes, you don't know anything about anything, it's very funny, har har, we're done here. Go back to giving yourself headaches or whatever it is you do all day."

"I'm coming with you."

"...what?"

"You know what I am. You know about places that aren't 'caverns'. You know about colors, lightning, and death. I need to come with you."

"No offence, buddy, but you don't exactly seem like adventuring material."

"Please! Don't you need to find out why all those people are...'dead'? I can speak with dead, I guess, if it's a real thing."

"..."

"We are not taking this THING that killed Steve with us!"

"...we probably are going to need help with whatever is going on up there."

"He might be lying!"

the party leader gestures at the utterly guileless lich. The healer turns away.

"...fine."

"Thank you."

"Just...keep him away from me."

The party improvises a stretcher as the lich gathers up his meager possessions. A thick silence reigns as the group shuffles out the only exit, the lich awkwardly following at a distance.

"Wait, I forgot my maps-"

"We'll be fine. Just stay back there, okay? You've caused enough trouble for one day."

Nodding hesitantly, the lich steps over the threshold, leaving his cavern for the last time.

It turns out that the lich the adventurers had been hired to slay had never actually killed anyone before until the impulsive paladin of the group swung first. Now, as the healer tries to revive them, the rest have to calm the ancient undead mage down from what is undeniably a panic attack.

[queenbee298]

Poppy playtime x Gender Neutral reader! “Finally Free” Part 1

I feel like making a story on poppy playtime chapter 4 like if we escaped with Doey, Poppy, Kissy Missy, and the mini critters. Like if you take them to your home and gave them a real dinner. P.S. don’t judge this story, this is my first story I’m writing on this app. But let’s begin.

——————————————————————————

It was all over…It was finally…You escaped the factory… The fighting, the death, the chaos, the pain, and horrors of the Playtime Factory was over.

Poppy: “It was all over…You escaped the factory…

Poppy shouted. Happy tears falling from her face as she hugged Kissy. Kissy hugged Poppy backed. She cried tears of joy, evening if she was always smiling, now that she was out of the factory and away with the Prototype, she felt happy and free.

Y/N: “Now it’s all over. How are you feeling, Doey?”

You question your colorful friend, but he didn’t answer. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind. He was free, away from the Doctor, the Prototype, and now he’s with his friends.

The children possessing the giant mount of dough were over the moon knowing they were free from the factory. Tears fell from his faces and the little critter’s attention were on their doughy friend.

Bobby Bearhug toy: “Doey, are you okay?”

Doey snapped out of thoughts and looked down to the little critters.

Doey: “Oh! I’m fine. I’m just so happy to be out of the factory.”

Hoppy Hopscotch toy: “Where do we go now?”

Doey paused. He didn’t have know what to do after they escaped, but before he could answer, you spoke.

Y/n: “You guys can live with me.”

The toy’s attention was on you.

Poppy: “Y-Y/N? Are you serious?”

Now let’s continue

Y/N: “Yes, I don’t want you guys to get hurt or the be separated from each other. Plus you’ve all been through so much in the factory. I want you all to have a real home.”

The toys were speechless. It was silent for a minute or two. The toys squeezed you into a big hug. You were taken aback from the hug, but it was nice.

Poppy: “You really are angel.”

After a minute of the hug, you broke free.

Y/N: “C’mon, let’s go home.”

You took out your car keys, that you somehow didn’t lose in the factory. You unlocked the car and hopped into the car with Kissy, Poppy, and the mini smiling critters in the back. Doey sat in the passenger seat between you. Now to let’s go home. The car ride home was interesting.

The mini critters were looking out the window, gazing at the scenery of the sunset. The mini critters were little children and happen seen daylight in years, Poppy and Kissy were fast asleep, holding each other. Before you escaped the factory you managed to patch up Kissy’s injuries when you were in Safe Haven. Doey’s was looking at you, with a frown on his face.

Y/N: “Doey, what’s on your mind?”

Doey: “Nothing, I’m just… I’m just want to say thank you. For letting us live with you and helping us escape the factory, Angel.”

Y/N: “ No problem, big fella.

20 minutes later, you were home. You had a house in the woods, away from civilization. It was big enough for your new family.

Y/N: “Home sweet home. Guys wake up, we’re here.”

You unlocked the car and you and Doey hopped out the car.

Kissy and Poppy woke up. You opened the door for Kissy, Poppy and the mini critters. They stared at your house.

Poppy: “It’s so beautiful.”

Kissy nodded her head in agreement.

Y/N: “Thanks guys. Come guys, let’s go.”

You and your new family walked to the door. You unlocked the door and entered your home. The toys looked around your house, seeing pictures of you with family and some friends, a lovely living room, and more. The mini critters ran around the living room, bouncing on the couch and staring at your pictures.

Doey: “You’re house is so pretty, buddy!”

Poppy: “I’ve never seen a house so beautiful.”

Y/N: “ Thanks guys. Now I need to put somethings together, so why don’t you get make yourselves at home?”

You took the TV remote and changed to nickelodeon. SpongeBob SquarePants was playing and the little critter, Poppy, Kissy, and Doey sat front of TV. While they were distracted, you went to the kitchen. You knew the toys were hungry after all those years in the factory.

You looked in your refrigerator and saw there was not enough food for all of them. You sighed, wondering what to do, but you saw a pizza flyer on your fridge and decided some pizza wouldn’t hurt. You called the number on the flyer and ordered 2 large pizza’s. Your pizza would be ready in 30 minutes.You went up upstairs to prepare the money and a tip for the pizza man.

You looked back to see the toys still watching TV and singing to the theme song.

You went back into the living room with the toys. Sometime passed and some critters were still watching TV, Kissy and Poppy were talking. And Doey was playing with some critters. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The toys froze in fear, not knowing who or what it was. Doey stood up to protect you and the toys and fight. You stood up knowing who it was.

Poppy: “Y/N! Wait! You don’t know how that could be!”

Y/N: “Relax, it’s just the pizza man.”

Toys: “Pizza?” Kissy tilted her head in confusion.

You opened the door, paid, grabbed your pizza’s, and headed for the kitchen and the toys followed. You prepared plates, drinks and napkins. You set plates of pizza and glasses of juice.

Y/N: “Come and eat guys.”

Kissy and Doey sat on the chairs, while you placed books on the chairs for Poppy and the mini critters.

Y/N: “Bon appétit, guys.”

The toys begin eating and I swear they were hungrier than you thought. They demolished the pizza. The mini critters were so happy they got pizza after all those years in the factory. Kissy enjoyed the pizza too, but it freaked you out to see just how sharp her teeth were.

Doey: “ Now that really hits the spot. This is so more better than the piano dinosaur.”

Poppy: “Angel, I can’t even thank you enough for all of this. Saving us, letting us into your home, feeding us. You’re a true angel.”

Y/N: “Thank you, Poppy. You guys deserve this and I promise I’ll keep you guys safe.”

[kamospeach]

too many white lies and white lines .ᐟ

plot: bestfriend!satoru helps his best friend get over her crush on Ryomen Sukuna

content warning: angst, mentinos of: drug and alcohol use, violence, fingering, oral f!recieving, piv sex, domestic violence

peachy's yap: wc 1.2k.ᐟ no thoughts except Gojo. this just a short little thought! just tryna clear out my drafts sighhh.

bestfriend!satoru who can't fathom why you're not together already. who waits for you, anywhere at any time, no matter how weird-looking or sketchy it is.

bestfriend!satoru shows his love by holding you in his arms during group movie nights or having you sit in his lap when there were more than enough seats. or when he kissed your cheek when you were leaving his house to go down the street to yours.

bestfriend!satoru knew you didn't see him like that, and you didn't feel the butterflies like you felt with sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru understood how you felt, ryo was tall and muscular and totally your type.

bestfriend!satoru, suguru, and you who were born in the same year. your parents were best friends and made you all have a tight-knit friendship. years later, you acquired more friends like shoko, utahime, sukuna, and kento, who always brought along haibara.

bestfriend!satoru and suguru's would drive you all to a party or even a small diner that was open late at night. tonight you were all heading to a club which was a new scene for you. you used this as an an opportunity to seduce sukuna into wanting you.

bestfriend!satoru was forced to sit in the front with utahime. you clung onto sukuna's muscular arm, staring up at his chiseled jawline with heart eyes. you even follow behind him as you walk to the front door of the club. but sukuna made it obvious you weren't his interest. he's feet in front of you as you talk to the back of his head.

bestfriend!satoru knows of your energy-depleting crush on sukuna. his arm snakes around your waist placing a kiss on your forehead in comfort. you once again not noticing the gesture was romantic and not platonic.

"you think he'll ever notice me satoru?" you asked and he shook his head.

"i don't think so, love. ryo only treats women as toys it's better you don't get involved with him anyway. i'm sorry to disappoint you."

bestfriend!satoru rubs small circles on the exposed skin of where he held your waist. you both walked into the club, of course, on the VIP list due to the status you all held. 

"well i just thought maybe since we've been friends for so long, he'd treat me... differently," you admitted and he nodded. satoru hated to admit it but you were bringing the mood down.

"hey let's not think about it okay? we wanted a night out so let's enjoy it." he smiled and you nodded walking in sitting in the section.

bestfriend!satoru said to enjoy it but this is not what you thought he meant. the coke, the shots of liquor that never stopped coming, some passed out, eyes rolled to the back of their heads.

bestfriend!satoru was more surprised, sukuna, who was a fuckin' unit was high head thrown back. eyes bloodshot white powder under his nose as he twitched lightly here and there.

bestfriend!satoru, suguru, and you looked at each other in absolute horror these were not the people you thought you knew. you three slipped out of the club not wanting to 'disturb' their high. honestly, the night felt like a fever dream to you and you were in utter shock.

bestfriend!satoru could see the fear on your face, probably from the way utahime reached across the table trying to bring her key to your nose. you slapped it away looking at her incredulously as she grew angry. she yelled at you saying 'do you have any idea how much a pinch of this cost!' you not caring to know, only shrugged refusing to even look at the white substance on the table.

bestfriend!satoru held your waist as suguru asked if you guys were coming to his place and you shook your head. you really wanted to lay in your bed and reel in your thoughts.

bestfriend!satoru knew that was what you needed. he wanted to be everything ryomen sukuna couldn't be for you. he wanted to be your savior and tonight that's what he'd be.

