#might be kinda cringe but i enjoyed writing it

[ghost-proofbaby]

fictional boyfriends (e.m.)

summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.

warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.

wc: 2.5k+

a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink

It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.

Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.” 

Until that damn game.

When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections. 

“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle. 

“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“

“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”

For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now. 

“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“

“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”

You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.

More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention. 

“Fine.” 

The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.

He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.

“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not. 

“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?” 

“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”

“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”

“Well that makes one of us.” 

Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”

He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration. 

Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t. 

You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“

“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.” 

He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.

“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you. 

He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.

Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend. 

“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“

He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.

You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?” 

You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized. 

God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.

“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.” 

He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not.  You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.

“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”  

His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.

“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.

You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight. 

And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.

You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game. 

“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.” 

If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation. 

But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat. 

Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.

When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.

He bites.

Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.

You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?

If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.

He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture. 

Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of. 

“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault. 

He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent. 

Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of. 

“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it. 

“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.” 

Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.” 

He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”

“I do not-”

He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point. 

“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.” 

You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.” 

“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”

“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.” 

His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.

“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.” 

Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.

He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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#my writing #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #this is truly the dumbest thing i've ever written #i almost made it into proper smut but couldn't take the end seriously i'm sorry

[pathologicalreid]

Could you write a platonic Spencer X reader? Like she’s the new, youngest member on the team, he remembers how it feels like and kinda takes you under his wing.

neophyte | S.R.

next

in which dr. reid gives advice to help you cope with the requirements of your new job

who? spencer reid x fem!platonic!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: details from 1x6 "L.D.S.K.", mentions of killing an unsub, guns and general cm related violence. post prison reid.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi!! thank you! i had such a great time writing this! i love a good platonic reader fic <3. (side note i am currently working on making my way through all of my requests :-))

Your brows were furrowed in the dark, abandoned office that you darted into at the very first opportunity. Try as you might, you couldn’t forget the way your last case ended.

Some agents wore their first takedown like a badge of honor, but you had no interest in looking at this like an accomplishment.

You rubbed at your eyes, he was a killer, he had a knife to a teenager's throat, and yet, you felt bad that you had killed him. Emily had assured you that it was a clean shoot and you were right to kill him, but you didn’t care that it was a clean shoot. You cared that someone was dead, and you were the one who pulled the trigger. Shouldn’t it matter to you that by taking one life, you likely saved several others in the process?

Glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone could see you, you turned sharply into the empty office. It had been left abandoned years ago by Agent Morgan, and now you were grateful for the empty space. If you were going to cry, at least you could do it in peace.

The events kept playing in your head, the UnSub held the knife to the kid’s throat, and you asked him to let the kid go, but he knew he was going to jail anyway. The temptation of another kill was too good for him to turn down. You saw the flex of his wrist as he prepared himself to kill, and you pulled the trigger.

You struck him right between his eyes. You promptly walked the teenager to reunite with his parents before you snuck around the side of the building and hurled before returning to the rest of the team like all was well and good.

“Y/N?” A voice whispered into the office, and you braced yourself for someone to tell you that you shouldn’t be in there, you looked up and saw Reid, he had his token leather satchel over his shoulder like he was ready to leave. “Are you alright?”

Haphazardly, you wiped at the tears on your face and smiled weakly, “Yeah, I’m good.” You lied through your teeth, “Just uh…” you desperately tried to find a reason for being in the empty office, “enjoying the scenery.” You cringed inwardly, a five-year-old wouldn’t believe you, let alone a seasoned profiler.

Like you had done earlier, Spencer looked behind him before entering the office, he set his bag on the floor and slid his back down the wall, so he was sitting next to you on the floor. “So, how are you enjoying the blank walls?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, “I am enjoying myself immensely, thank you very much.”

“So, what’s wrong?” He asked, nudging your arm gently.

Hesitantly, you turned to face Spencer. Kind, non-judgmental Spencer who had once lent you a book on the jet because you were bored. “I killed him,” you whispered. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

You watched as realization dawned on him, “Did Emily say it was a clean shoot?” He straightened his legs out in front of him.

Nodding, you went back to staring straight ahead. “Yeah, she said I gave him ample opportunity to cede and that I performed as necessary.” You took a deep breath and fiddled with the hem of your jacket, “but I didn’t… I’ve never…” How could you explain this to Spencer without sounding like a kid?

“You’ve never killed anyone before,” he finished for you. “Even though he was a serial killer and he would’ve killed that teenager, you still killed him.”

You sighed despondently, “Profilers.”

Reid leaned back against the wall. In your peripheral vision, you could see the light from the hallway as it fed into the office. “I had the same problem after I killed someone for the first time,” he admitted to you.

Your head snapped to face him. Quite frankly, you had a hard time believing him, Spencer was a BAU veteran at this point. “You did?” You whispered.

He nodded, “Philip Dowd,” he said, making a face like the name felt foreign to him now. “He would’ve killed me, our old unit chief, and an emergency room full of hostages had I not done it, but I still couldn’t convince myself it was justified.” He shrugged, “I didn’t sleep well for weeks afterward.”

Turning to face him, you tilted your head in curiosity, “How did you figure it out? How did you manage?”

“I had someone who could give me advice,” he told you pointedly. “I put pictures of his victims up in my room, so I had something to remind me why I’m doing this,” he answered. “I won’t lie to you, it’s never going to be something enjoyable about this job. Taking someone’s life is…. Brutal, but saving lives makes it tolerable.”

Silent tears streamed down your face, “I wish he had just put the knife down. It doesn’t feel like justice.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, “Sometimes it doesn’t, but that family that you reunited today? They’ll never forget you.” He reassured you, and you remembered the tears from that mother as she hugged you and thanked you for saving her son's life.

“For the good of the many, right?” You asked bitterly.

He hummed, “If that’s how you have to look at it, yeah, but if you don’t know how you have to look at it to feel normal yet, that’s okay too.” He swept a strand of hair from his face, “The point I’m trying to make is that I had someone to help me navigate all of this, and I think you could use that too.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Like a guru?” You asked, a light smile on your face.

“I was thinking more like a mentor, but sure. I could be your BAU guru,” he said, the grin plain in his voice.

Then the moment left as quickly as it came, you still couldn’t get the way the blood drained from his body out of your mind. You wiped a tear from under your eyes, “I can do this, Reid,” you assured him.

He reached over your head to a tissue box on top of a table, handing you the box, he answered, “I know you can. Emily wouldn’t have handpicked you from the academy if you didn’t have what it takes. You’re just what the BAU needs, and if you decide to stay, you’ll be perfect here.”

Unable to help it, you scoffed, “How do you just know that?”

“I’ve seen a lot of people come and go from the BAU, but no one who reminds me so much of myself. And I’ve been here for long enough that I hope you take those words for what they’re worth,” he answered you, not even bothered by your indignation. He stood first, reaching a hand out to help you to your feet, “You have my phone number, right?”

You furrowed your brows as you stood, “uh, yeah.” Garcia had programmed them herself on your very first day.

Spencer nodded, “Good. If you ever need help processing the job, or anything else, you can call. Or text. I’m usually better with calls. Any time, okay, Y/N?”

You cocked your head at him, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he answered simply as if it was obvious.

And just like that, he grabbed his bag and turned around. Heading into the elevator, he waved as the doors shut and you watched, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

next

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x platonic!reader

[jaegersdevil]

it's a bad idea, right? - eren jaeger

Ex!Eren x Fem!Reader

summary: seeing your ex after a night out… it’s a bad idea, right? cw: 18+, smut (afab!reader, unprotected sex, creampie), exes to lovers, swearing. w/c: 4.5k a/n: first time writing a ~proper~ smut, kinda bad, kinda fucking terrified to post but, we move 💪 olivia's new song is perfect for an exes to lovers whore such as myself, so i had to use it in a fic. enjoy :) masterlist

Despite having the same friends, you hadn’t seen or heard from your ex for 2 months. The break-up was mutual, something about growing apart and wanting different things. Sure, you were upset, devastated even, but something inside you that knew you’d hold him again. And somehow, that one sliver of hope had wrapped around your heart and held it hostage. 

It’s how you found yourself at Moose with your two friends, Hitch and Annie, on the brink of passing out. The club’s multicoloured lights gave you a headache, and the generous amount of alcohol you had consumed an hour earlier started to wear off, but you continued to dance, laugh, and sing with the two girls. 

You held your phone in your hand as you threw your arms in the air. The room was lively and had been the best night you’d had at Moose in the past few months (or maybe it was because you knew who would call you tonight…). 

But when Hitch slapped you on the arm, and the phone in your hand started vibrating simultaneously, you had an inkling of who was calling.

“Don’t answer it,” Hitch yelled over the music, her eyes narrowed. 

You shrugged and, without looking, declined the call. “Who was it?”

“Don’t act dumb,” She shook her head, still jumping around. 

You rolled your lips between your teeth, and your heart started pounding faster. There was only one person who could elicit that tone from Hitch. 

You kept a playful smile on your face, and it remained when your phone rang again. But, this time, you faced the screen toward your body so the girls wouldn’t see. 

Eren’s name flashed on the screen, along with his contact photo: him with bedhead, shirtless, with the biggest smile on his face. Why his contact was still in your phone, with that specific photo, was beyond you, but all questions were out of your head when you turned around and left the dance floor without explanation. 

Swiping right to answer, you brought your phone to your ear. “What?” It probably wasn’t the most polite thing to say, but you were half-drunk, and your feet hurt. 

“Hi to you too, baby.” 

The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. It was the first time you’d heard his voice in months. 

“Eren,” You said, squeezing through groups to get to the bar. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m great, actually, now that I’m talking to you.”  

You could hear the smirk in his voice over the music, and that’s when you could tell you were in trouble. “What’s up?” 

He hummed into the receiver, but you could barely catch it. “Wanna come over tonight?” 

“Why?” You asked, but it was playful. 

“I got a new place. Wanna give you a tour.” 

“Do you? Well, where was this call, I don’t know, a month ago?” 

Eren groaned into his phone. “Just come! Please, I miss you.” 

You paused as you were adjusting your spot on the bar stool. “You want me to come over?” 

“Do you want to come over?” 

“Yes,” Your voice was breathless as you answered, and Eren’s soft laughter in the background wasn’t helping. “As friends.” 

“Okay, yeah. I’ll text you the address, bestie,” He said. “Can’t wait to see you.” 

And then he hung up. You knew what he wanted because you wanted it too. 

Flashes of Eren played on a loop in your head: the last time you saw him, the first time, him smiling at you in that cocky way of his, his body on top of yours, his under yours… it was insanity.

“Why’d you leave?” Hitch shouted in your ear. You jumped, a guilty look on your face that you hoped she and Annie wouldn’t notice. 

“I feel sick. I think I might go home,” You cringed at how the words came out of your mouth. 

And when Annie side-eyed Hitch, you knew they knew you were lying. 