"i got her." he smiled and suguru nodded walking over to his car.

bestfriend!satoru took you home offering to come in and stay with you and you of course said yes. he sat on your bed while you took your shower looking around the room he's slept in many nights before.

bestfriend!satoru listened to you rant about the night as he watched you get dressed. hardon pressing against his pants as he watched you jump to put on those small shorts that barely covered your ass. he really wished you kept them off.

bestfriend!satoru opened his arms inviting you to lay with him your cheek pressed against his chest. no tv no lights just you wrapped in satoru and the darkness.

bestfriend!satoru who was feeling bold and knew you needed a distraction slowly rubbed your back moving lower and lower by the minute. your eyes had adjusted to the dark and you could see his big blue eyes looking at you.

bestfriend!satoru moved his hand to your ass gripping it as you moaned. you loved the feeling of his soft hands on your ass. the way he rubbed slowly some of his fingers grazing under the shorts.

bestfriend!satoru couldn't hold back anymore as he flipped the both of you over. pressing the tent of his hard cock on the prominent imprint of your pussy on your shorts. he ground his hips into yours groaning at the feeling.

"is... is it okay for me to fuck you?" he asked and you nodded needing him just as bad.

bestfriend!satoru knew you did this because you wanted to get over sukuna. but he didn't care. he didn't care you were only letting him pull down your shorts and panties because you wanted to get over sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you were only letting him finger your needy wet pussy and suck on your hard nipples because you wanted to get over sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care you were only letting him taste your sweet pussy and you only squirted in his mouth saying how much you loved it because you wanted to get over sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you let him fuck your tight cunt senseless because you wanted to get over sukuna. or that you yelled out 'fuck ryo' while he fucked you because you imagined sukuna and not him.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you let him nut in you and you told him you loved him. didn't care that you clung to him like a koala and whispered how good he made you feel just because you needed to get over that man. ryomen sukuna.

ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when you went to sukuna the day after and got with him. he did care when sukuna took you on dates and told you how much he loved you.

ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when sukuna told you that you couldn't be friends with satoru and suguru anymore. he cared when he saw your energy-depleted face around town

ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when sukuna forced you to stay in the house at all times. he cared when you texted him and told him that sukuna was drunk and you were scared he'd hit you.

bestfriend!satoru did care when he bursted into your apartment beating the shit out of sukuna. he cared when he saw your shaking body hiding in your closet.

bestfriend!satoru did care when you told him you loved him and he couldn't deny he still loved you after everything the two of you had been through.

[bennyboyfics]

i loved your pranking ben fic soo much!!! How about instead of pranking ben they do the same prank but ben is the one being mean to the reader in front of his parents? Again, I love your work and tysm<3

Pranking his parents || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

A/n: THANK U SO MUCH!

Wc: 866

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

-

You sit beside Ben in the car, your fingers intertwined as he drives toward his parents’ house. The late afternoon sun filters through the trees lining the quiet street, casting golden streaks across the dashboard. “You sure about this?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing smile. “Your mom might actually disown you after this.”

Ben chuckles, dimples flashing as he glances at you. “She loves me too much for that,” he says confidently, then adds, “But she might slap me upside the head.” You laugh, shaking your head. The prank was simple—Ben was going to act like the worst boyfriend imaginable, treating you with uncharacteristic rudeness in front of his parents just to see their reaction.

His mother, Lisa, was fiercely protective of you, having welcomed you into the family with open arms from the moment Ben introduced you. His father, Bryan, was the more laid-back one, but he had a quiet way of making his disapproval known. Neither of them would take kindly to their son acting like an arrogant jerk toward you.

As you pull into the driveway, Ben exhales dramatically, “this should be fun.” You squeeze his hand one last time before stepping out of the car, the warm Florida air wrapping around you. Lisa greets you first, pulling you into a hug before stepping back to eye you up and down like a proud mother. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” she gushes.

“Thanks, Lisa,” you say warmly. Ben, still standing by the car, scoffs loudly. “Can we go inside already? We don’t need a whole red-carpet moment every time we come over.” You bite your lip to keep from laughing. Lisa’s brows immediately furrow, and Bryan glances up from the porch, his relaxed posture shifting ever so slightly.

Inside, the familiar scent of home-cooked food fills the air, and you follow Ben into the living room, settling onto the couch. His parents sit across from you, chatting about their day, until Ben leans back with a groan. “God, can you not sit so close?” he mutters, shifting away from you on the couch. Lisa’s head snaps up. “Excuse me?”

You feign embarrassment, casting your gaze downward. “Sorry,” you mumble, playing into the act. Bryan sets his drink down with a little more force than necessary. “Ben,” he warns, his voice even but firm. Ben shrugs. “I’m just saying, she’s always, like, all over me. It’s suffocating.” Lisa’s lips part in pure horror.

“Benjamin Todd Shelton, what did you just say?” Ben stifles a grin, quickly adopting a smug expression. “Y’all act like I can’t have space in my own relationship. She’s always doing something annoying—” “Are you out of your damn mind?” Lisa cuts him off, eyes blazing. “I didn’t raise you to talk to a woman like that, let alone your girlfriend!”

Bryan leans forward, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know who you think you are, son, but you better check yourself real quick.” “Bryan,” Lisa turns to her husband, gesturing wildly at Ben. “I— I have never been more ashamed. I don’t care how famous you get or how many matches you win, if I ever hear you speak to her like that again, so help me God—”

Ben finally cracks, bursting into laughter, and you can’t help but giggle as well. Lisa’s anger falters, her narrowed eyes darting between you two. “Oh, my God. Are you— is this a joke?” Ben wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “Yeah, just a prank.” Lisa stares for a moment before smacking Ben’s shoulder. “Are you kidding me? You little—”

Bryan sighs, shaking his head with a smirk. “Damn, boy. I was about to ground you, and you’re a grown man.” Lisa exhales sharply, pressing a hand to her chest. “Don’t you ever do that again. My heart can’t take it.” Ben grins, kissing your temple. “So you do like her more than me.”

Lisa doesn’t hesitate. “Of course I do!” You beam, snuggling into Ben’s side. “I told you they’d take my side.” Ben groans dramatically, but his parents just laugh, shaking their heads. It was safe to say—prank or not—Lisa and Bryan were never going to let their son treat you any way but right.

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think Tim and Dick would deal with going to this specific: Bar/cafe/coffee/candy shop to buy something just to have the excuse to see another customer they started crushing on after a conversation the first time they went there and at some point down the line after asking this customer s/o out, they find s/o’s stash of goodies from the place in a draw in the kitchen at s/o place and s/o walks in on this “I forgot about those in there. I needed an excuse to talk to you”?

A/N: The temptation to write a full out fic for Tim was so real. 😭😂Honestly, this is by far the cutest request I've gotten

Dick:

The original purpose of going to the animal cafe in Bludhaven with Damian was so he could get the teen off his case. For ten days, he would come and terrorize him every night in an act of revenge for all the crap he was given by the whole family for getting grounded. Yes, as the eldest sibling he shouldn't have teased him so much but come on. The teen ran around Gotham, taking down each criminal while holding the giant Bat Signal in its lit state. How could he not? 

Promising to take him there for a whole week, it was on the first day of the seven he met you and the gray rabbit who would eventually become his wingman in winning you over. Resembling Haley, it was as if the rabbit knew the two of you were meant to be when the small thing hopped from you to him, then turning his head towards you to beck you over so Dick could get guided on how to hold and properly pet him. Every day, the rabbit would do this, leading the two of you to get closer to one another where soon, it started to come as natural for him to walk up and sit next to you. 

He knew he was completely hooked as Damian had once come up and whispered with disdain how he was “ogling” you, to which he still argues he was admiring. It was what led to him to start bringing Haley to the cafe on his days-off, smiling as he always saw you with the same fluffy, gray rabbit in your lap, munching on a carrot whenever he entered the shop. All to take a chance and worm his way into your heart.

Now he’s happily living with you under the same roof. Along with becoming Haley’s other parent,  you’ve been helping him get situated with the newly adopted rabbit he saved during his last mission (though he has yet to bring up that the rabbit was actually illegally acquired and was formerly used to energize a bio weapon). 

For right now, he’s helping you find your library card, scorching the whole unit from bathroom to the living room. 

“Did you check your desk yet?”

“No, I didn’t get that far!” 

While you go through the dresser, he stands behind you and goes through your desk. Keys, notepads, paper clips, oh wait. Maybe? Pulling a card out from between your notebooks, he opens his mouth to tell you he may have found it only to stop from recognizing the logo and the date written on it. 

“Did you find it, Dick?” You ask when you don’t hear any shuffling from him for a while. 

“No. But,” he waves the card at you as you turn to face him, “I didn’t know you had a crush on me for that long.” 

His smirk stretches wider into a grin, gleefully watching your confusion and frustration merging into horror as it registers what exactly he’s holding. 

“I… completely forgot I left that there.”  Your voice barely above a whisper to which he nearly tells you it’s fine since he got you to flush from head to toe. 

Instead, he takes a step forward, his fingers gingerly wrap around your wrist before pulling you towards him. Nuzzling his cheek into your hair, he occasionally lifts his head up and presses lips on your forehead, nose, and cheeks.

“Cute”, “precious”, and “I love you”s are what he says in between each one before planting one last kiss on your lips. 

He chuckles from the random noise you make when you duck down to hide your embarrassment. Then sighs in content, words unable to express how he’s fallen head over heels for you all over again.

Tim:

The day he first met and had a crush on you was definitely a memorable one. It started as two random, sleep-deprived students standing in line at the only coffee shop closest to campus. Until he, his sleep deprived mind, and caffeine withdrawal spilled his coffee onto you as soon as he got it off the counter. Great first impression he left as you both went into full out panic, you trying to tell him it was fine while he kept apologizing and promised to, at least, pay for your drink. 

He still cringes at the moment, especially when he later found out once he was on friendlier terms with you, that you were more upset that it was your favorite shirt that had gotten ruined. Your Red Robin shirt to be exact. But now looking back, had it not happened he would’ve never gotten your number, nonetheless talked to you. It would’ve become another normal day in his life without the person who currently gives him joy in his life.