“I’ll just get an Uber,” You unlocked your phone and clicked on the app, receiving a text from Eren simultaneously. 

How convenient. 

Typing in 843 Campanula Street, CS Apartments, you knew you should stop, but you couldn’t. A car popped up: 5 minutes away. 

Getting up to leave, you knew they would follow you outside. So, you held Hitch’s hand and pulled her, who pulled Annie out of the crowd and out of the entrance. You adjusted your purse on your shoulder and stepped out into the warm night air. 

“You should probably not see Eren tonight. You’re not in the right headspace,” Hitch said behind you. She knew you were lying about feeling sick, so you may as well play into it.

“Can’t two people reconnect?” You teased, glancing over your shoulder. 

“Bullshit,” Annie stated boredly. 

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

“Listen, I only see him as a friend,” You rolled your eyes. “We’re done, we’re through, we’re never ever getting back together, okay?” 

Hitch and Annie shared a look. You’d just told the biggest lie you’ve ever said. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” You looked down the road for your Uber.

Then Hitch choked out a laugh and Annie sighed. You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“We just don’t want you to get hurt again,” Hitch said softly after she finished coughing. 

You shook your head. “I won’t. Besides, I’m going straight home. I’ll ask him what’s up in the morning.” 

Hitch nodded knowingly. “Yeah, okay. Have fun at home. Text us when you get there.” 

Your Uber pulled up next to the curb. You smiled at Hitch and wrapped your arms around her neck. “See you.”

Turning toward Annie, you only grinned, making her look more bored. “Don’t be an idiot.” 

You threw your hands up in defence. “I’m not. I’m going home.”

“Bye then,” Annie waved and turned to reenter the club. Hitch stayed a little longer to ensure the Uber left, waving enthusiastically after it. 

You knew you should stop, but you couldn’t. 

Fuck it, it’s fine. 

—

When the elevator dinged, you stepped out onto the second floor. It was a nice complex with white walls, gold door handles, and dark, clean carpet, an upgrade from his previous apartment complex just off-campus. 

The floor was quiet for a Saturday night, except for the bass from party music coming from the lower floor. The carpet was plush under your feet, and the hanging lights were gold too. Maybe you were more tipsy than you thought as you picked out details you would’ve before. 

You saw nobody as you passed the first apartments. But, as you turned the corner of the hallway, Eren was standing in the doorway of the last apartment with a cocky grin. 

“Hey,” he called. You looked around and hushed him. It was 1am, after all. “Pish, they’re probably all out anyway.”

You felt your face heat up when you got closer, feeling self-conscious in your party dress and shoeless feet. But you couldn’t stop looking at him. Somehow, in the last 2 months, Eren had gotten more attractive. His black t-shirt was taut against his chest and biceps. His hair was pulled back into its usual half-bun, but the pieces in the front made him look prettier. You swore you’d seen someone much hotter for your sanity, but nobody came to mind. God, he really encapsulated everything you’d ever want and need. 

“Seeing you tonight… It’s a bad idea, right?” You giggled, swinging your heels in your hand. 

“I’d say it’s the best idea ever, but depends on who you ask,” His eyes raked up your body as you walked toward him. “Besides, just friends, right?”

The dimple you’d missed appeared on his cheek as he smirked, and your confidence grew. 

“We’re the best of friends,” At the sound of your voice so low and sultry, Eren blinked. 

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and when you reached him, his hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your cheek flush against his chest. The action didn’t surprise you because you would do the same. 

“Hi,” He whispered before pushing you away, his hands still on your shoulders.

You were going to speak, but your brain short-circuited. The rational side of your brain continuously asked you why, why, why, while the other side screamed at you to kiss him. It was a jumble of static and blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren… 

All you could think about was him. 

Fuck it, it’s fine!

“Wanna show me,” You paused, flickering your eyes to his. The usual bright green of his eyes turned darker, and his grip on your shoulders tightened—his hands were burning your skin. “The apartment?” 

This seemed to snap Eren out of his daze because he shook his head to rid his thoughts, then nodded, stepping back and widening the door to welcome you. 

“Uh, yeah, so…” Eren stumbled, closing the door behind him. “This is the apartment.” 

You walked inside, placing your purse on the granite kitchen counter and your heels on the floor. 

“It’s lovely,” You muttered. From the couch to the posters and photos on the walls, it was so Eren, but it was mature. And it was lovely, different, attractive, but your attention wasn’t on the decor. It was on the owner of said decor, but you weren’t going to make that obvious yet. 

Eren rubbed the back of his neck as he watched you look around the space: into the open-plan living room, down the small hallway to the bathroom and the spare bedroom, and then back into the kitchen and to the lone door on the other side of the living room. 

“Your bedroom?” You asked, your voice light. You weren’t giving anything away yet. It was risky being here in the first place. There were reasons why you broke up, but you didn’t care at that moment. This was more fun than ignoring each other. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eren teased, breaking out of his frozen state to meet you at the door. 

The air was charged like it used to be, but you dismissed it, making a beeline for the couch—a large L-shaped black leather lounge. As soon as you sat down, all the aching in your back dissipated as you sunk deeper into the throw cushions. You groaned in relaxation, propping your feet up.

“Why do you always get the comfiest couches?” You closed your eyes. “S’not fair.” 

Eren didn’t say anything as you shuffled around to get comfortable, pulling the hem of your dress down your legs. He looked at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 01:47.

“You tired, hm?” He asked, and you nodded, pretending to yawn. Eren narrowed his eyes when you did so. He’d seen that action before, the lesser version of your actual yawn—he’d seen the real one too many times to know when you were faking. 

“Guess I’ll take you home then.” 

Your eyes snapped open, and you shook your head. But when you saw Eren, a cocky smirk rested on his face, much like when you arrived. 

“I knew you were faking,” He laughed, stalking toward you. You pouted and looked up at him, your gaze catching his for a second before you looked away. 

“A more detailed tour, please,” You reached out your hand, and Eren pulled you up. 

The momentary touch of skin on skin was enough to fry your brain for a few minutes as you mechanically followed him into the bathroom, where you washed your face with his face wash, then into the spare bedroom to look at the view from the window, and finally, into Eren’s bedroom off the living room. 

Nothing was said as you entered, but the smell of his room was the same as it had always been—it was just in a different space without you to experience it. Cedar, geranium, bergamot, apple. It was the scent you bought him for his 19th birthday 4 years ago when you first started dating. You were stepping into a time machine, and all the emotions that came with it hit you in the face. 

You willed yourself not to cry as you turned your back to him to look over his desk. You ignored the few extra things he’d gathered without you in the two months you’d be apart, but it was all the same. It was Eren. 

“You like it?” He mumbled, the heat on your back making sense. You didn’t realise how close he was standing until he spoke, his hands on the desk beside you, caging you in. 

“It’s very you, Ren. The whole thing,” You spun around, your hips against his. “I really like it.” 

He smiled in relief and let his eyes wander your expression, recounting every mark, pore, scar on your face that he had memorised. It was all the same. You were still you. 

“I’m glad,” He breathed. “Thanks, bestie.” 

But you didn’t laugh. Your eyes were focused on his mouth. The realisation made Eren lick his lips again, but you noticed they twitched with anticipation this time. 

“This okay?” You whispered, slowly wounding your arms around his neck and pushing your hips harder against his. 

“You’re kidding, right?” He smirked, gaining his confidence back. His hands slid from the desk to your hips, and he leaned closer, breaths mixing, lips lingering. “I missed you so fucking much.” 

Eren’s lips brushed yours as he spoke. And you almost caved. Your fingers played with the loose hairs of his half-bun, and the action reminded you that you’d done this before, more than you could count—but never in the situation you were in right then. 

“Fuck it.” 

You don’t know who made the first move, but soon Eren was swiping everything off his desk and onto the floor so he could lift you onto his desk. You spread your legs apart and locked your ankles around his hips, pulling him closer. The kisses were sloppy and hasty, making up for lost time. You smiled when he began pushing the hem of your dress higher, his teeth tapping yours as he grinned too. 

Panting into each other’s mouths, you slid your hands down his chest and into the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“I want these off,” You mumbled, getting your nails under his briefs and pulling them down with his pants.

“Well, I want this off,” Eren laughed, reaching behind you to fiddle with the zipper on the back. The sudden exposure of your back to the hot air of his bedroom sent goosebumps over your skin. 

The front of your dress began to loosen, and soon, Eren pulled away from you, his hands carefully dragging the straps of your dress down your arms. His sweats were halfway down his legs, and his briefs sat awkwardly over his ass, but he couldn’t care less, not when you looked the way you did. 

The more you reflect on that night, the more you disagree. The thought of being in a club not an hour ago left you feeling gross and probably smelling gross too. But at that moment, you didn’t care because you were with him, in his new room and apartment, and all you could think about was him.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren… 

Eren laughed breathlessly at the sight of your tits, and when your dress was at your waist, he cupped them with his palms. “Fuck, I missed you.” 

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren… 

When Eren leaned down to press kisses to your neck, you reached your hands to play with his hair again. “I… missed you… too.”

“Tell me what you want,” He breathed heavily into the space under your ear when he heard you struggle around the words. 

You whined in response, tilting your head back.

He laughed lowly. “I know you know how to use your words, pretty girl.” 

The pet name caused a moan to escape your throat, and soon you were clenching around nothing. Your mind was far away, head in the clouds, from being with him like this again. “You…” 

“Where?” He pulled away from your neck, his lips plump. “Where do you want me?” 

“Eren…” You frowned, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him. Eren’s eyes retraced your expression, his hands brushing stray strands from your face. 

A cheeky grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re so damn cute.” 

“Everywhere,” You finalised, leaning up to capture his lips with yours. 

Eren got the message and wrapped his large hands under your thighs to pick you up. Your legs remained around him as he expertly approached the bed without looking. 

“Gotten a lot of practice at that?” You joked, breathless. 

But, Eren shook his head and kissed your cheek. “There’s only ever been you.” 

The thought brought heat to your ears, cheeks, and body, and soon, you were burning. “Me too.” 

“Fuck,” He half-laughed, half-groaned, laying you on the bed. Eren gave you a crazy grin before he opened his mouth, biting your shoulder. You tried to push him away, giggling, but you never forgot his strength. He went down your body, pulling your dress down your legs as he went, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your stomach. Gripping the sheets, you arched, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the feverish marks they leave. But before he reached your underwear, he sat back his heels and pulled his shirt over his head by the back collar—like he always did. 

There was nothing to be shy about, you’d done this a thousand times with him, but you placed a hand on your torso nonetheless. When Eren noticed this, he furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Nuh, uh, no being shy around me,” he whispered and picked your hand up, holding it as he leaned over you. You quickly spread your legs to make room for him between them, and he wasted no time filling the space, tucking his other arm underneath your shoulders and lifting you up so your chests were flush. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and will ever see, understand? Us not being together doesn’t change that.” 

You sighed, tears springing in the corners of your eyes. Maybe it was the moment or the weeks of not speaking to the one man you trusted with your life, but you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out next. 

“I love you,” You mumbled, lifting your free hand up to fun through his hair, pulling the rest out of the bun. 

Eren smiled a tender smile you knew all too well, which he reserved for you during moments like this. “And I love you. I’m gonna show you how much, okay? Will you let me do that?” Eren’s voice was soft and warm, your skin ablaze, and your heart grew tenfold. 

You nodded, searching his eyes with your own. All you saw was tenderness, infatuation, and everything you had grown accustomed to in the last 4 years. You pressed your lips against him in a quick peck in response to his original question. 

Eren laid your body back onto the bed, trailing his hand down your side and into your underwear. You gasped at the coldness of his fingers as they dragged through your slit. 

“So wet, baby,” Two of his fingers started rubbing circles around your clit, making you arch into him. ��Miss me?” 

“I thought we’d already established that, Jaeger… shit,” You squeezed your eyes shut when he pushed two fingers into you. 

“Don’t get sassy with me. You know how that goes,” Eren smirked, watching you fall apart from just his fingers. 

“Eren, don’t—oh fuck,” You moaned as soon as you felt his fingers go precisely where they needed to, his thumb on your clit. He knew you inside out, and you knew he was getting off on that thought. 

Pure white pleasure set fire to your insides as you climaxed, though the embarrassment of cumming so hard on just his fingers never came. Because it always ended like this. 

You looked down at your hips, where his hand was inside your underwear, and nearly blacked out from the sheer familiarity of your first time with him. “Take those off right now. We are not repeating our first time.” 

Eren barked a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled them down your legs. “I thought it’d be cute,” He mumbled. 

“Get up here,” You scolded, but the demand was lazy and playful, making Eren want you more (if possible).

He climbed up your body again, his pants and briefs on the floor, as his cock rested against your stomach when he kissed you. There was no time to be wasted, not when you’d waited months for this to feel him again. You always knew you would hold him again. 

Eren sat up, and you wrapped your hand around his cock, lazily pumping him a few times. He was hot and heavy in your fist, and the feeling was delicious. “I haven’t even touched you yet,” You giggled. 

His eyes found your core, where you were dripping onto his dark sheets and clenching nothing, and the sight made Eren moan and screw his eyes closed. “It’s just you… fuck Y/n.” 

And then you took your hand off him, and Eren’s jaw fell open, looking down at you.

“C’mon,” He whined, and you shook your head, laying back on his bed. 

“Fuck me, Eren.” 

At your crude words, Eren bit his bottom lip to stop his smile. “Yes, ma’am.” 

He hovered over you, his hair brushing your cheeks as he looked down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds a few times, causing you to jolt, before he sunk the tip into you. 

The stretch was like coming home after a long time away, burning with slight pain before the pleasure took over. You welcomed him back into you. Circling your arms around his neck, you buried your hands in his dark locks, pulling the way you knew he loved. 

“Jesus,” Eren cursed lowly when he bottomed out; the sensation of you around him was one he’d never forget. “You good?” 

“Yeah, baby,” You squeezed his sides with your knees, dragging your nails softly along his scalp. He didn’t move for a beat, eyes trained on your nose's scrunch and relieved smile. 

“Good girl,” He whispered, pecking your lips as he rocked in and out of you. Your hands pulled at his hair harder than before, and he groaned into your lips, your mouths touching but not kissing. “You’re so tight, fuck.”

And when he picked up his pace, you cried out into his mouth, the feeling and sound of his body on top of yours familiar and obscene. Above you, Eren made the pretty sounds you’d once begged to hear again. And soon, perhaps too soon, your stomach twisted into a coil again, his thrusts becoming too much when he continually hit that one spot like he always did. His voice became rough and desperate, panting your name before the volume increased. 

Words tumbled out of his mouth sloppily, curses and jumbled questions, and your name. His usual deep groans turned to whimpers, and the sound made you reach your high faster. 

“Close?’” Eren asked, running a hand down your body to find your clit, fingers slippery as they circled quick. 

“Mmhm, yeah,” You mumbled, nodding sporadically and arching your body to mould to his, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

And then, the coil in your stomach snapped, and the white-hot flash that burned you from inside set you ablaze. Your body opened up for him, and Eren chased to meet you at the top, his movements becoming sloppy as he fucked you through your high. You’re too sensitive, warm, and wet, but Eren came inside, filling you fully.

He groaned deep into your ear, shuddering, and at that moment, you vowed to never let him go again.

—

After your activities last night, Eren gave you his favourite t-shirt and wrapped you up nice and tight in his sheets. You kissed him repeatedly, making promises under the blanket of night, the moon your witness. Never again would you leave, not when you knew him like you did, when you’d spent four years of your life moulding to each other. You cried, Eren cried, you laughed, he held you, you flicked his forehead, he tickled you. It was like you’d never said the words that caused the downward spiral of your life in the first place. 

Reaching over to grab your phone off the bedside table, your notifications were filled with messages on messages from your group chat with Hitch and Annie, and… Reiner?

07:24 Hitch: Where are you?????? Answer pls!!!!

07:59 Annie: Y/n istg 

08:50 You: Sorry I was asleep

08:50 Hitch: Thank god 

08:51 Hitch: We’re gonna facetime rn 

You groaned and turned your head toward a sleeping Eren. His hair was all over the place, his face innocent and soft, his skin golden and back bare. He was all you could ever want and more.

You slowly lifted the charcoal grey duvet to swing your legs out and sat up. Your entire body ached, and your legs shook as you stood up. Stifling a laugh of embarrassment, you tiptoed out of his room, careful of the one creaking floorboard he’d warned you about the night before.

It wasn’t until you got to the living room that your phone vibrated with an incoming group Facetime. 

“Hi,” You said tiredly, trying to block as much background as possible; they knew your apartment better than you did. 

“Good morning,” Hitch glared through the screen. Annie said nothing. 

“What happened to your neck? Hm?” The brunette asked, her voice accusatory. 

You moved toward the couch, sitting on the lush black leather, tucking a pillow behind your back. “Oh, I tripped and fell—”

“Yeah, into Eren’s bed,” Annie cut you off. 

Hitch muffled a laugh, and you stared at her in disbelief. 

Your mouth opened and closed with no sound. “No?” You visibly cringed when the usual statement came out as a question. 

“Y/n!” Hitch yelled, a smile taking over her false scold. Annie rolled her eyes with a hint of a smirk. Then, all that could be heard was laughter. 

“Well, at least you’re okay. I mean, it’s just Eren,” Hitch giggled. You smiled at her, grateful for your friends. 

“Oh! Reiner texted me too,” You suddenly remembered seeing his name on your lock screen. 

“Reiner?” The confusion in Hitch’s voice matched the thoughts in your mind. Why would Reiner text you privately?

You clicked around your phone until you opened Reiner’s message. 

02:49 Reiner: i’m happy for u and all, but pls stfu

But you couldn't find it in yourself to care, even after the realisation that all your friends knew you'd slept together washed over you. Because all you cared about was him.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

a/n: prologue

#reiner lives next door btw #besties o'clock!!! #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren smut #eren x you #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager imagines #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager x you #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #— ann writes!

[hazbinpage]

Lucifer x Reader HCs

(In which your relationship is romantic and you both live in the hotel.)

WC is 1741

(A/N: I love Lucifer so much. What a man. That being said, he's probably really OOC in this: we've only seen his character in a select few situations, none of which demonstrate how he treats his romantic partner or bonds with people he doesn't know, and I haven't read enough fics about him to decide what I like. Additionally, I'm not the best at writing romance at this point, so hopefully nothing is too off lol! With the disclaimers out of the way, please enjoy and lmk what you think! :))

-He isn't very fond of sinners, and while his perspective on them has changed since joining the hotel, his opinion certainly hasn't flipped 180 degrees. How could it have? Good deeds never made the news in Hell, and the dead he was forced to interact with were powerful. Powerful sinners were never innocent; no one becomes an overlord by accident. Centuries upon centuries of talking to the powerful, witnessing only violence and hatred, will not be undone by a single moment of comradery in war — a battle where he couldn't know if the sinners were acting solely in their own self-interest.

-This is why, when you first arrive at the hotel, he's fairly aloof. He'll be polite, of course; he has no reason not to be (especially while lowkey still trying to win over his daughter), but will hold himself distant.

-Despite this, he admits you're kinda cute....

-You don't see him often, which doesn't help with his distance — he isn't used to being around so many people, and while he's pretty charismatic and extroverted, he's also still depressed and has a habit of self-isolating when he's going through it (which is often). He only really comes out for his daughter's sake.

-To get to know him faster than his changing perspective and mental challenges would otherwise allow, you could: one, approach him directly! Be friendly, open, and interested in his hobbies. This only works if you do the same for the others, though. If you don't, he might see your advances as manipulation. Two, you could develop a relationship with Charlie. Support her, believe in her cause, and have her back. He'll see you helping his daughter and will want to understand you further. Three, you could talk about ducks. That'll get him. He'll approach you eventually and strike up a conversation.

-If you don't do any of these things, that's fine; he'll just get to know you at the same pace that he gets to know the others. He'll slowly open up to the idea that not all sinners are violent psychopaths, become more comfortable with the rest of the crew, and realize how well he connects with you over a period of several months.

- Lucifer catches feelings pretty fast once you start hanging out for real. He's enamored with you: not only are you cute as fuck, but his daughter loves you, and you're the nicest sinner he's ever met (while kindest of the damned is not a hard-earned title, it's one he appreciates nonetheless).

-Once he realizes he's caught feelings, he'll ask Charlie for permission to ask you out. He doesn't want to pursue you if she isn't comfortable with it; she's already got familial issues, and he doesn't want a sudden shift in the family dynamic to hurt her further. If she says yes (which, if she likes you, she probably will), he'll ask you out to dinner.

-Prepare for the first date to be really awkward. Even if you've known him for a while at this point, he's incredibly nervous — he hasn't done anything romantic in a good while, and the last time he tried a relationship, it didn't work out. The whole time, he's fumbling over his words and cringing at himself, saying things he doesn't mean to while trying to be suave. When he escorts you back home after a very bumpy evening, he'll be downtrodden. He messed things up, just as he knew he would, and now you probably hate him; thoughts of self-loathing and regret swirl in his mind until you say you'll pay him back next time (he blinks up at you owlishly. "Next time? Like...another date?" You confirm his thoughts. "Oh--- oh! Yes, absolutely! I mean, no, no need to pay me back; of course not, but next time sounds good! How does this Saturday at 3 sound?").

-A couple of dates in, and he's feeling more confident, which reflects in his now far more self-assured demeanor and smooth language. He's a silver-tongued devil, after all, and he has to live up to his name.