He lost track of how many times he went to that coffee shop just so he could bump and get closer to you.  For a while, coffee became his go to for caffeine when Babs had asked once why he was pouring the coffee from her coffee pot rather than drinking his usual energy drink during a Batfam meeting. 

As the saying goes, hard work pays off. Currently, he’s helping you pack so you could move to what you affectionately call his “dingy old” boat to which has upgraded to becoming somewhat habitable after you visited him more and helped organize his space and belongings. 

“Hey, did you pack your stuff in the drawers?”

He picks up the word “no” coming from the bedroom. Giving you the heads up he was going to start working there, he grabs another empty box and continues to open the drawers in the kitchen. Nothing stands out, the typical utensils organized in their respective holders until his hand nudges onto something in the very back corner that holds your silverware. 

A tiny smile dances on his lips as he pulls out and recognizes your stack of punch cards to the coffee shop the two of you now frequently go to together. You did mention you always liked that place long before the two of you dated. Never thought it was this much. Giving it a good look, he starts considering where he should place it since it was obvious that you were keeping them until the date on the very top card registers in his head. 

“Tim? What are you doing? Do you know how many times I called you-”

His fingertips matching the same red as his neck and face, he wordlessly turns towards you. Slowly your face starts turning the same color, your lips in the shape of a tiny “o” from recognizing what exactly he was holding and what mostly just occurred.  

“You… liked me?” He couldn’t manage uttering the “for that long” part out loud. Thankfully, and another reason why he loves you, you’re quick to catch on what he means as you start looking everywhere but him. 

“Y-Yeah.” It comes out so softly yet he can hear it loud and clear. “I, um, needed an excuse to see you again.” 

He doesn’t know what expression he’s making when he walks up to you. Nor did he have any thoughts in general. His head is in the clouds  right now, finding out how much he’s loved back that makes him love you even more. Adore you even more. Softly he brushes stray hair away from your face. 

“I love you.”

And he leans forward to seal his words in both your and his heart.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! parental!platonic yandere!supervillian

! requests open !

warnings; vague depictions of violence, implied violence against children/youth (reader), slight mentions of gore, body horror(?), and medical horror, yandere behavior, kidnapping, and there may be more i'm forgetting :( if so, please let me know!!

additional notes; hello everynyan, here is my first OC, Malpractice!! very creative name, i know, but i thought it fit (and also it's funny to me) :D i'm not quite sure what format to do for these introductions, but i'm sure as I make more i'll get better at them :) please leave suggestions for any parts/additions you'd like for these intros!!

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Malpractice is known as one of the most destructive and hard-to-deal with villain in all of history, having appeared around the 1930s and refusing to go away since. Malpractices comes and he goes, but he always seems to return eventually, whether that be in three months, or 20 years. He is like an illness that never truly goes away. Remission is possible, but the possibility for it to resurface at any moment is a very real, impending threat.

With abilities ranging from mind control, disease manipulation, pseudo-necromancy, and enhanced senses, speed, and strength; no one hero could ever hope to face Malpractice head on alone. Not even a group of them could ever hope to entirely defeat Malpractice,

Malpractice was a charismatic, slippery asshole-- he'd never really been caught before, but he's sure as hell caught others before. While he isn't known for doing this often, if he wants something bad enough, he'll take his time to set a well thought out trap to catch whatever-- or whoever-- it was he sought.

And when he saw you, so young but so very battered-- left to deal with an (albeit low level, but still dangerous in its own right) threat because your mentor/partner, prioritized a personal goings-on instead of staying by your side.

He'd seen as the so called hero went off the side, leaving you to fight the threat alone-- as you desperately called for their help, only to realize that they'd left without a word; beckoned by the person on the phone.

And it must've been so strange, to feel a little tug on his heart as he witnessed your reaction. Not quite angry, but rather... disappointed, but accepting. Like this was a regular, expected occurrence. Like you were blaming yourself for holding your mentor to a higher standard than this.

By then, Malpractice had decided that you deserved better. He could provide you with that-- besides, in his eyes, even if you were just on the cusp of adulthood-- you were still a child.

My, the industry sure had gone downhill from his time, hadn't it? When he'd been a doctor helping the superpowered individuals, working under the agency, though in it's infancy at the time, had taught him that children were to be nowhere near the career.

Sidekicks were not children, they were simply other superpowered individuals who along, did not do very well; but fit well with a more powerful hero, creating a dynamic duo.

You and your mentor couldn't couldn't be more different, both personality and ability wise. Really, what was he supposed to do, not spring a 'surprise adoption' on you?

Obviously, you're only fighting it because you don't feel worthy of love. That's the only reason, not that you're afraid of him or anything!

[wooyoungbf]

[img id:

screenshot of a tumblr text post, in response to an ask. it reads:

saxifraga-x-urbium said "You can't just casually mention garlic cock man and not tell the story that's against the law"

the reply from stammsternenstaub reads

Are you sure you know what you're asking of me? Are you sure? Well, okay. But don't say I didn't warn you.

This post is long and contains description of genital injury.

So as you'll know, worked three and: a half long, hilarious years at an NHS sexual health and contraception clinic. I loved that job, and packed it in because the Tory cuts to the service meant running it became hideously untenably stressful, but that's a story for another time.

One of my duties at the clinic was to take phone calls. Patients liked me on the phone because I have a nice voice and I'm basically completely unflappable, and they felt happy to tell me things. A vital skill in the wang biz.

One day, a man called. This was not unusual, "Hello," he said. "I need to see one of your nurses about my, er, my chap."

"Righty-oh sir," I said, "are you experiencing any symptoms that you're concerned about? It's just a yes or no kind of question."

"Well," he said, and I instantly felt a dark and terrible energy pulsate down the phone. "Well... sort of. But, uh, it's not symptoms of anything, it's just..."

I would come to regret what I said next. "Is everything all right, sir?"

"Well." There was a pause heard fidgeting. "I got a yeast infection."

Phew, easy peasy. Yeasties are easy to fix. I sounded reassuring and buoyant. "Well that's nothing to worry about, sir - if you don't want to get anything over the counter from the chemist, we can-"

"No, no that's not the problem. Listen -" he sounded serious. "Listen, I'll just tell you what's the matter, and you'll see what I mean."

This is where, whenever I tell this story, I like to ask the listener to play a little game with me. The game is "Where Would You Tap Out?" I'd have already tapped out by going to the chemist and getting some Canestan.

"I didn't want any chemicals on my chap, so I decided to go for a home remedy. Internet said garlic was good for yeast infections, and I've got a lot of garlic, so I figured that'd be all right."

I made sympathetic noises. Home remedies for yeast infections are normal, and garlic is actually quite effective. "Oh good," I said.

"I wasn't sure how much to use, but I figured, I have lot of garlic usually, so I minced a whole bulb."

The dark energy wafting down the phone intensified.

"I packed it all over my, you know, knob, made a poultice. Packed it all over the head, like a hat But, uh, Iwasn't sure how to keep it on.."

I couldn't say anything. I didn't want to scare him off by sounding judgemental.

"..so I just duct taped it all on. Wrapped duct tape all round it."

Still with us? Tapped out yet?

"So er, that worked, kept it on nice and tight, and I left it on over night."

Over night. All night with your cock mummified in garlic paste like some sort of fiendish chicken kiev.

"Caustic,"' I said, before I could stop myself. "Garlic is caustic."

"Yeah! Yeah, it is!" he said, sounding cheerful that l, too, understood the Way of Garlic. "So I unwrapped my dick and, well, it looked kind of like... melted."

I sat, silent, on the phone. Already I'd missed 6 other calls, watching them sail by on the other line while this saga unfolded.

"So I figured," he continued, the terrible juggernaut barrelling unstoppably through this phallic disaster, "I should probably exfoliate it."

"Exfoliate," I echoed weakly.

"Yeah," said this abject human disaster, misinterpreting my echolalic expression of horror as hearty encouragement. "So I had a look around the kitchen -" he was in the kitchen for all this "- for anything I could use and got my brillo pad-"

For anyone not in the UK, that's what we call one of these:

(a picture of a stack of green scouring pads)

I must have betrayed myself and given a gasp of horror at that point, because he quickly reassured me - "No, no, no, it's okay - it was a new one!" before going on to describe scrubbing the affected area to

remove the alkaline chemical burn that he'd inflicted on his poor, blameless cock.

"So you want to come in because of. this?" I said, assuming he would want a new dick by this point.

"Oh no, no " he said, jovial again. "No, it's all fine - it just, my knob's gone all... well, it kind of looks camo print now. I was wondering if you could do anything about it looking camo print."

No, sir. No, neither we nor anyone else can do anything about your camo print garlic cock mistake.

/end id]

okay so I don't know how to look it up but there was this reddit story about a guy who heard you could use garlic as a home remedy for an std and /wrapped his dick/ in garlic cloves and duck taped them on. when he took it off his dick looked all "melted" (because of the fucking CHEMICAL BURNS from that). so he tried to scrub the melted parts off with a brillo pad. he called a doctor's line not because of all that, but because the brillo pad made his dick "camo print".

Well he wasn’t worrying about STDs anymore

OK seriously though I’ve never heard of that guy and I am sad that he didn’t have access to better information.

[zwombiekochan341]

♡ YANDERE SUGURU GETO & YANDERE SATORU GOJO FIGHTING OVER YOU ♡

- Obsession & Rivalry -

Both Gojo and Geto fall hard for you, but their ways of expressing love are very different.

Gojo is openly possessive—he constantly flirts, invades your space, and makes it clear that he’s the only one you need.

Geto, on the other hand, is quietly obsessive—he watches you closely, subtly manipulating situations so that you rely on him.

They both see each other as the biggest obstacle standing between them and having you all to themselves.

- How They Treat You -

Gojo: Smothers you with affection, constantly teasing, touching, and making sure you never forget he’s around.

“C’mon, why would you even look at him when you have me?”

Geto: Plays the long game, making you feel safe with him, subtly convincing you that he’s the only one who truly understands you.

“Gojo treats this like a joke, but I actually care about you. You know that, don’t you?”

- Manipulation & Mind Games -

Both of them are master manipulators, and they use their skills to turn you against the other.

Gojo: Makes you feel like Geto is too serious, too controlling, and that you’d have more fun if you stayed with him.

“Why do you wanna hang out with him? He’s so boring! I’m way more fun, don’t you think?”

Geto: Makes you feel like Gojo is reckless, unreliable, and doesn’t truly care about you the way he does.

“Gojo only wants you because he can’t stand losing. I, on the other hand… I love you.”

In the end, they both mess with your mind so much that you don’t know who to trust.

- Extreme Possessiveness & Control -

If you try to distance yourself from one of them, the other immediately takes advantage of the situation.

Gojo might sweep you away, teleporting you to some unknown place, just to prove you belong with him.

“Aww, you’re upset? Here, let’s go somewhere far away where it’s just the two of us~”

Geto might subtly manipulate your life, making it impossible to function without his help.

“I warned you about Gojo, didn’t I? He’s reckless. But I’ll protect you.”

- How Far Would They Go? -

If one of them tries to take you away, the other wouldn’t let it slide.

Gojo would act like it’s all a game—until Geto actually succeeds in keeping you away. Then, he’d get dead serious.

“Okay, Suguru, that’s cute and all, but you know you’re not keeping them away from me, right?”

Geto would act like he’s in control, but deep down, he knows Gojo is the only person who can match him.

“You’re powerful, Satoru, but you’re reckless. You don’t deserve them.”

They would fight over you, but their shared history and twisted bond make it complicated. Neither wants to kill the other outright, but if it comes down to you, neither is above doing whatever it takes.

- Kidnapping & Endgame -

At some point, one (or both) would decide that you need to be taken away for good.

If Gojo wins, he whisks you away somewhere completely isolated. You’ll have everything you want—except freedom.

“Relax, babe~ You don’t need him. You’ve got me, and I’m never letting you go.”

If Geto wins, he makes sure you’re completely dependent on him, keeping you in a place where no one—not even Gojo—can reach you.

“Now that you’re finally safe with me, you’ll understand… You belong to me.”

But no matter who wins, the other will never stop looking for you.

- True Horror: A Shared Possession -

If they somehow come to an agreement, things get even worse. Instead of fighting over you, they decide that you belong to both of them.

Gojo keeps things lighthearted, acting as if this is all a fun game, while Geto enforces the idea that resisting is pointless.

“See? Now there’s no need to fight~ You’re ours. Forever.”

[betweenstorms]

Chapter 3/2 of Skin Of Thunder To Be Known (previous chapter) (next chapter) (masterlist) Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

“In the stillness of your gaze, I hear my name whispered back to me, not as a question, but as a truth. To be loved by you is to be undone, to be remade from the fragments of who I thought I was.”

Simon Riley wasn’t a man who fell, right?

Well, definitely not in the way poets wrote about or dreamers sighed over. Falling, for him, was a dangerous thing, a loss of total control. It was a kind of surrender for people who could afford the vulnerability of gravity. But that’s the funny thing about this type of gravity, isn’t it? That you don’t always see it coming.

You don’t always notice the pull until you’re halfway to the ground.

It wasn’t immediate.

No, his fall was quieter than that. He threw himself into the abyss when he’d let those words slip from his mouth, that compliment about your bloody perfume he hadn’t planned but somehow couldn’t regret. After that, the truth started to creep in, slowly and undeniably. He hadn’t realized it yet, but the moment his words had found you on that particularly crisp morning in the smoking area, the foundations of his resolve began to crack.

And not just his, but yours too.

God, how could he had known that a simple compliment, innocent on the surface, could spark something he couldn’t anticipate, couldn’t calculate, couldn’t dodge. The way you looked at him then, your smile unfurling like the first light of dawn breaking over a stormy sea, caught him off guard.

He didn’t realize it at the moment, but he had set something in motion.

Something unstoppable.

After that, you were everywhere.

The change was subtle at first, a quiet shift in the way you behaved around him. Your shyness still lingered, soft and endearing, but you carried yourself with more ease around him, as though the first ice of winter had finally broken. He spotted you in the offices, your head bent over some report, your fingers skimming across the keyboard with focused precision. You greeted him warmly whenever you crossed paths, your eyes meeting his with a sincerity that felt almost foreign. He caught glimpses of you in the corridors, your smile so bright it made the harsh fluorescents seem dim by comparison. In the canteen, you always waved at him, unashamed and unguarded. In the briefing room, you caught his gaze now and then, a silent acknowledgment shared between the two of you, unspoken but understood.

It was maddening.

It was intoxicating.

You wore your heart on your sleeve like a piece of delicate jewelry, a crystallized part of your soul, shimmering and vulnerable, and it terrified him. Not because it was fragile, but because it made him want to reach out, to hold it in his hands and keep it.

To keep you.

Ghost had faced countless horrors, endured agony that would break lesser men. He had been hung from his ribs by fucking hooks, his burnt body a canvas of searing pain, clawed his way out of a grave with nothing but a rotting jaw and the desperate remnants of his will to live. But none of it compared to this—to the ache that now consumed him, a longing that bled through him like a wound he had no desire to heal.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt, a hunger so raw it bordered on obsession. He knew so little of you, your life, your story, but it didn’t matter. He was possessed by the need to unravel you, to map out every hidden thought, every curve of your mind, to press your name into the marrow of his bones until it became part of him. The idea of not having you, not knowing you, clawed at him more violently than the dirt he had once shoveled in that cold, silent tomb.

And yet, he would have done it all over again.

He would have ripped out his own jaw if it meant he could see the light in your eyes just once more, your smile that had burned through the shadows of his existence and shown him what it meant to want. To truly want. If being without you was to be buried alive, then he would endure the suffocating press of death, the rot of despair, he would dig his own grave and tear through the earth itself, if it meant feeling the weight of your gaze on him again.

You were madness, yes, but you were also salvation.

However, Ghost wasn’t sure where the line between the two began or ended. And he knew this was a proper problem when Soap pulled him aside after a mission briefing, his annoying grin sharp and all too knowing.

Ghost had never been more grateful for the military’s dogshit technology like he was one day, when it had brought you there, to him. And it allowed him—no, gifted him—the chance to look at you, to drink you in without consequence, to let his gaze settle over you like a veil of a young bride. And you felt it. The weight of his stare, heavy as a hungry hand against your hot skin, pulling at you, demanding your attention. You tried to focus on the projector, on the mess of cables and the way Price muttered under his breath, but it was useless. Ghost was watching you, covering you with his gaze—

—as if he could claim you with just his eyes.

And that was your undoing.

Your hands fumbled, nearly tripping over a cable, heat crawling up your neck, burning you from the inside out. The whole team was watching now, curiosity sparking in their eyes, but the worst part?

Ghost didn’t look away.

He held you there, tethered in the storm of his stare, making you a blushing, stuttering mess in front of everyone as you tried to respond to Price’s casual questions.

And perhaps, if you weren’t so flustered, if your pulse wasn’t hammering against your ribs, you would have noticed it—the slight tilt of his head, the faintest twitch at the corner of his mask. The ghost of amusement dancing in his dark, unreadable eyes.

And of course Soap picked up on it.

The Scotsman had always been a bloody thorn in his side, poking and prodding where others wouldn’t dare, but this time, his words struck closer to home than Ghost would have liked.

“The hell was that? Looked like you wanted to eat the poor lass alive.”

Ghost barely reacted at first, his muscles taut with feigned indifference as he turned slightly, a deliberate thing, meant to steady the coil of tension twisting through his ribs. He knew Soap well enough to understand that ignoring him was pointless. The cheeky bastard had a nose for weakness, and unfortunately, Ghost had just bared his throat without meaning to.

“You’ve got it bad, Lt. Never seen you like this before. You’re bloody obsessed.”

“Don’t start, Johnny.”

But Soap wasn’t one to let up, not when he smelled blood in the water.

“C’mon, you’re practically waggin’ your tail every time she’s in the room.”

The silence was damning.

And worse, it wasn’t the accusation that bothered him. It was the fact that he couldn’t deny it. No, Ghost didn’t need to hear it out loud to know that you had become a problem. A proper fucking problem. In that bloody briefing room, something had snapped inside him, something raw and primal and utterly unforgiving.

He had always been good at hiding. But now he wanted to be seen. He wanted every bastard in that room to know, to understand, without a single word spoken, that you belonged to him.

That the way you blushed, the way your breath hitched, the way your hands trembled slightly as you fumbled with the projector—

—that was his doing.

There was no hiding this. Not anymore.

And the worst part?

He didn’t want to deny it.

Ghost couldn’t escape the weight of it, the filth of guilt staining every thought he had of you. He’d sworn to himself in the beginning, when he first noticed the effect you had on him, that he would never seek you out, wouldn’t let you of all people occupy the spaces in his mind reserved for survival, for strategy, for the cold detachment that kept him steady. Yet here he was, breaking his own unspoken vows, his feet tracing the paths that led to you without him even realizing.

But if he really thought about it, why should he deny you?

Why should he deny himself? You weren’t a real liability unless he let you be one, and Ghost wasn’t the type to let anything slip from his grasp. Obsession was too delicate a word for what he felt, still he knew better than to go further. But he couldn’t stop the way his pitiful thoughts twisted into knots at night, replaying the moments you shared, however small.

He must stop himself from giving in.

Yes, he wouldn’t let it get to that point.

He could look, but it would never be more than that. He wouldn’t touch you, wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t let it come to skin against skin. He would never reach for you. Because he knew, deep down, in the cold, unyielding depths of his pitiful soul, that if he ever crossed that line, he would be lost entirely. And Ghost, for all his shadows, couldn’t afford to let Simon fall.

So he only looked.

Looking was safe. Looking didn’t mean surrendering. Looking didn’t mean unraveling. This way, he could keep his distance, maintain the fragile boundaries he’d constructed between himself and the thing he wanted most. But God, even that felt like too much some days.

Especially now.

It was a particularly bitter morning.

The autumn wind was howling outside the office like a living thing, rattling the windows and seeping through every tiny crack in the building. The heater in the office hummed softly, barely cutting through the chill, and the faint smell of stale coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of paper and metal.

You were explaining something about the military’s new, updated computer system, your voice soft but steady, your fingers moving deftly across the keyboard as you demonstrated the most efficient way to navigate the reports. Ghost barely registered your words, too focused on the way your lips moved, the faint crinkle at the corners of your eyes when you glanced up at him to make sure he was paying attention.