-If all goes well, after about a month, he realizes he wants you to be his partner. He, once again, gets Charlie's permission and brainstorms with some of your friends about how to pop the question. Initially, he wants to impress you, pulling out the big guns and whisking you off your feet on the balcony of a lavish black-tie restaurant rented for just the two of you. After some discussion among your peers and deliberation of his own, though, he decides to do something else. He invites you to his tower, where he's prepared a handmade dinner with candles and soft music in the background. The food isn't particularly good (he can't cook very well and enlisted Vaggie and Nifty's help to make his dish edible), and the smoke from the candles stopped being pleasant about a half an hour in, but regardless, you both have a wonderful time, laughing about his lack of culinary skills and the excessively warm room. He asks if you would like to be his lover at the end of the evening, nervous but somehow also self-assured, and is overjoyed when you say yes. The next day, he parades you around the hotel, bragging that you said yes and talking about you to anyone who'd listen.

-If he wasn't big on physical affection before he got so lonely, he is now. While his hands might not constantly be on you, they've come close to that, especially if he's going through a hard time. Expect lots of hand-holding, arm-looping, cuddling, and kissing. He likes resting his head on yours (or your shoulder, depending on how tall you are) while he wraps his arms around you (or the reverse — he loves being cradled), you both sitting together on the couch. He also has a habit of rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of your hand while holding it.

-Smother his face with kisses, his cartoony heart-eyes expression will look a tenth lovestruck as he feels.

-You receive frequent duck memes, duck-themed gifts, and duck dissertations. He doesn't go around parading his interest, but if he trusts you, he can't keep himself from wanting to share everything about his hyperfixation. He's concerned about being annoying, though, and while you could try to curb his insecurity by telling him he's not, the best reassurance is to match his energy: talk about your own obsessions and be just as weird about them as he is. Not only does he feel better about himself, but he gets to talk with you for extended periods of time, your eyes alight and grin large. He'll probably try to get into whatever you talk about, wanting to connect with you further.

-He likes giving you gifts in general. Especially those that show you're in a relationship with him, like wearable apple or goat paraphernalia. While he does enjoy gift-giving for its own sake, he's insecure and doesn't want anyone to think they can cross him by taking you. If you give him anything duck-themed, handmade, or (heavens help him) both, especially without reason? He will melt. He loves it; he can feel the thought and effort you put in for him and feels known and loved.

- He’s kinda clingy; he likes being around you as often as possible and gets nervous if you're gone too long; if you leave for more than a day, he's like a koala when you return. It's comforting to him to know where you are, but it’s even more comforting when you tell him how much you love him before you go. His self-esteem isn't at a record low, but it certainly isn't high, and he has huge abandonment issues. Every once in a while, because of this, he'll grow distant; his thoughts of being undeserving or theories about how you're going to leave him become too much, and he semi-subconsciously pulls away to protect himself. Be patient with him during these times; show him how much you care and how you would never leave. Tell him you love him as he is. The first time you say so, he'll cry in your arms and snuggle you for hours.

-He'll become less clingy and insecure as your relationship goes on, but will always rather be with you than alone.

- He's majorly protective. He knows what it's like in Hell, and he knows that by dating you, he's put a target on your back, which only adds to your lack of safety. He will pull all the strings he has in order to keep you safe, whether that means accompanying you when you're out and about, actively keeping you away from overlords, or tracking your phone without your knowledge. He feels bad about some of his less savory means of protection, but not bad enough to stop. The thought of your death haunts him too much to let you be.

-Similarly, though he won't ever admit it, your redemption keeps him up at night. If you're redeemed and go up to heaven, he can't see you anymore — maybe ever. He knows you want to better yourself and tries his best to support you in your improvement, but sometimes his fear gets to be too much. In those moments, he has to spend some time alone before he tries to sabotage your progress in any way — any more than he already has.

-It's hard to tell what his love language is because he uses all of them. He wants to spend time with you (though he will give you a break if you need one; he understands needing to be alone, even if it makes him nervous), give you gifts, be touchy, do things for you, and tell you how wonderful he thinks you are. He wants you to know just how much he cares in every way he can and will be receptive to any form of love in return.

-He doesn't use as many pet names as some of the rest of the cast would, but he does use them! He likes calling you sweetheart and angel-eyes the most.

-Overall, he has a lot of insecurities and mental health problems to work through, but tries his best to be the best partner he can be for you. It's hard work to improve himself, but if you'll have him, he'll stay by your side forever.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #my writing #my hcs #lucifer/reader #reader is a sinner

[wisteriaiswriting]

Hello! May I request for Sova, Iso, Gekko, Jett, cypher, and Reyna reacting to a reader who absolutely loves sour things? For example she eats lemons like oranges in a daily basis and eats super sour candy like it's nothing

𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕪 ℙ𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕪 𝕃𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕊𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕫𝕪

Words: 864

𝕊𝕠𝕧𝕒:

He’ll search around for any type of sour recipes, to either make them himself or find someone else if he has a lack of time.

Most of the time he’ll try the food, whether or not he actually likes them (I imagine him as a spicer type.) you’ll be able to have the majority.

***

Hours ago he left, and the only answer you got when asked was ‘Market.’ It seemed he was planning something as he would normally tell you, and even ask if you would accompany him.

This time though you were left in the dark until he returned. Which luckily wasn’t too long ago, now you had to endure him removing you from the kitchen for who knows how long. First he leaves you then bans you from your own house? What was he up to?

Well luck seemed to be on your side today as he was quick to call for you. Returning to see a bunch of packets on the counter, a closer inspection only showed Russian writing on them. Even with the images you had no clue.

“Y/N, I believe you’ve been asking about my homelands candy?”

Oh…

𝕀𝕤𝕠:

Majority of the time he just… doesn’t notice the amount of sour stuff you eat.

The only items he notices are the wrappers, fruits and other foods, although he won’t question you about it.

***

Recently Iso had started noticing a few things. Such as candy wrappers, especially sour candy. The fruit bowls had more lemons and other citrus fruits then the normal ones, the pantry was similar.

It wasn’t weird though, he had his preferences and you had yours. It just seemed to be sour food. While he wouldn’t eat it much if you enjoyed it he wouldn’t complain.

𝔾𝕖𝕜𝕜𝕠:

He’s learnt to handle anything but sour growing up.

If you eat anything sour in his sight he will openly cringe, might say something as well.

***

Gekko was bored. Everyone else was either on a mission or just too busy to deal with him, except you. He found you in the kitchen, eating what he assumed were grapes, from a bowl.

“Mateo, what some?” You held your hand out, which held the fruits. Ones he took gracefully. The sweet flavour never showed, instead covered by immediate sourness. Causing him to spit them out.

“What was that?”

“Hmm?”

“Those!” He pointed at the mess.

“Oh, they’re Gooseberries.”

𝕁𝕖𝕥𝕥:

She's cooked and tasted more than her fair share of sour food, so she’s learnt how to handle it.

Is aware not many people can handle sour well, but that won’t stop her from teasing anyone.

***

It was Jett’s turn to make dinner, and this time she made Tungsuyuk. She’s grown so used to cooking for the both of you she honestly forgot how others couldn’t handle the sourness of it.

But she also made yours special, able to give you a larger portion. Even then the others couldn’t handle it.

“Jett! What did you put in this?”

“C’mon Neon, I thought you could handle this?” Turns out she couldn’t, watching the group either give up or drink more water.

ℂ𝕪𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣:

Due to his connections and access, if there's something you want he’ll be able to get it, the only problem is if he will.

He is kinda a picky eater, also much prefers spice over sour. So he won’t try many, only a select few me might enjoy.

***

The mission brief had just finished, and unluckily for you Cypher managed to scurry off from you. So until he came back around you’d have to either entertain yourself or find someone, but it seems he thought of that already.

As a decently sized box sat on your bed, seemingly just delivered as all the agents were in the meeting. And on top sat a note.

‘My Dear,

Hopefully these are to your liking, I’ll be waiting for your answer.

Love, Amir.’

And you guessed it, the box was full of sour Moroccan snacks and foods. Knowing he’ll be ready to order them and more.

ℝ𝕖𝕪𝕟𝕒:

This woman is not fazed, as she’s seen worse things. But will look at you like you asked the dumbest question ever if she sees you eating a lemon, at all.

From her experience souls taste… different to say. And a good few are weirdly sour, so she isn’t too put off by their flavour and sensation.

***

The day was just another, this one neither you or Reyna were to be sent on missions. So you spent it hanging around with others, while she was training. When she finally finished she started walking back to her room, passing you and Gekko in the living area.

A quick glance had her brain assuming you held an orange, nothing out of the ordinary. Until Gekko spoke up.

“Ew dude, why would you- stay away!”

At first she was alarmed until she remembered who you two were. Slowly stepping back to see you holding out the orange- wait no, that's not an orange. You were holding a lemon, one that currently had a bite mark.

At the realization she could only stare at you, turning into a glare when you made eye contact.

“Want some?”

#valorant x reader #valorant x male reader #valorant sova x reader #sova x reader #valorant iso x reader #iso x reader #valorant gekko x reader #gekko x reader #valorant jett x reader #jett x reader #valorant cypher x reader #cypher x reader #valorant reyna x reader #reyna x reader #wisteria♥

[nights-at-crystarium]

You know what, I assume that people always read my pinned, or notice the pointer "new reader? start here" in every new Fragments' episode. I might be deluding myself. So hi hello lemme TALK ABOUT MY COMIC.

Before I get too rambly (and I mean RAMBLY), here's a quick intro. Fragments is a comic focused on feels and slice of life, made by a queer guy, aiming to ~character study~ the main cast (Vivi, Raha, Alisaie, Feo Ul) and fill in the gaps in canon (or linger in canon moments that needed more air imo), the tone ranging from angst to fluff to meme. Good punches require a good windup, so please don't expect angst anytime soon :3c

The story's segmented (fragmented, heh) into episodes. Episodes 1-11 take place in ARR, you can enjoy them with no worry about spoilers. Episode 12 onward is ShB, with all the spoilers and lorebending.

My storytelling style assumes you haven't only played through ShB, but know it like the back of your hand, i.e. it's for nerds and thinkers. Of course there's plenty of silly moments that don't require any deep knowledge, but the overarching story does. Often I skip canon events, only hinting that they took place, simply because I don't wanna retell the msq 1:1, I've got plenty of original scenes waiting to be drawn. You're in for a treat if you like obsessing over emotional and moral implications of things. And, yes, this's a story about a morally grey mc. Don't expect to be spoon-fed "and this's why that thing's bad, kids".

Currently I've outlined all the main story beats up until post EW, so it's like, not being winged as I go. Yes I refine things here and there, but I know where I'm going. I'm going ham!!!! With the lorebending post ShB. Initially I didn't plan to, but the more I learned about Vivi and personally grew as a writer, the more courage I got to "divorce" from canon. The general xiv story may still be good wherever it's headed, but it's not suited for an established wolgraha, so I'm making food for myself.

Everyone imagines the lil scenes from their wol's life, I'm taking that a tiiiiiny step further. Fragments tells a cohesive story that's looking to be the longest project at least in our corner. I can and will hyperfixate on this for years.

I started out just like many others, being hit with ShB like a truck, I wanted to put a catboy under a microscope and rotate him forever. Although I'd already been drawing for decades, I didn't have the comic-making skills yet, or eloquence to write the dialogue, so I spent the first half of 2022 self-studying, just because I needed a mouth to be able to scream about my ship.

Vivi didn't exist prior to my obsession with Exarch. He was made for this, he started out as a reagent (or a foil, now that I know fancy writing terms) for a rich and fun chemistry, and keep myself entertained for years, first and foremost.

Me, a fool: okay let's make a guy that falls in love with Exarch in this particular moment, what kinda life must he have led to- Me: ....oh no

The chemistry quickly bubbled up and exploded in my face, involving not only Exarch, but other characters (first as a means to subtly tell about Vivi, then they also demanded their own screentime), and here I am, sitting with a massive script on my hands, drawing my blorbos every day. Thanks for enabling that btw.

I care about characters a lot. I ask a lot of whys and hows. I'm critical-minded and burned on many bad stories that did their characters dirty, and I wanna be an opposing example. What I'm doing is extremely ambitious and risky, yes, but I can only invite you to tag along and see if I stick to my word.

The internet's a cruel and unforgiving place nowadays, and here I am, pitting my passion against what feels like decaying humanity. I'm making this comic to keep myself happy above all else, being sincere and cringe because life's too short to be anything else.

Thanks for reading this, and if you haven't yet, read Fragments here!

#ffxiv #vivien rell #crystal exarch #g'raha tia #wol x g'raha tia #wolgraha #own: next lvl #fragments talk

[cowboyfromh3ll]

OKAY BESTIE I'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE

It's John's turn this time.

The reader is Dutch's daughter still.

Dutch starts dating John's mother, and they have a dinner to introduce the kids. (They're 18 ans 23 but) since Dutch is serious about this woman, he wants her son (who still lives at home... also maybe has an emo band but thats besides the point) and his daughter to meet each other.

Cue another stereotypical porn scenario, except this one of the Stepbro variety

I absolutely loved Cola.

Have you heard the song "She keeps me up" by nickelback? (Ik nickelback is kinda cringe but this song 💋👌)

It reminded me of this prompt because one of the lines is:

"Funky little monkey, she's a twisted trickster.

Everybody wants to be the sister's mister

Coca cola, roller coaster

Love her even though I'm not supposed to."

MX

(StepBro!John Marston x Dutch’s Daughter!Reader Smut)

WOOOO MY GOD this was sooooo fun to write and it's one of the best pieces of literature I have ever written. Enjoy.

Warnings: Stepcest, age gap, unprotected piv, reader is a pervert with a wild imagination

You had a near giddy sense of optimism at the thought of that day's coming events. The lust was like an IV drip in your veins, spreading through your body rapidly enough to make you feel lightheaded from excitement. You tumbled out of bed and pranced towards the bathroom like a deer frolicking through a field, though with your hazy state of mind, it felt more like dragging yourself towards the bathroom with the helpless awareness of someone realizing they’d been slipped a drug. You swung open the door with such great ferocity you thought you might rip it off its hinges if you weren’t careful.

You tried to take relief in the surging water of the shower, cranking the handle the furthest you could; the bathroom filling with steam within minutes. You stood underneath the water, watching the way each droplet drummed against the bottom of your tub hypnotically. You thought of the boy you were hours away from meeting in an introductory dinner, your father informing you he was named John. From pictures your father had so graciously shown you, you knew he was your type. He looked considerably older than you, though not by too much. Young looking enough that people wouldn’t give you questioning looks if they saw you walking together in public hand in hand, or perhaps sharing a milkshake; seductively licking the whipped cream off the corner of his mouth before dipping your own finger in the fluffy confection.

His skin looked nearly wet in the picture your father showed you, standing next to his mother in some outside area (You barely remembered what she looked like, far too focused on him). The oily lubricants of sweat caused his hair to cling to his forehead; the effortless feather of his side-swept bangs that were just slightly too long framing his left eye. You’d imagined that if you pushed them back, the path of his shining forehead would be exposed. The thought alone made your heart quicken as if he had just stripped naked in front of you. You went on to imagine that after pushing back his bangs, you’d lick his forehead; likely tasting of the sweat on his inner thighs and the crevices of his torso.

You smiled at the thought as you slathered the syrupy body wash across your breasts, hoping your skin would ferment with the scent and create an intoxicating alcohol in the air. You began to imagine John inhaling the rousing fragrance of your cherry vanilla shampoo as you massaged your scalp; the result of accidentally leaning far too forward next to him while he showed you something on his phone screen, a swath of velvety hair brushing against his nose as he tried his best not to deeply inhale you. You soon became so dizzy from your own thoughts that you clumsily supported yourself on the shower wall before sliding down. You extracted the shower head from its holder before turning the notch to a narrow stream of high pressure and holding it between your legs the same way a medic would put an oxygen mask on a patient slipping from consciousness.

You chose your outfit for the day carefully. You decided that today you’d brandish a mini baby pink slip dress, the material imperceptibly sheer; slight enough that they wouldn’t be able to discern the outline of your lacy underwear; but sheer enough that upon closer inspection, they’d be able to make out the prints of your hardened nipples and the color of your smooth breasts. For the special occasion, you wore no bra but donned a simple white cropped cardigan. Only upon entering the privacy of John’s bedroom, if allowed, would you discard the fabric to allow the cold air of the house to make a show of your hardened nipples for your target. Until you were able to engage in true contact with the man, you’d use his hungry stares as sustenance. You’d imagined John had never been with someone so deliciously supple, someone so curvaceous and tempting, that he couldn’t mask the direction in which his eyes traveled and the delight at what he was looking at.

When you check the weather for the day, your heart swelled in satisfaction at the realization of what the record high southern heat would bring. You licked your lips as you watched the news anchor on TV, almost able to taste the flavor of John’s sweat on your tongue. The piquancy would cause your mouth to water in delight, and you began to clench your legs painfully together as if to muffle the screeching desire that clawed away at the ornately papered walls of your meridional mansion.

As you shuddered, your father walked into the living room with an equally blissful smile on his face. “Goodmorning, sweetheart.” He called before walking over and planting a tender kiss to your temple. “Are you ready for tonight?” You nodded enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as you realized your own excitement. In the past, you had never been particularly keen on meeting your father’s girlfriends, but it wasn’t often they had a hot son under their wing and this situation seemed too good to pass up.

The ride to their house was torturous; restless in the passenger seat of your father’s corvette as he drove down the road. Even though he was already driving above the speed limit, a part of you wanted to shove your father out of the driver's seat and drive there on your own at record speed, pushing the gas pedal to its limits. You tried your best to not bite your nails, painted cherry squares that gleamed like red vinyl; it was a habit you had ditched in the throes of your childhood. As you and your father pulled into the driveway of a quaint suburban home, all judgment you might’ve initially had left you as you remembered the prize that awaited you inside; like a parcel sitting inside an ornately wrapped gift box. You squinted your eyes against the bleached out concrete of their driveway, looking past the beat up looking 1900 Audi 100 and towards the doorway. The stone paved walkway served as an umbilical path to the inside; the bottom of your Repetto Camille heels scraping against the granular surface of their front steps, each strike of your heel against the ground a sharp reminder of what awaits you. It felt like a daydream, like you were walking a path of luminous sugar.

The rap of your father’s knuckle against the front door snapped you back to reality, and you stood there skittishly. You straightened your posture and flashed your father an enthusiastic smile which he returned. The door creaked open in front of you, revealing the woman of your father’s affections, but not the man of yours. Nonetheless, you held your smile and greeted the woman. You watched as the two exchanged kisses on the cheeks, before she turned to face you.

“Oh it’s so good to meet you, (Name)!” She stuck her hand out to shake yours, which you gingerly accepted and shook. “I’ve heard so much about you.” She went on to say, which made you smile wider.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. Marston.” You nodded, your eyes skidding to look behind her to see if John was there. A sense of disappointment began to swell within you as you considered the fact that he may not be there; he was a grown man after all, and he could decide whether or not he wanted to be present to meet his mother’s new partner. The realization felt akin to the bittersweet pain of heat leaving your genitals upon retracting your hand before you could reach orgasm.

“Please, step inside. Dinner is nearly ready.” She stepped aside to allow you in, and you did so in a sluggish manner. The woman led you down the hall, presumably to her living room. When you turned the foyer into the living room, you nearly crumpled to your knees.

There, on the couch, you beheld the love of your life. Your chest began to surge when he turned to face the three of you, at once standing in a show of practiced politeness. His awkward gait as he walked over nearly made you screech in desire. Now that he stood before you, you drank in details you weren’t able to capture from mere pictures. Healed scars almost white in comparison to his tanned, stubbled skin. The small bump on his nose as it curved to a rounded tip. The girth of his generous biceps, decorated in embellishing ink designs, not revealed in the portrait style pictures you had seen. The slight downturn of his brown eyes contrasting his rough features.

Before you knew it, he was standing before you, seemingly last in the assembly line to be greeted by him. “Nice to meet you, I’m John.” His southern drawl made you shiver, your teeth chattering as you lifted your hand to his. The initial feeling of skin to skin contact made you want to cry out; the single touch alone would’ve been enough to satiate you for the entire night and until your next meeting. But your longing grew teeth, and you were ready to maul the man before you. There was a distinct gentleness in the way you took his hand, flashing him your best smile as you batted your eyelashes. “I’m, (Name).” You chirped. “Pleasure to meet you.” And what a pleasure it would be, indeed, you thought. You noted the calluses on the tips of his fingers, imagining what their roughness might’ve felt like grinding into your clit. As the two of you parted hands, you smoothed the tips of your fingers over his wrist and slid them over his palm. You watched his face to pick up on any reactions to your strangely intimate gesture, relishing in the way his adams apple bobbed harshly.

“See, they’re already getting along.” Your father joked. You offered genuine laughter, finding amusement in the unintentional literalness of his statement.

“Oh, yes! Let me check up on dinner to see if it’s ready yet.” John's mother began walking towards the kitchen, to which your father followed closely behind her.

“I’ll come with you, the two can acquaint themselves for a bit.” He patted her shoulder, offering you and John a polite yet expectant smile. You and your father seemed to have a hive mind that night, because the set up couldn’t be any more perfect. You stepped around the arm rest of the couch and sat down on the cushioning, seemingly assessing the comfort of the pillows to see how well of a surface they’d make for cunnilingus.

Your attention was drawn back to John, who was sitting in a reclining chair vertical to the loveseat you sat on. “There’s some water on the table if you’d like some.” He motioned towards the tray on the table, which held 4 glasses.