He wasn’t. Not to the system, anyway.

No, Ghost was focused entirely on you.

You had said it yourself once, hadn’t you? That you’d help with whatever he needed.

And now, what he needed was this—your presence, your voice, your smile. Because he knew this system as he knew the back of his hand, as a high-ranking officer he had been filling out military paperwork since you were still learning the difference between convex and concave. But he had asked for your help anyway, a poor excuse to have you here, sitting beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of you.

Ghost wasn’t supposed to enjoy something like this, not in the conventional sense anyway. He endured, tolerated, got through his days without too much of a fuss. But watching the way your cheeks bloomed like a rose, the way your breath hitched when his voice dipped too low, too deliberate. It was a strange kind of satisfaction, one he didn’t fully understand, but it was there, and it was relentless. And the way your eyes darted to his, wide and uncertain, like you were trying to figure him out but didn’t dare look too long?

That was something else entirely.

“...so if you flag the report here by clicking this, it’ll automatically forward it to the reviewing officer. Saves a bit of time, yeah? It’s streamlined, apparently. Pretty cool, huh?”

Ghost didn’t respond.

His eyes stayed fixed on your face, his expression unreadable beneath the balaclava. He wasn’t even pretending to look at the screen, wasn’t giving you the courtesy of pretending to care about whatever it was you were showing him. His gaze dragged lower, tracing the delicate line of your jaw, the gentle curve of your throat.

He should’ve said something.

Should’ve nodded, grunted in vague acknowledgment, anything to make it seem like he was actually listening. But he wasn’t. Not to the software update or the new efficiency protocols. No, all he could do was stare, barely blinking, barely breathing, as you explained something he already knew inside and out.

And you noticed.

You hesitated, your voice faltering as your fingers hovered awkwardly above the keyboard. “Uhm… do you… do you need me to repeat that, sir?” you asked, your gaze flicking to his, hesitant and unsure, like you were afraid of what you might find there.

“No need.”

It was a lie, and you both knew it.

Your tongue darted out nervously, wetting your bottom lip—a habit, nothing more, but it was enough to catch his attention. The smallest shifts in his posture were audible in the still room, the faint creak of the chair beneath him, the subtle rustle of fabric as he leaned back.

“I don’t—I mean, I don’t want to waste your time,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as your nails fidgeted with the edge of the desk. The words tumbled out ungracefully, more an attempt to fill the silence than anything else. “I just thought—well, you asked me to show you this, so maybe…”

Ghost’s chair creaked again, louder this time, as he shifted his weight. His tone followed, dry and razor-sharp, slicing clean through your nerves.

“Reckon you just talk too much.”

The bluntness of his words made you flinch.

Your lips parted in surprise, but no sound came out, your eyes wide as they met his dark gaze. His expression was unreadable beneath the balaclava, however, the faint tilt of his head made the comment feel intentional. Calculated.

“I—what?” you stammered, heat rushing to your face, flustered and unsure if he was serious or just taking the piss. Judging by his tone, it could’ve gone either way. “I’m just trying to help,” you mumbled, your voice quieter now, but you managed to hold his gaze for a moment before your nerves betrayed you, and you looked down at your hands. “It’s not like you’re giving me much to work with, sir.”

Ghost nearly scoffed.

His eyes lingered on you, studying the flush creeping up your neck, the way you avoided his gaze like it might burn you. The audacity, the way you shot back at him, all shy and fidgeting but still refusing to fold—it stirred something in him, something darkly amused. You were nervous, that much was obvious, the way you flinched and your voice wavered, but there was a stubbornness beneath the surface.

A quiet defiance he hadn’t expected.

And it intrigued him.

“That so?”

Ghost let the words hang in the air, his tone deliberately even, his voice a rumble that seemed to fill the entire room. He watched as you shifted awkwardly in your seat, clearly unsure but refusing to let it show entirely. Bloody hell, that stubborn streak of yours, buried under layers of shyness, was fascinating to him. You had spunk—clumsy, self-conscious, but still there.

You nodded, glancing at the screen before stealing a quick look at him. “Well, yeah. I mean… you’re not exactly receptive.”

“Receptive?” he repeated, deadpan.

“Yes, I mean,” you began, clearly starting to panic, “it’s just… you don’t really seem like the, uhm… tech-savvy type, you know?”

You immediately winced, clearly regretting your choice of words the moment they left your mouth, and Ghost could feel the faintest flicker of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips beneath the balaclava.

“Sounds like you’re callin’ me old.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurted out, waving your hands in front of his face defensively. “I just meant that—you know, maybe it’s just… uhm, a generational thing, I thought that—”

“So you are callin’ me old.”

“I—no! I mean, not old-old,” you stammered, your cheeks practically blazing as you blinked up at him, clearly mortified.. “Just… experienced?”

He raised an eyebrow at that, the gesture subtle but enough to make you squirm. Your face morphed into a defeated grimace.

“You’re twisting my words.”

“Am I?” His tone was so dry it could’ve sucked the moisture out of the room.

“Come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you’ve probably been doing paperwork since… I don’t know, before I was even in high school. But, uhm, that doesn’t mean you’re old. It’s not like I know what you look like, which is—I mean, you don’t look a day older than... forty?”

That stopped him for a second, the faintest twitch of his head indicating surprise.

Fucking hell, you’d said it so awkwardly, so earnestly, that for a moment he wondered if you even knew how much worse you were making it for yourself. And then, as if realizing what you’d just implied, you froze. Completely froze.

For a heartbeat, the room seemed to still.

Your eyes darted toward him like a deer caught in headlights, your hands hovering midair as though they could somehow physically reel your words back into your mouth. Ghost didn’t move, didn’t even blink, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the heater and the distant creak of the old building under the weight of the wind.

And then, he hummed.

“Forty?”

Your hands flew to your face as if that would shield you from the sheer intensity of his gaze. “No, no, no!” you stammered, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to backtrack. “It was just an example! I mean, I don’t actually know how old you are. You could be… uhm, thirty-five?” You groaned again, pressing your palms against your mouth, making your words come out as muffled nonsense. “Oh no. I’m just making this worse, aren’t I?”

Ghost’s gaze pinned you in place.

You were coming apart, unraveling thread by thread beneath the weight of his silence. Your words stumbled out in a tangled mess, tumbling over themselves like stones in a landslide, each one burying you deeper, crushing your resolve with every awkward attempt to claw your way out. And still, he stared—calm, unreadable, letting you twist in the trap you’d set for yourself, as though he had all the time in the world to watch you fall.

Your hands flew to your face, fingers spread wide like a fractured shield, barely hiding the mortified flush that crept up your neck. Through the gaps, your eyes peeked out, wide and uncertain, catching his for the briefest, agonizing moment before retreating again.  

“Oh my God,” you mumbled, your voice muffled and small, the apology trembling behind the barrier of your palms. “I’m so sorry.” The words fell between you like fragile glass, splintering under the weight of your embarrassment.

Ghost should’ve let it go.

Should’ve brushed it off, muttered something noncommittal, and moved on.

But he didn’t.

“Could’ve gone with thirty,” he muttered, his voice carrying the faintest edge of amusement, though his tone remained as flat as ever. “Would’ve been kinder.”

That did it.

You let out a startled chuckle, a sound so sudden and bright it pierced through him, straight to the bone. It hit him like a gut punch, robbing him of breath and leaving him staggered in a way that battles and blood never had. Your shoulders shook with the effort to hold it back, your cheeks blazing, the color rising in waves that only made you more mesmerizing.

It wasn’t just the sound, though it was lovely in its own right, like the first notes of a melody meant only for him. No, it was the way it transformed you. It stripped away your defenses, your shyness, your awkwardness, your nervous little fidgets, and left you radiant, glowing with a beauty that wasn’t just physical but visceral.

You burned him, yet he couldn’t look away.

“I wasn’t trying to—” You broke off, laughter spilling out again, your fingers pressed against your mouth as though holding back a dam would keep the flood at bay. “Bloody hell, I wasn’t trying to insult you! I’m not laughing at you, I swear, I’m just—God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Not denyin’ that.”

You shook your head, the last echoes of your nervous giggles fading like a wave retreating from the shore, scratching your elbow with your signature, restless energy. “Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant. I’ve completely humiliated myself in front of a senior officer. Might as well hand in my resignation now, huh?”

“That an offer?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

“You’d really let me quit over this?”

“Wouldn’t stop you.”

Your laugh came softer this time, tinged with something awkward and vulnerable, and Ghost wasn’t prepared for the way it filled the quiet office like the sea spilling into a hollow cave, echoing and easing every jagged edge.

You snorted softly, letting your hands fall from your face, though your gaze stayed fixed somewhere beyond him—

—anywhere but in the weight of his eyes.

The silence stretched between you, lingering like the last traces of a storm. Ghost remained still, his dark eyes fixed on you, tracing the way your laughter melted into an embarrassed smile, soft and uncertain, as you looked up at him from under your eyelashes.

Moments like this were rare for him—precious, fleeting things he hardly allowed himself to linger on. But now, he let himself take in the way you unraveled and stitched yourself back together, the warmth of your presence brushing against the cold edges of his own. It wasn’t just the sight of you, it was the quiet intimacy of it, the fragile beauty of something unspoken yet heavy in the air. You were too close, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The heater hummed softly, filling the quiet with its rhythmic drone, and Ghost found himself acutely aware of how close you were. It wasn’t just the physical distance, though that was enough to make his skin itch with an unfamiliar warmth, it was the way you seemed to fill the room, your presence a tangible thing that pressed against him, demanding his attention even when he tried to resist.

“So…” you began hesitantly, breaking the silence. “How old are you, really?”

Your question slipped past his defenses like a blade between ribs.

“Why d’you wanna know?”

Your cheeks flushed again, but you managed a nervous smile.

“Just curious. You know, for… context.”

“Cheeky sod,” he whispered, the words low and rough, softened by the tired sigh that escaped him like the weight of the moment had pressed it free.

“Well?” you prompted, your eyes bright with a mix of curiosity and caution. “Are you going to tell me, or is it classified?”