“Thank you.” You said, a small purr in your inflection as you reached for a glass and brought it to your lips. John watched with near a hypnotized demeanor as you tipped the cup back, your rouge lipstick leaving a print on the side of the cup. He watched as the pink flesh of your tongue flicked over the rim of the cup tentatively, catching a few loose droplets of water. John looked so nervous he looked like he might throw up all over his shoes, and your small gestures were enough to start up a tremble in him.

“So,” you began, the sound of you setting your cup down causing John to jerk. “Tell me about yourself, John!” You said enthusiastically. You hadn’t noticed how wide you were grinning, perhaps too excited for a simple meeting. He looked at you as though you had just asked him the meaning of life. You gave him an encouraging nod, something you would’ve never otherwise done if this were any other boy. But you could make special exceptions.

He sat up and drummed on his thighs, deep in thought. “Uh, well… I’m twenty three-”

You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the mention of his age, passing it off as blithely wetting your dry lips. You listened attentively as he recounted the rudimentary details of his life, your eyes focusing on the scars littered across one side of his face. You imagined what it’d be like to skate your tongue across them, allowing your tongue to linger on one end before sliding back down the other direction.

“The car out in the front is mine, actually.” There was a small inflection of pride in his voice, though you couldn’t remember the conversation having gotten to the point of discussing cars in your daydream.

“Oh really? It’s quite nice.” You supposed talking up a man’s ego would be the easiest way to get him out his pants, and his car seemed to be a soft spot for him. Though comparably, if you were talking cars, you’d be doing him a service driving him around in yours. Imagine the fun you two would have! You’d pick him up in your baby blue audi roadster; he’d sit a bit awkwardly at first on the passenger side, his legs bent up too far to avoid having the skin on the back of his knees touch the hot leather of the seat. You’d drive him down an isolated road with the top down as you floored the gas, letting the wind hit your bodies in some form of foreplay. Before long, you’d be surrounded by overgrown greenery and untamed woods, and you’d tell him to slide his jeans down so you could pull his cock out and fellate him.

“Y’know, I actually have quite a few cars. Maybe you can check ‘em out sometime?” You offered, feigning innocence. His eyes widened slightly at your mentioning of having several cars of your own. “Yeah?” He asked in disbelief.

You nodded. “Yeah! Maybe I’ll even let you drive one.” You giggled, feeling exultation at making him laugh as well, even if it was nervous laughter. You hoped that upon accepting your invitation to view your cars in some impromptu meet, it’d be easy to seduce and fuck him in the back seat of one of your coupes.

"Ha, never imagined my mom would find herself a rich fella. Now I'll be able to borrow my rich sister's cars." Having him call you his sister felt like a kick in the skull, it was like being unwillingly pulled into a group project you had no intentions of being a part of. "Well, I'm not quite your sister." In an act of defiance, you shed the thin cardigan and puffed your chest out, pulling the thin strings tying the front together like you were unwrapping a gift; the lighting from the chandelier made your dress appear subtly translucent. You suppressed the smirk that threatened to come onto your face when you heard him cough and clear his throat. "Think of it as borrowing your friend's cars " You turned to look at him again, flashing a toothy smile that dismissed any ulterior motives.

"Uhm, yeah." His porcelain voice shivered with forming cracks. He crossed one thigh over the other, leaning back in his seat and sucking in a deep breath. Now that he was actually in front of you, you could take a moment to study his clothing of choice. It seemed that that day he himself had decided to brandish baggy black jeans that bunched around his ankles, and a black band shirt that read 'Alice In Chains'. Not only that, he had a few studded leather bracelets around his wrists. You wondered what he'd look like with a similar choker around his neck, attached to a leash as you sat on his back with a leather crop like he was your mount of choice.

"I like your style!" You complimented, taking another sip of your water. The remark seemed to work in your favor, causing him to sit up straight and smile in pride. Indeed, the way inside a man's heart, and pants, was to talk him up.

"Thank you, I like yours too." His tone was hushed, briefly flickering his eyes down your body before your father walked in. "Hey you two, dinner’s ready." He announced. You dropped all seductive pretenses and faced your father, pulling your cardigan back on while smiling. "Alright daddy!"

The two of you promptly followed behind Dutch, who already seemed to know his way around the house as he led you towards the dining room. John mechanically set the table as his mother droned on about how excited she was to have finally met you, putting a hand on your shoulder with familiar proximity. You did not mind the touch, but you detested the idea of it being perceived as motherly by your father or John. You sat across from John on the mahogany dinner table, which was a heartland expanse of wood long enough for you to lay down on as John pillaged you. Though the four sharp corners of the table were somehow symbolic; a reminder to not go out of bounds on this dinner.

The dinner went on as planned by your father: blithe introductions and a lighthearted atmosphere, your father encouraging you to speak of your achievements casually to show what a great unit the two of you were without sounding pretentious. Though you supposed speaking about all your pageantry awards and college certificates along with your impressive resume was anything but; feeling instead like you were in the middle of some high stakes interview that determined the rest of your life. In a way, you thought it did though. Afterall, the man of your dreams was sitting across from you, and you wanted to impress him. But John seemed to sink in his chair the more you spoke, his eyes flickering occasionally towards his mother, who's jaw only seemed to open wider the more you shared.

"Quite a daughter you've got, Dutch! You should be proud." She cheered, flashing you a warm smile in the process. You returned it before looking over across from you, and John himself seemed to be impressed. But it was more of an ashamed look, as if he were trying to telepathically communicate to his mother 'don't be disappointed in me because I don't have all those achievements under my belt'.

In an act of consolation, you slipped your foot out of your shoe and ran it up his leg, not once looking at him as you did so, stopping to rest your toes on his knee. Perhaps a rush of your judgment, but you felt his entire leg go rigid beneath your foot as he froze, his fork stopping mid way on its path towards his mouth. You continued conversation with your father like it was nothing, a skill born out of practice. You retracted your foot momentarily, an imaginary static shock connecting the two of you as you flickered your eyes towards him briefly, who was staring back at you with aroused disbelief.

"Would you like some more water, (Name)?" John's mother asked, pitcher in hand. You nodded and thanked her, watching the way the cup filled before flashing John a more sultry smile, knowing and empathetic. It said all the words you could not speak out loud. You rested your chin on the back of your hand as you listened to John's mother speak about the multiple clients she saw a day as a real estate agent. You took John's reaction as a green light, opting towards a more bold move. The initial touch had been a pop quiz, now this was the big exam. Once again, your foot traveled up his shin, stopping only for a moment at his knee, as if waiting for one last sign of rejection, before reaching past his thigh and landing at his crotch, rubbing front to back again and again while your father spoke of his own business. Upon applying more pressure to his half erect genitals with the sole of your foot, John's knee reflexively jerked and slammed up into the table, causing you to pull your foot back and shove it into your shoe before anyone could see what you were doing.

Dutch and John's mother looked at each other before looking at John in confusion. "Are you okay, hon?" His mother asked. Her concern-laden question made you want to laugh. John cleared his throat and nodded, shifting in his seat.

"Yeah, mom." He confirmed. She didn't appear too convinced, but she didn't want to rouse any sort of uncomfortable conversation in the middle of dinner. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction, a small victory cheer playing out in your head. The rest of dinner went without a hitch, occasionally stopping to rest your foot on top of John's shoe. He still held an expression of confusion and disbelief, a tinge of arousal; but not once did he move his foot away.

By the end of dinner, John's mother insisted he show you to his room so you could see all his rock memorabilia, something she thought a woman of your age would enjoy seeing. And while you had never dabbled in the more alternative side of fashion and music, it was certainly something that you thought made a man more attractive. John had a stiff air about him as the two of you got up and excused yourself from the dinner table, and you reveled in his tenseness as you walked alongside him. He was quiet the entire walk as if in deep contemplation, not once looking at you out of fear that if he did, he might turn to see some sort of succubus had taken your place. Though once you reached the steps leading up to the second floor, you made a point of stepping directly in front of John as you traversed upwards.

You could feel his eyes train on your ass, the shortness of your dress and the movement of your hips affording him a peek beneath the hem of your dress and to your lace clad ass. As if you were a magician hypnotizing him with some sort of mystical locket by swaying it back and forth, he followed you up in a trance. It wasn't until you stopped at the top of the stairs, turning your torso to face him, did he rip his eyes away from your posterior and up to face you. You smirked unabashedly, as if to tell him you caught him staring.

"Which room is yours?" You asked, looking back to the hallway.

"Oh, right this way." There was a small pep in his step as he led you down the carpeted hall. When he reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped aside to allow you in.

"Ladies first." He said, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

"What a gentleman." You said as you stepped in. You stood in the center of his room, looking around at its slightly disheveled state. He clearly hadn't anticipated having anyone in his room that night, only expecting a quaint dinner. His walls were decorated with several posters of bands, all dressed in a similar fashion as him while carrying electric guitars and wildly thrashing their hair. His navy blue bed sheets on his unmade that you so badly wanted to throw yourself onto face first before inhaling deeply. He had a few guitars of his own propped up against the wall, and you took an instant liking to the bright red one. There were stray t-shirts littered across the floor; his closet door bulging open to reveal more black clothes.

"I like your room, it's so you." You smiled at him, crossing your arms beneath your chest. John stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him but leaving it slightly ajar.

"Thanks, I'd say it's real uh, expressive." He said, which made you giggle.

"You play?" You pointed towards the instruments, only then taking note of the amp positioned behind them.

"Yeah, I'm actually in a band."

This new piece of information was absolutely delightful, and it made you perk up. "Oh really?" You asked, leaning forward in interest. He showed that same bit of pride, gaining confidence at your sudden inquiry.

"Yeah, I'm the lead guitarist." He boasted, sitting down on the bed behind you. You looked at the spot directly next to him, and asked "May I?"

Before he could realize what you were asking, he nodded yes. The realization of what he agreed to came when you sat down so close next to him that your thighs were shy of touching each other. He made no comment about it, only deeply inhaling to steady his breath. The casualty of your prior conversation almost made him nearly forget about the little trick you pulled downstairs at dinner.

"Uhm.." He began, opening his mouth to speak but closing it as if unsure how to start. He looked at you and squinted his eyes, confused by the perplexed expression on your face feigning innocence.

"Downstairs, uh…" You cocked your brow in faux confusion, as if you had no idea where he was going with this. The action alone made John feel crazy, as if he had imagined the whole scene in its entirety and by mentioning it, you'd look at him in appalled disbelief for even imagining something so lewd with his new step sister.

Before he could continue, you cut him off. "Hey John, I have a question."

He pursed his lips before gulping. "What is it?"

"When your mother showed you the picture of my dad and I, did you touch yourself to the thought of me?"

The forwardness of the question made John’s eyes widen to gargantuan proportions. He raised one of his brows at you as if to assess whether you were serious or not, and for a moment, you felt the unfamiliar fear of the possibility of your assumptions being wrong. To emphasize how serious you were, you began undoing the front strings of your cardigan again, letting it slide down your arms along with a singular spaghetti strap, which you made a point not to fix as it slid down your shoulder.