He exhaled sharply, a sound caught somewhere between a groan and a ghost of a laugh. “I’m old enough to know better and leave it at that.”

You frowned, leaning back slightly in mock exasperation. “That’s not an answer.”

“Didn’t say I’d give you one,” he shot back, the faintest trace of amusement lacing his words.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Fine. Keep your secrets, then. But for the record, I don’t think you’re old, Lieutenant. Just… distinguished.”

“That’s what you muppets callin’ it these days?”

You nodded earnestly, though the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. “Oh, absolutely. Distinguished. Rugged. Mysterious.”

Ghost hummed softly, his gaze tethered to your face, caught in a spell he hadn’t meant to fall under.

You hypnotized him—the curve of your smile, the flicker of light in your eyes, the way you seemed to hold too much within you, too much for one person, it made him want to reach out. You should surrender yourself to him. Give him your darkest thoughts, your quiet fears, your sharp edges and angelic smiles. You should have given him everything, because he would take it. Every fractured piece, every hidden depth, he would take it all and keep it.

Simon Riley wasn’t a man who fell, no.

But in that moment, he wished for the words of a poet, some fragile string of syllables that could hold the weight of what you made him feel.

“That your way of butterin’ me up, sweetheart?”

You laughed again, so much softer this time, the sound unfurling around him like the tender warmth of sunlight breaking through the shadow of a long, unyielding night.

And then you looked at him, just as you had in the smoking area, with that quiet, unspoken longing, the gaze of a woman who wished to be seen, to be wanted. It was the look of a woman who carried her longing delicately, like a flower pressed between pages. And it struck him because Simon Riley had never been the kind of man to accept such invitations. He didn’t have the hands for it, didn’t have the heart for it. But you, with your quiet yearning and your light wrapped in shadows, made him wonder if perhaps, just this once, he could.

“You wish, sir.”

And God help him, he really did.

“I am what I am, torn between the fierce hunger of the beast and the innocence of the lamb. And still, I stand before you, searching for the love that could fill the spaces between these two selves.” Skin of Thunder Chapters

[sunofnebulah]

medic!reader and simon

cw: panic attack (?) but its really just simon, blood, simon being a creep basically

simon that just… hovers

and not in a sweet and doting way, but in a heavy, monitoring, terrifying way.

you’re nowhere near done with your duties, swamped with the aftermath of your shift. bloody bandages and scalpels litter your bench, torn clothes and items toppled over and scattered around the small clinic. you’re used to it by now, witnessing the pain and horror of attacks. you’ve seen the worst of it- no matter how many gashes you stitch up or limbs you tourniquet, you’re glad to be able to fix things.

the stench of blood permeates the air as you scrub at the bench, trying your best to clean off the gore seeped onto it. you think you look at it for too long, because a blanket of dread drapes over you. your scrubbing comes to a halt, and you feel as if you cant move. your head races as you try and block out the horrific feeling of paranoia.

am i having a panic attack? you’re breathing catches, sweat beading at your forehead and running down your back. . no, i should be used to it by now.. maybe it piled up? your vision swims, fear settled deep into your bones.

its too much. you cant you cant i cant.

the door creaks and you whip your head around

its simon

thick arms crossed, head tilted and leaning against the doorframe. how long has he been there?

his eyes unreadable, but terrifying.

“jus’ watchin’ u clean up, love”

[honeyscara]

❝ just kiss me ❞ – Yamaguchi. T

-haikyuu

Synopsis: you've liked him for a while but Yamaguchi seems to think you like Tsukishima. This changes one night when you decide to prove him wrong.

C/w: fem! reader x timeskip! yamaguchi, blowjob, yams being a sub leaning switch, markings, fingering, protected sex, mentions of aftercare,yams being a gentleman, reader being dom(?), tsukishima being tsukishima, 18+ MDNI

~4.2k words

Yamaguchi’s eyes drank in the sight of you at the party, his fingers tightening slightly around the cup in his hands. You looked stunning—your short black dress hugged every inch of your curves, the low V-neckline teasing just enough to make his throat dry. Your hair was loose, framing your face in a way that made his chest ache.

You had always been on the curvier side, something most guys wouldn’t typically go for. But Yamaguchi? He fucking loved it. He always had—since middle school, when his crush on you started and never really faded. But he had been too shy, too scared to ruin your friendship, especially when he convinced himself you had feelings for Tsukishima instead.

And yet, when you turned toward him with that bright smile, your eyes full of warmth, all the thoughts in his head blurred.

“Yams, lighten up and come dance with me and Tsukki,” you urged, tugging at his arm playfully.

He forced a small smile but shook his head. “It’s okay. You have fun.”

Your smile faltered for a second before you let out a small huff. “You better join us in a few minutes.” Then, with one last tug at his sleeve, you turned and walked toward Tsukishima.

Yamaguchi watched as Tsukishima barely hesitated before resting his hands on your waist, pulling you close as the music shifted into a slow, intimate song. His stomach twisted at the sight. It hurt. He hated feeling this way, hated that he was jealous of his best friend, but how could he not be? Tsukishima was taller, cooler, and always knew what to say. Who wouldn’t like him?

Trying to push the feeling down, Yamaguchi swallowed a deep sip of his drink and looked away.

What he didn’t notice, however, was the way your smile had disappeared.

You were upset.

Yamaguchi was so damn convinced you liked Tsukishima, but he was completely wrong. You had never seen Tsukishima that way—he was like a brother, nothing more. The one you had always liked? The one you’d been crushing on since middle school?

It was Yamaguchi Tadashi.

And Tsukishima, being the ever-observant asshole that he was, had known it all along. He had spent years watching you and Yamaguchi dance around your feelings, and frankly, he was fucking sick of it.

So, while swaying slightly with you on the dance floor, he leaned down and muttered, “Why don’t you go talk to him? You’re both miserable right now.”

You sighed. “Tsukki, he’s been so distant. I feel like… I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like me that way.”

Tsukishima scoffed. “He doesn’t?” His lips curled into a smirk. “Let’s test that, then.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Head back with Yams,” he suggested, glancing toward where Yamaguchi sat, gloomily staring at his drink.

“What? And what about you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, waving you off. “I’ll come back later.” Then, after a pause, he added, “But in the meantime… make a fucking move, since he won’t.”

Your face heated instantly. “Tsukki—”

“There are condoms in the second drawer in the living room, by the way,” he added with a smirk.

You gaped at him in horror. “Why the fuck do you even have them there?”

“I might’ve fucked around. And I’m seeing someone,” he said, completely unbothered.

“YOU WHAT?! WHEN? WHO?” You fired off question after question, scandalized.

Tsukishima only chuckled. “Save the interrogation for later. Right now, your priority is Yamaguchi.” He nudged you in Yamaguchi’s direction. “Go.”

You hesitated for only a moment before exhaling sharply and nodding.

“Fine.”

“Good.” Tsukishima’s smirk widened as he watched you take a step forward. “Now go get your man.”

You shot him a glare but didn’t argue. Instead, you took a deep breath, turned on your heel, and made your way toward Yamaguchi determined to finally do something about this damn tension between you two. Yamaguchi barely had time to react when you slid into the seat beside him.

"Come back with me," you said, your tone light but firm.

Yamaguchi blinked. "What? But—"

"Tsukki said he’ll come back later with the other guys from the club," you cut in smoothly. "So it’s just us for now. Come on, I don’t wanna head back alone."

He hesitated, eyes flickering to where Tsukishima was still lounging by the bar, watching the two of you with an all-too-knowing smirk.

“…Are you sure?”

"Yams." You gave him a look. "Yes, I’m sure. Now, are you coming or not?"

With a sigh and a defeated chuckle, Yamaguchi downed the rest of his drink and stood. "Fine, fine. Let’s go."

The drive was quiet.

You stared out of the window as Yamaguchi focused on the road, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rested near the gear shift. The hum of the engine filled the silence between you, but your mind was too full to enjoy the peace.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that you finally turned to face him.

"Hey, Yams," you started, voice softer now.

"Yeah?"

"Do you… like anyone?"

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel just slightly before he let out a breathy laugh. "Nah. I don’t really have time for that right now. I just wanna focus on my studies."

Your heart sank.

"Oh," was all you managed to say, trying to ignore the sudden weight in your chest.

Still, you forced yourself to push forward, your next question lingering on the tip of your tongue.You took a slow breath, gathering the courage to ask the question weighing on your mind.

"Then… what would you do if I liked someone? And… I started dating them?"

Silence.

Yamaguchi’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. His stomach twisted painfully, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. That was the one question the one fucking question he never wanted to hear from you.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing a weak chuckle. "What sort of question is that?" He flashed you a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Of course, I’d be happy for you."

It felt like something inside him shattered.

And from the way your shoulders tensed, he wasn’t the only one dying inside.

"Idiot," you mumbled under your breath, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Then, without another word, you turned away, resting your head against the window as the cool night breeze hit your face. Your expression was unreadable, but there was a sadness in your eyes that made Yamaguchi’s chest ache.

Why were you acting like this?

His eyes flickered to your reflection in the glass, watching the way your fingers clenched slightly against your lap. You looked… upset. But why? Did his answer disappoint you? He wanted to ask wanted to understand but the words died in his throat.The rest of the drive was painfully silent.

By the time the two of you arrived at your shared dorm, Yamaguchi let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair as he stepped inside.

"Well," he started, voice a little awkward as he turned to you. "You should get some rest. Sleep well and—"

Before he could finish, you suddenly grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, pinning him in place.

Yamaguchi barely had time to react, his breath catching in his throat as your hands pressed firmly against his chest. Your expression was filled with frustration—your eyes burning with something he couldn’t quite place.

His heart pounded in his ears."...W-What—?"

Your hands tightened against Yamaguchi’s chest as you stared at him, frustration burning in your eyes.

"Why?" you demanded, voice sharp. "Why are you so unaffected? Why don’t you care if I date someone?"

Yamaguchi swallowed hard, his brain scrambling for an answer, for anything that wouldn’t betray how wrecked he truly felt. But in his panic, he let something slip.

"Of course, I would be happy for you and Tsukki," he said, forcing a small, strained laugh.

Your entire body stiffened.

"Tsukki?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. But it wasn’t soft—it was dangerous, laced with disbelief and rising anger. "You really fucking think I like him?"

Yamaguchi's breath hitched as you leaned in closer, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"You fucking idiot," you hissed, your voice trembling slightly, but not with hesitation. With frustration. With emotion. "I like you. I fucking like you, Tadashi. And only you."

Everything you had bottled up for so long—every glance, every touch, every moment you held back came pouring out.

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened, his lips parting slightly in shock. "R-Really?" he stammered, his voice so small, so unsure, as if he still couldn’t believe it.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

Instead, you grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips against his, kissing him with a hunger that had been buried for far too long. You kissed him like you had been dying to—like this was your only chance, like you had been waiting years for this moment.

And Yamaguchi?

The second his mind caught up, he kissed you back just as hard, just as desperate—his hands finally finding their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.He had waited for this, too.

You finally pulled back, breathless, your heart pounding so hard you swore Yamaguchi could hear it. His face was completely red, flushed from his cheeks down to his neck. But then again, yours probably was too.

His lips were slightly parted, still wet from your kiss, and his wide, hazy brown eyes stared at you like you had just turned his entire world upside down.

You swallowed, your fingers still gripping his shirt as you tried to steady yourself.

Then, without thinking, you spoke.

"Tadashi…" Your voice was lower now, almost a whisper. "I want you."

Yamaguchi stiffened under your touch, his breath hitching. His hands, still resting on your waist tensed slightly, his fingers digging in just a little.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with both hesitation and something deeper.

You nodded, breathless. "For fuck’s sake, Tadashi, just kiss me."

His eyes darkened instantly, fingers gripping your waist tighter before his lips crashed against yours. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just pure, unfiltered hunger. His lips moved against yours with desperation, his tongue sliding past your parted lips as he deepened the kiss. He tasted the wine lingering on your tongue fucking delicious.

Yamaguchi’s hands slid down your thighs before gripping them firmly, lifting you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your fingers burying themselves in his soft, greyish-green locks, tugging just enough to draw a low groan from his throat. He carried you to the couch, lips never once leaving yours, only breaking apart long enough to lay you down. His breath was heavy, chest rising and falling as he took in the sight of you beneath him—flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, lips swollen from his kisses.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, swallowing hard as he unbundled his belt, tossing it away.

"Tadashi let me" you said as your hands reached out to his pants, pulling them down. His breath hitched as your fingers grazed against his clothed erection. "Shit," he moaned, the sound barely above a whisper, but filled with so much want. His hands fisted at his sides, trying to hold himself together, but you had him unraveling too easily.

"You look so fucking cute" you say as you pressed against his rock hard erection, enciting a whimper from him. so fucking cute.

Your fingertips tugged at the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down to free his erection completely. As your hand wrapped around his member, he shuddered under your touch, groaning when you licked his tip that was leaking precum.

"So big" you commented as you gave his tip kitten links. His hands tangled in your hair as he tried to maintain a steady breath. Yamaguchi was already dizzy with it, hands gripping the couch for some sort of stability.

"Please…" he groaned, voice strained, body taut with tension. "I-I can’t…" he begged as you took your time teasing his cock, enjoying his pleas.

"so needy,why didn't you confess sooner yams?" you replied before taking his member in. He hissed, pushing into your warm, wet mouth. Yamaguchi bucked his hips forward as if he were begging you to go faster, to suck him harder, but you wanted to enjoy each little moment together.

You gagged a bit, tears forming in the corner of you eyes as you bobbed your head up and down his length. He drank in the sight of you, biting his lips to muffle a moan. God you looked so fucking gorgeous with your messy hair and tears at the corner of your eyes as you sucked on him.

His head tilted back, a shuddered breath leaving his lips. "Fuck, Y/N…"

He was close. "can i?" he let out and you nodded, knowing what was about to happen next. Your mouth remained open as he pumped gently into your mouth, eyes shut tightly. A shaky sigh left his lips before he pulled out, cum spilling onto your face and lips.

"Oh god," Yamaguchi whispered as he collapsed on top of you, arms wrapping around you protectively. "I love you so much.…" You smiled softly at him but Yamaguchi sat up straight, his arms pined your wrists to the edge of the couch.

"Let me make it up to you now," he murmured, his voice lower, rougher—filled with something dark and unshaken. A shiver ran down your spine. This was new. A different side of Yamaguchi, one you hadn’t seen before, and god, it was intoxicating.

He didn’t give you a second to process it before his lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hands roamed your body with purpose, mapping out every curve, every inch of you, as if he had been dying to do this for years.

You let out a shaky moan as he sucked on the soft skin near your neck. You wanted him so badly, heat pooling in your lower abdomen. The way his lips moved against your flesh sent shivers down your spine. His hands gripped the straps of your dress pulling them down till your chest exposing the soft flesh. You shivered when the cold wind hit your bare skin.

"f-feels good-" you breathed out as he squeezed your pert nipples between his thumb and index finger while sucking on your collarbone.

"You're so fucking pretty" he whispered pulling away to discard his shirt while you unzipped your dress completely. You gasped as his tongue trailed over your breasts.

"y-yams.." you moaned out, wrapping your legs around his waist as he sucked on your mounds. A yelp left hour lips as he sucked down a little too harshly. "be gentle"

"I'm sorry darling" Yamaguchi said softly, pulling away just a little to make sure you were okay before peppering kisses lower to your stomach. Your breath hitched as he trailed his fingers against your inner thigh. Your head fell back and you closed your eyes as he continued kissing lower, savoring each and every moment.

Your hips bucked forward as he slipped his fingers in your panties and pulled them down. The cool air brushed across your exposed clit making you squirm. Yamaguchi licked his lips as he stared at you hungrily, his hand tracing circles on your inner thigh.

"God, you're so beautiful" he rasped, sliding his index finger into you, causing you to gasp louder than before.

"fuck atleast warm me" you whimpered, as he pumped his digits in a slow rhythm.

"ah–sorry" he said and gave small pecks on your face. You hummed as you felt his thumb swirling around the sensitive bud.

Your head fell back against the hand rest of the couch, grasping onto the cushions tightly. "faster please" you whined quietly and Yamaguchi nodded before sliding another finger. It was rough, but he still managed to be gentle. You felt the familiar pressure building in your belly and arched your back as he pushed two fingers inside of you. Just as you were about to reach the climax of pleasure, he pulled his fingers out, licking them. "So sweet"

"Yams, what the hell—" you whined, frustration thick in your voice, and that only seemed to amuse him.

He chuckled, low and teasing, his fingers tracing along your skin. "I thought you’d want this more," he murmured, his voice dripping with confidence, his movements deliberate.Your breath hitched as he positioned himself at your entrance, the weight of the moment settling in.

"Wait—Tsukki said the condoms are in the second drawer," you stammered out, your voice shaky, mind fogged with anticipation.

Yamaguchi scoffed, running a hand through his messy green locks. That bastard. Of course, Tsukishima had planned this.

Muttering something under his breath, he reached over to the side table, pulling the small packet from inside. His fingers fumbled with the wrapper before he brought it to his teeth, tearing it open effortlessly.*That was hot.* You swallowed hard, your body burning under his gaze.

He groaned as he slide the latex on his cock, positioning himself at your entrance once again. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good” he rasped

"oh god– fuck" you cried out as he pushed in slowly. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you steady despite how much you trembled beneath him."It's okay baby, I've got you," Yamaguchi assured you, his voice a soothing murmur as he thrusted slowly.

"ah—" you moaned, barely able to form a coherent thought, your mind clouded with nothing but him—his touch, his heat, the way he fit against you so perfectly.

Your thighs tightened around his hips, desperate to keep yourself grounded, but it was impossible when every roll of his hips sent a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you.

His eyes never left yours. That unwavering, intense gaze made your breath hitch, your heart race, your body burn. He wasn’t just fucking you—he was devouring you with every movement, every deep thrust, every flicker of raw emotion in those eyes.The way he looked at you with so much love, hunger, and need made your body tremble. It was intoxicating, dizzying, and it only made you want him more.

"i—tadashi fuck, so fucking good" his name rolled off your lips, breathless and wrecked as he drove his cock a little faster, until you were gasping desperately, tears pricking your eyes. He knew you were close. "Cum for me darling" he drawled, his tone so gentle yet so commanding.

You squirmed a bit before coming undone with a long, drawn out moan, your nails digging into his skin and holding him close as your pussy clenched around him, your release coating the latex condom.

"you're so fucking good" Yamaguchi choked out a moan as his own climax finally hit. Dropping his hands to his side, he pulled own slowly from your throbbing cunt. He tossed the condom into the bin before collapsing beside you on the couch, his breathing still heavy, his body warm against yours.

Without a second thought, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him as if he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance. His fingers brushed back the strands of hair sticking to your damp skin, his touch gentle, reverent.

"How did I get so lucky?" he murmured, his voice soft, filled with awe. "I can't believe you chose me"

You let out a tired chuckle, pressing your face into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "You’re such an idiot, Yams," you muttered, a weak smile tugging at your lips.

He only tightened his hold on you, burying his face in your hair. "Yeah," he sighed, content. "But I’m your idiot now." Yamaguchi let out a satisfied sigh, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head before shifting slightly.

“You must be exhausted,” he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your arm. “Let me run us a bath so we can clean up and get some sleep.”

His voice was gentle, but there was a quiet insistence in his tone, as if he wanted to take care of you in every way he could. Slowly, he sat up, stretching before glancing down at you with a soft smile.

"Stay here, I’ll get the water ready," he said, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before pulling himself off the couch, disappearing into the bathroom.

︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶ ︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶

The next morning, you woke up before him, the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the curtains. Yamaguchi lay beside you, his face relaxed, lips slightly parted as he breathed steadily in his sleep. He looked so peaceful—his messy green hair falling into his face, his freckles standing out against his warm skin.

You smiled, propping yourself up on one elbow as you watched him, admiring the way his bare chest rose and fell with each breath. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, while you were wrapped up in his oversized t-shirt, the fabric hanging loosely over your frame, barely covering the marks he’d left on you the night before.

As if sensing your gaze, his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. He blinked up at you before his lips curled into a lazy smile.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the way his shirt draped over your body, the way the collar had slipped off one shoulder, exposing the dark bruises he'd left on your skin. His cheeks flushed slightly, but there was admiration in his gaze.