“Uhm… I…” His hesitancy to answer was an answer of its own. You smiled and leaned into his arm, feeling the rigidity of his body. You looked at his face; he looked as though he were weighing out his options. You were sure that if you could read his mind, one end of the balancing scale would have “Remain decent during this joining of two families”, and the other end would read “Fuck my super hot step sister who clearly wants me.” And you were certain that the latter was outweighing the former.

“Well,” You began, ghosting your fingers on his thighs. “I have.” His breath hitched, eyes fixed on where your hand was. “All I can think about is touching you. I want to touch you so badly, and I want you to touch me.” You brought your face closer to his, awaiting any sort of response. He didn’t seem quite as convinced as you wanted him to be though.

“I know you want to.” You purred, laying your palm flat on his thigh, shy of a few inches from his cock. “I saw the way you were looking at me in the living room. And I know you were looking at my ass when we were going up the stairs. Just admit it.” John looked off to the side shamefully as though he’d been caught walking into a room he wasn’t welcome into. You were sure that if this were under any other circumstances, John would’ve pounced on you with as much fervor by now. But the step siblings aspect added an extra layer of shame that you viewed as unnecessarily tedious.

“John.” You said more firmly, cupping his stubbled cheek and turning him to face you directly. “Touch me.”

His hands came to the sides of your face as he lowered his mouth onto yours. You felt his pulse strike against your fingers as you continued to hold him, willfully opening your mouth in the beginning of a hungry kiss. Instantly, John shoved his tongue into your mouth, the nascent feeling of metal on his tongue as he created a sucking motion with each kiss making you shiver. You moaned into the kiss, sucking and kissing anything your mouth came into contact with. He abandoned all hesitant pretenses as his hands began to roam your body, groping and squeezing anything that filled his palm. His touches were so confident and intentional, it appeared as though he had never been scared at all. He seemed to have a perfect lexicon of your body inside his mind, knowing exactly where to touch without looking.

You turned to face him better on the bed, swinging one of your thighs over his lap. As you two separated from the kiss, his needy hands came to your straps and hooked two fingers around them, looking to you for permission before he pulled them down.

“But you’re my brother.” You joked, faking a pout.

“Your STEP-brother.” He clarified. Without another word, he yanked the strings down, exposing your pert chest and hardened nipples. He lowered his mouth to a nipple before taking it in between his lips, pulling it along with his teeth as he sucked. You lowered your head and watched the pink on skin contact, your nipple beginning to glisten with John’s saliva. You gasped and threw your head back, holding his crown in place as his tongue piercing swirled around the bud.

You reached your arms across his back and began clawing at the shirt he was wearing, pulling it up along his back until he helped you pull it over his head, temporarily interrupting his ministrations. After delivering the same attention to your other nipple, he began yanking the rest of your dress down along your body. You lifted your ass in assistance, giggling at the way he flung it across the room, hanging on the headstock of his red guitar.

“Damn, girl, you are stunning.” He smirked, taking a moment to admire your perfectly taut torso before smoothing his hands over the skin. “And you smell amazing.” He added. His comments nearly made you blush. You flung your heels off across the room, leaving you in only your red lacy underwear.

“Your turn.” You whispered, winking at him. He stood hastily and began removing his studded belt, dropping his jeans quickly after and clumsily pulling them off his ankles. His excitement made you laugh, you thought he might trip from how quickly he was moving. You licked your lips at the sight of the trail of hair dusted across his naval, disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers; it appeared as if it were some wispy chocolate confection drizzled over his body. At this point, he joined you back in bed, remaining in his own underwear. You eyed the noticeable bulge in his underwear, a tiny wet spot where his tip lay.

“Someone’s excited.” You teased, tracing the scar that ran along his cheek.

“Shit, with someone as smokin’ as you, who wouldn’t be.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse. The two of you shared a moment of lighthearted giggles as he pulled you along further on the bed.

“You ever had a girl?” You asked. You supposed you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it come from his mouth. Your hands wrapped around his cloth covered cock and began to stroke leisurely.

“One, but besides that, I haven’t done much.” His labored breath sounded like he was running from something. “How come?” You asked. “You’re certainly handsome.”

He shrugged, shaking his head as he tipped it back on his sternum. “No one will have me, I guess.” He laughed in self pity. In response, you squeezed his cock before lifting your hand from the wad of fabric shaped around his erection. You hooked your fingers on the elastic of his underwear, pulling it down as the head of his cock snagged on the waistband before springing free. You smirked at the sight of his Jacob's ladder piercing.

“I like it.” You complimented, looking back up at him. “Real adventurous.”

“I guess the pain would have been worth it after all.” He joked.

You lowered your head above his cock, your hair falling around you. You exhaled onto him, bathing his tip in your warm breath. With that, you licked your lips, lowering them over him, leaving a pink print wherever your lips paused. You heard a guttural moan above you, his fingers resting over your scalp as if debating whether he should grasp your roots or not. You slowly arched your neck, extending your throat until it came to his base. You delighted in the feeling of metal against your tongue, fluttering it against his underside. He made gasping noises and began bucking his hips, writhing in a disoriented way that made the tip of his cock bump against the back of your throat.

You gave him a few minutes of skilled sucking, your throat producing various wet slurps and gags as you fucked your own throat on his cock. You brushed your hair behind your ear, looking up at him through your lashes. His face twitched and contorted in pleasure, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. You began tasting the salty bitters of pre-ejaculate on your tongue, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled your head back on his tip, giving a few more harsh sucks before popping off of it. His erection glistened and bobbed in the air as you looked up at him seductively, licking your lips before leaning back up towards eye level. His eyes remained trained on his own cock, looking as if to see if it was still attached.

“Your turn.” You whispered before placing your fingertips on his chest, pushing him back to lay on the bed, his head landing comfortably on his pillow. His lips twitched into an excited smile as you shuffled over him, your knees on either side of his torso. His shaky hands came to grip the back of your thighs, his pointer fingers digging into the plump flesh where your thigh curved into your ass.

You couldn’t believe how close the two of you were to actually fucking. You had a small growing sense of paranoia that your father or John’s mother may decide to walk upstairs, the carpeted floor cushioning their muted footsteps. That they’d throw the door open and see the clothes strewn across the floor, before landing on you sitting atop of John. You sweeped the thought away, deciding to enjoy this for as long as possible. You gripped the head board as you walked your knees to the sides of his neck, looking down at his excited face.

“You know what would be really hot?” You asked, squaring your cunt in front of his mouth. “If you took ‘em off with your teeth.” He leaned up with the obedience of a dog, pinching the elastic between his front teeth before sliding them down, his canines lightly scraping the tender flesh of your thigh. You shuddered as goosebumps wracked your body, the feeling of his nose traveling down your pubic bone making you want to cry out in ecstasy. Your thighs nearly sandwiched his neck, and as your panties pooled at your knees, it only required a slight tilt of your pelvis before you straddled his face fully, releasing your weight onto his mouth. His hands came to grip your ass, squeezing and pulling the globes of flesh in opposite directions.

His lips quickly latched onto your clit, sucking before he opened his mouth and flattened his tongue along your cunt; the feeling of cold metal making you yelp. Without waiting for the green light, you began grinding down onto his face. You bit your lip to avoid the risk of being found out, scrunching your face up at your best attempt to keep quiet. The bottom half of John’s face quickly became marinated in your enthusiasm, eating you out with the same eagerness as if he had just got a new car and was driving it for the first time.

He moaned into your pussy, his tongue laving between your lips and labia, circling your clit before sliding back down to your molting hole. He slid his wet muscle inside you, effectively tongue fucking you as you ground your clit into his nose. He gave your ass a playful spank, a sharp quick cut into the static haziness of your wanton acts which made you keenly aware of the fact either of your parents might’ve heard that. But you couldn’t find it in you to chastise him, he was far too engrossed in eating you out, and very excitedly.

John gripped your ass more forcefully now, manually shoving your cunt further onto his face as he continued to suck and lick. He was doing this with the full intention of making you cum. You bit the back of your hand, grinding so hard into his face you thought you might break the mattress. With a few more harsh sucks, you felt a flash of heat as you came all over John’s mouth and chin, barely able to suppress your cry of euphoria. He wrapped his mouth fully around your cunt, swallowing as much of your cum as he could before going back to sucking on your oversensitive clit. Your grinds slowed to a halt before you climbed off his head, seeing just how spent and drenched his face was.

You laughed in amusement. “My god.” You continued to giggle, feeling a sense of tenderness for him. He had a satisfied smile on his face as he laughed.

“How’d I do?” He lifted himself on his elbows as you moved off of him, leaning your back against the wall as you shed your panties off of your legs fully.

“Well you made me cum so I’d say pretty fucking good.” You giggled, patting him on the knee. Your cunt was a spent pool of pleasure, but the ache inside you continued to burn. You imagined he felt the same way, his cock somehow harder and in more need of touch.

“Take these off fully, already.” You pouted, moving to yank his underwear fully off his legs, throwing it into the pile of clothes next to his bed. You turned to face him. “How do you wanna fuck me?” You asked. He sat up suddenly and moved to the side, patting the pillow where he once laid.

“I wanna look at you while we do it.” Wordlessly, you followed his order and laid on your back, hugging your knees to your chest as he positioned himself above you. He took your ankles and settled them on his shoulders, giving the sides of your feet a kiss before gripping his cock and guiding it inside you. You nodded in encouragement, your mouth falling into a silent o as he slid in slowly to the hilt. He sucked in shaky breaths, trying his best to contain any sounds. He decided to lean forward and over to his night stand, pulling out a random CD before popping it into the player atop. At once, the sound of guitars and drums and smooth vocals filled the room, masking any sounds you made. He cranked the volume up, hastily beginning to thrust inside you.

It was the perfect cover up, one John’s mom wouldn’t question. It made sense, after all, for John to be sharing some of his music taste with you up in his bedroom, no matter how obnoxiously loud it might be. The two of you began in a chorus of moans and grunts, the wet sounds of skin on skin accompanying the playing of the band. John paused his movements momentarily to reach for an extra pillow aside your head before shoving it under your hips, helping him in elevating your pelvis. You let out a particularly loud squeal at the newly reached depth, letting loose a stream of obscenities about how good John was fucking you.

His hair began sticking to his forehead the same way it did in that one photograph, the sight of it making your cunt tighten around him. You dragged him down toward you by the arm, before sweeping his bangs to the side and landing a stripe of saliva on his forehead. The racy flavor made you shudder in delight, and you moved to wrap your arms around John’s neck to hold him in place. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, gripping the headboard as both of your bodies jerked from each movement. If the bed was squeaking, you wouldn’t have known; far too stimulated by the sounds of your bodies moving in tandem along with Chino Moreno’s singing.