Before he could say anything else, the door suddenly swung open with a loud bang.

"Get up, lovebirds," Tsukishima's deadpan voice filled the room. "I made some soup."

Yamaguchi groaned, burying his face into the pillow while you scrambled to pull the blanket up over yourself.

Tsukishima crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with an all-too-knowing smirk. "So," he drawled, eyes flicking between the two of you, "you two finally got down to it, I'm glad my plan worked"

Yamaguchi choked, immediately sitting up. "Tsukki—"

The blond ignored him, instead zeroing in on the fresh marks blooming across your neck and shoulder. His smirk widened. "Damn, Yamaguchi, you really marked her, huh?"

Your face burned as you instinctively tugged Yamaguchi’s shirt higher, shooting Tsukishima a glare. "Tsukki, get out."

Just as Tsukishima was about to leave, a thought suddenly crossed your mind, making you sit up.

“Wait, Tsukki.”

He stopped in the doorway, turning his head slightly, already looking irritated. “What?”

You smirked. “Remember last night before we left the party? You said you were fucking someone and seeing them.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened, suddenly more awake. “wait what!! tsukki you never told me.”

Tsukishima visibly tensed, his hand gripping the doorframe a little tighter. “Didn’t think it was that important.”

“Oh, but it is now,” you teased, leaning forward. “Who is it?”

Yamaguchi grinned, clearly enjoying the rare moment of Tsukishima being the one on the defensive. “Yeah, Tsukki, you better spill. Someone from campus?”

Tsukishima exhaled sharply, adjusting his glasses. “It’s… someone from the college prep classes,” he muttered, clearly annoyed.You and Yamaguchi exchanged a look before bombarding him with more questions.

“Wait, who exactly? Are they in our department?”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Are they the reason you’ve been staying out late?”

“Does she wear glasses? I feel like you’d go for a glasses girl.”

Tsukishima’s eye twitched. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, muttering something about how he definitely should’ve just stayed quiet. You and Yamaguchi burst out laughing.

“That definitely got under his nerves,” you said, grinning.

Yamaguchi stretched, then leaned over to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “We should freshen up and go have that soup. And, you know…trouble Tsukki more.”

You smirked. “I like the way you think.”

[dreamin4smth]

Maria Robotnik VS Sonic 3

So I watched Sonic 3 last december and I can’t stop thinking abt it. Especially what they did with the Shadow and Maria story, so now Ive come here to speak my mind and go through just how GOOD of an adaption they are in the movie. Holy shit. That was wild.

Ill be comparing Game!Maria and Movie!Maria and how their characters work in the story. Im sure there are hundreds of analyzis out there of them that might be saying the same things I will. Idk I havent watched any, but these are my own thoughts Ive gathered from watching the movies and the games. So I hope they make as much sense to you as they do to me lmao.

Because, good lord, it must have been difficult for the writers to handle the question “how do you adapt the story of a hedgehog made by the blood of space alien colonizers all in favour of saving sick child from dying?“

What did the writers do? Well lets see.

To understand the difference between Movie!Maria and Game!Maria we need to understand what Maria as a character does to the story. So lets start there.

Game!Maria

Maria robotnik in the games serves a special roll that promotes her to something more than just a character. Game Maria is a symbol. Her story is set from the moment we learn of her, and her character is more there for plot reasons rather than being an independent veichle in her story. The Maria we meet is soft spoken, compassionate, a fanatic and an inspiration for Shadow. She’s dressed in blue with golden hair and with a leap in her step. There is little fault to be found in her because thats not what she’s ment to be. Maria is a representation of innocence.

She’s a sick child who wishes for everyone on earth to be happy, and all of this is ment to lead you to the horrors of her then being killed. But the point is, Maria in the games is stagnant. She represents the life that Shadow had on the ARK, but more importantly, she represents SHADOWS innocence. Maria as a character is not her own story but rather a subpart of Shadows, and that is where we find the biggest difference with the Games and the movie. Dont even get me started on the almost religious imagery that follows her around. I mean, her names MARIA. Her roll is to be the center of love in Shadow’s life. Shes a sister, a best friend and even motherly at times. And while Shadow generations definetly gives us more of a laid back version of her, we can still see her maintain that untouchable rightousness that makes her character almost age-less. In a sense. She’s a child to highlight her innocence, yet in all other terms she really isn’t. Game Maria is an idea.

So what does the movies do then?

Movie!Maria

Sonic 3 saw all this and decided to do smth a bit different. To introduce such a compex narrative in a movie for children would definetly have been... Difficult, so instead they tone down the version a bit and make it their own thing. Who does Maria become? She becomes a CHARACTER.

Movie Maria is a child who is going to be living at a base filled with adults and scientists. She walks into the first scene with caution and nervousness, and yet as she meets Shadow, she finds a kin. And who we meet is a Maria that is goofy, mischevous, gleeful and daring. She’s a child here. She builds blanket forts, throws pop-corn at her brother, makes him driver her around on roller-skates and plays the guitar. Movie Maria is not ment to represent more than what she is, and still, it works. Movie Maria is innocent but she’s not the definition of it. She’s a person that shadow lost rather than an idea that he lost. The Maria we meet in the movie is a moving character that was abruptly stopped by external forces. She was always ment to have a future and a story, and yet she lost that. Movie Maria’s tragedy lies in her lost potential while Game Maria’s tragedy lies in her inevitable outcome. This also creates a difference in what they do to Shadows own personal journey, which ill get into more later.

So before that one more thing I love that they do with Movie Maria is that they still let her keep that inspirational part. She’s the one to inteoduce the line “the light shines even though the star is gone“ to Shadow and unknowingly ends up helping Shadow in his grief. While Game Maria is activly trying to bring positive change to Shadow’s life, Movie Maria uninentionally does that simply by showing kindness and love. She is still Shadows sister who was always there for him and loved him, just in a different light. She is still his moral compass. Shadow can be a good person because of her impact on his life, and in my opinion, as long as she fits the afformentioned categories then Maria can be whatever the writers want her to be.

So last but not least, lets talk abt her sickness.

Maria’s Sickness

Game Maria is deathly sick. Her days are numbered until a cure can be found, and the only hope left for her is Shadow. This creates a dependency between the two because suddenly, Shadow’s life isnt his own. He is alive for and because of Maria. She’s a part of his identity, so what happens when he loses that part of himself? This internal conflict directly influences Shadow’s self worth. Shadow is as much angry for losing her as he’s angry for losing himself. The very reason to why he says “goodbye shadow the hedgehog“ in Shadow 05 is because he can no longer be the same person after losing Maria. His goals and his dreams are haltered when the ARK gets invaded, ans it all leads back to Maria’s sickness.

Which is why... Well... The fact that the movie removes this part of Maria sure is... A choice.

And while I understand that showing a sick child who is then killed by the military would probbaly raise a few eyebrows from adults, that still doesnt change the fact that a very unique and important part of Shadows story was removed.

Movie Maria is there more or less on her own ackord. She has a future ahead of her. Her and Shadows relationship isn’t built on mutual depenency but rather as a circumstantional one. Which still works, dont get me wrong, but it does make the story just a tad more generic. Shadow is no longer angry for losing such a big part of his identity, he’s just doing the former part now. Grieving the most important person in his life, as well as his home.

This hardly ruins the story ofc, its just a different take on the story that, in all fairness, fits the vibe of the movie better. Bringing in terminal illness and conversations around that would definetly be a tough one. And because of them making Maria more of a character now it still works. She’s already an innocent and tragic character. She’s not ment to be innocence and tragedy incarnate like she is in the games. You get the point.

All in all. Almost perfect adaption of Maria in my opinion. I love movie Maria and it was such a clever way to go with the character. She and Shadow will always have a special place in my heart.

Hope you liked my little thought essay. I can talk abt Sonic characters all damn day 🫶

[kreayshawni]

Can you do something with Pete from the Eltingville Club maybe dating headcanons or something?

of course!! thanks so much for the request (╯▽╰ )

being in a relationship with pete would include...

like most of the members, he isn't too big on public displays of affection. especially if you're in the club. but he's much more touchy in private.

he keeps things that remind him of you, like pictures, hair ties, or your favorite gum flavor.

he's the worst person ever to sleep in the same bed with, you need to have a pillow separating you guys. or else you'll either wake up on the floor cause he kicked you off by accident, or his drool in your hair.

he's crazy freaky. he'll turn anything you say into something sexual. it doesn't matter

he's so embarrassed of his family he drags you into his room IMMEDIATELY whenever you come over. his mothers too doting, and his brothers are douches.

but whenever he's around your family, he switches personalities so quick it gives you whiplash. he's a complete gentleman around them.

he loves to play fight. it's always a wrestling match between you two, and you always pretend to actually get hurt so you can sneak attack him. but he eventually stopped believing you, so good luck whenever you for real get hurt!

he calls you the cringiest nicknames ever; woman, tits, nips, babe, babygirl if he feels like messing with you.

after arguments, he doesn't really apologize. it's mainly in a condescending way, like he actually doesn't believe it hurt your feelings. if you express that he did, he'll call you too sensitive.

''y'know i didn't really mean itt.. c'mon.''

he's very awkward with comforting people. but the most he can do is give you a very short hug, and attempt to get your mind off of whatever's upsetting you.

he'll force you to watch his favorite movies with him 'cause that's the only way of bonding and showing a more lovey-dovey side of affection without feeling like a fairy. it doesn't matter if you're not into horror, either.

he does that corny thing where you pretend to yawn and stretch to put your arm around the other's shoulder.

i'd honestly like to think he starts shaking like a scared chihuahua when you ignore him for too long, but i might just be dreamingg..

if you're gothic, he fucking loves watching you get ready. he'd be on cloud 9 if you offered to do juggalo makeup for him.

he loves seeing his clothes on you. it doesn't matter what size you are, wear his jacket as a blanket!

mainly cause he's got this weird thing for scents, after showers he just needs to sniff you for a while. maybe it's cause of his surroundings that're filled with pure filth, so having something that smells nice, like you, is a necessity.

he's actually a semi-okay boyfriend once you get past the gore fetish!

'' i love myself, i want you to love me, when i feel down, i want you above me ''