John lifted his face to press his sweaty forehead to yours, an expression of pure ecstasy on his debauched features. The functioning awareness of his brain lagging behind his own body as it tried to register what had just happened, what was currently happening, and what was about to end. His eyes opened momentarily and you saw a sense of bewilderment for his own actions, before shutting slowly again in bliss. An involuntary and guttural noise left his mouth as he came inside you. The uncontrolled wince of his face combined with the spreading warmth in your abdomen tipped off your own orgasm, and you came harder than you had before. In the moment, you hadn’t registered that the way you screamed was akin to the primal screech one would release upon being fatally wounded.

As the next track on the album came to an end, the two of you remained in the same position catching your breaths. John seemed to snap back to his senses when he looked down to where you connected, a ribbon of cum dripping out of you. When he removed himself his horrors were only confirmed further.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I-I’ll pay for your plan b, I-” You sat up and waved your hand dismissively.

“On the pill, don't worry.” You reassured, which seemed to effectively calm his nerves. You sat up again, resting your back on the headboard.

“Wow.” He said, smiling at you widely.

“Wow, indeed.” You said.

“That was the best sex of my life.” He slapped your thigh before rubbing it, which you welcomed by placing your hand over his. “There’s more where that came from.” You winked once again and leaned forward to kiss him. The two of you shared a non-sexually charged kiss before separating.

“Alright.” You pat his knee, “Let’s get dressed now before my dad or your mom come up.”

The two of you got dressed simultaneously, slipping your dress on quickly before studying your hair and makeup in a nearby mirror. You picked up your panties and tossed them back towards John, who just barely caught them.

“Keep 'em, as a trophy.” You giggled as you watched him stuff them in his pocket. “Will do.”

The two of you made a haste trip to the bathroom to clean yourselves up and make sure you looked presentable before going back downstairs again. The two of you shared a tender moment where you dabbed away the sweat on each other's foreheads with crumpled up tissues. Upon your return downstairs, you found your respective parents sitting on the couch chatting, before they turned to face you two.

“How’d you two get along?” Asked Dutch. John’s mother looked on in enthusiasm, clapping her hands together. “I’m assuming well, John put on one of his favorite CDs to show you after all.” She cooed. The two of you looked at eachother knowingly with blithe laughter that suggested nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

“Yeah,” You began. “I think we’re gonna get along great.”

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MX - Deftones

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 x reader #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #john marston #john marston x reader smut #john marston rdr2 #john marston x reader #john marston smut #dutch's daughter reader #agegap #stepcest #john marston is emo

[just-imagine-that]

hi, can I please request a nct dream reaction to find out that they're your first boyfriend and first kiss?

NCT Dream Reaction - They're Your First Kiss

some of these might be a bit similar to each other because I can see a lot of the same scenarios happening with each of them

I was actually really disgusted at what I was writing on Renjun's part, but it just seemed like something that would happen

All Gifs From Pinterest

WARNING: Fluff

Mark

He doesn't know how to react when you tell him he's your first, not only kiss, but first boyfriend aswell. Just kinda gives you a thumbs up before telling you that he wants you to be comfortable and that he'll go by your pace. He really doesn't want to do anything your not okay with, so he doesn't even try to kiss you, which makes you a bit frustrated because you have no idea how to initiate a kiss.

In the end, you just gave up on waiting for him to try and initiate anything and just grabbed his face and kissed him hard on the mouth. You'd think it was his first kiss too, because he is so awkward and his hands are kind of just in the air, not knowing where to put them. Once you end the kiss, you just clear your throat and leave to go get a glass of water, leaving Mark in shock.

Renjun

Listens to you very intently when you sat down and had a talk with him about how he was your first boyfriend, first kiss, first everything really. He won't push you into making a move to kiss him, he wants you to be comfortable around him and he wants the kiss to happen naturally.

The day you finally got your first kiss stolen from him, it was like a cheesy romance movie. You guys were watching a movie, a bowl of popcorn being shared in the middle of you two. You glanced at him to see if he was enjoying the movie so far, but then you couldn't take your eyes off him, because he was so gorgeous, a smile creeping on your face when you realized that this was your boyfriend. Renjun could feel your staring and moved his head to see your face, the smile and love in your eyes were undeniable. He smiled in return as he looked into your eyes, and you both slowly started leaning in, and let the kiss happen like how you both wanted it to, naturally.

(I cringed so hard writing this, I'm so sorry about the fucking amount of CHEESE in this🤢)

Jeno

I feel like he would be really stupidly proud to hear that he is your first relationship and everything. It has to do with the thought that, out of all the guys in the world to be your first everything, you chose HIM, and he is confident that he's the only boyfriend you're ever gonna have because he is so determind to make you feel like royalty, because, to him, that's what you are, a beloved royal.

He will wait until you come up to him and tell him that you are ready for your first kiss, because he wants to wait until you are less nervous about your inexperience and be a bit more confident in yourself, to make sure that you are 100% positive that you want him to be your first everything. He would ask you if it is okay to kiss you, and when you say yes, he'll softly place his lips upon yours, and make sure you feel the amount of love he has for you in, not only that first kiss, but also in all the kisses to come in the future.

Haechan

He would honestly be so excited and so sweet about being your first kiss and first boyfriend. He would always ask if you were comfortable whenever doing relationship things, seeing as all of it is a first for you, and he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable if you don't like the new experience. He gives very obvious hints at you that he can't wait for your first kiss, but that's all he does until you ask him for an actual kiss.

The day you ask him for a kiss is the day his soul leaves his body and he swears he's up in heaven in the clouds because he is so happy and so ready to give you the best first kiss ever. He tries not to get too excited, though, because, if he does, he might rush the kiss and accidentally ruin your experience. He'll give you a few pecks first before giving you a long, deep kiss, pouring his entire heart and soul into it.

Jaemin

(Jaemin isn't my bias but this gif gives me butterflies lol)

He may be one hyper boy, but he will harness all the patience he has in his body, mind, and soul just to make you comfortable and to encourage to be confident in your relationship with him. Since this is your first everything in a relationship, his patience with you is unlimited and will never put you down if you don't know what to do and get embarrassed, he gives you ALL the reassurance in the world.

Your first kiss with him was very sweet, Jaemin had planned a whole day of fun and cute little dates to do, both around the city and at home. When the sun was finally setting, and you two were sitting on a bench at the local park, it was like a shared agreement when you both looked to each other and leaned in. It was a perfect first kiss.

Chenle

Oh God, it doesn't matter if he is your first boyfriend or not, if anything, that gives him all the more reason to spoil the absolute shit out of you, after all, he wants to show you that there ain't a better boy out there other than him. He doesn't just spoil you with gifts, he also spoils you with love and affection, and also brings you to a fancy dinner date from time to time.

He takes every word that comes out of your mouth and memorizes that shit because he wants to show you that he does take careful watch of the things you like and dislike. Pays careful attention to your expressions and movements when you are around him because, to him, that can tell him when you want him to give you a kiss, and when he does, it's probably the most passionate kiss you've had (that's saying something considering it's your first).

Jisung

You think this guy has any idea what to do either? It's a first for both of ya, and this boy is gonna be lookin' on Wiki How asking 'how to relationship'. None of those Wiki's would help him so he just gave up on them and decided to follow his gut instinct. At some point you're gonna get a bit frustrated and then your gonna have to take lead in the relationship for a bit.

Jisung actually asked you for a kiss one day when you were cooking breakfast, and he was so shy about it you could just barely make out what he was saying, but you got the gist of it. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before going back to cooking your eggs, a bright blush covering your face as you realized what you just did. Looking over your shoulder, Jisung had the same bright blush on his face, but he was trying to cover it with his hands.

#kpop imagine #kpop reaction #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct reaction #nct fanfic #nct imagine #nct dream reaction #nct dream imagine #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #mark x reader #renjun x reader #jeno x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #nct dream x reader

[infriga]

I convinced my mom to try the live action One Piece, because she's the type to like this style of show even though she isn't into animation and would never read manga, but I didn't think I'd be able to convince my dad because he's usually a stickler for more grounded and realistic stories (his favourite genre is war movies, his favourite movie is Saving Private Ryan, for reference). But, when I brought up with him how I figured it probably wouldn't be his thing because it was fantasy, he mentioned to me that he does enjoy some fantastical stuff if it has like an internal universe logic, like Star Wars, and the more I thought about it, the more I remembered that he also enjoys campy fun action adventure stuff that doesn't take itself too seriously like Indiana Jones or Pirates of the Carribean.

And One Piece has both that internal logic for why people can perform crazy feats (even if it isn't explained right away) which I mentioned to him (just that there is a reason why people can do crazy things in this world), as well as the campy fun action adventure thing going for it, especially in the Live Action (the fight against Morgan's base even has a major Indiana Jones vibes ngl). So I explained that to him and asked if he wanted to try it, and he agreed to watching the first episode with me to decide if he'd watch it with my mom and me.

AND HE ACTUALLY SAID IT WAS INTERESTING SO FAR!! Like, he is NOT the kinda guy to enjoy anime or manga or even western cartoons, always refuses to watch anything anime and doesn't show any interest when I talk about it (I've managed to convince him to watch a few movies like Sword of the Stranger but it's obvious that even when he's not bored or doesn't hate it, it still doesn't catch or keep his interest), and he's really picky about anything fantasy or SciFi, if it like sets off his bullshit meter too much he starts nitpicking the logic behind certain abilities, or decisions, or explanations, etc. I once tried to get him to try Gravity Falls and he wanted to stop after the first episode. He's THAT picky.

So the fact that he actually laughed several times while watching the first episode of OPLA with me, commented about Luffy's character positively several times (he seems to think Luffy is really funny which surprised me cause I thought he'd be the most entertained by Zoro but I mean I can't blame him it is Luffy after all), never cringed or criticised or said anything about how ridiculous it was, means a lot coming from him cause he's always really blunt and honest about his opinion on this sort of stuff (which is fine I don't want him to pretend to enjoy stuff when he doesn't). He actually watched the whole first episode without it losing his attention, and seemed to have fun! And he agreed to watch the rest with my mom and me!

This sort of thing is one of the reasons why I dislike when people just dismiss the idea of live action adaptations entirely. I get that people are jaded with past failures, and don't like when live action is treated like a replacement for or improvement from animation when it isn't. But it is a valid medium just as much as animation or comics or writing are, and can be used to produce some amazing things. And the fact is, there are people who have a hard time connecting with other mediums who will otherwise never engage with this media in its original forms. Live Action, when done well and done right, can reach new audiences and welcome them into the fold in ways the original formats never can.

One Piece didn't need the live action to be popular, obviously, and the live action cannot and will not replace the original, nor should it. But I love that we get to have it alongside the manga and anime. It's just more of what we love, it's the cherry on top of an already stellar multi-layered cake. It complements the original rather than taking anything away from it. And for the first time in over a decade I might be able to share One Piece with my parents, who would only ever have a chance of experiencing it and enjoying it in live action. There's just something so awesome about that for me personally. I just wish more live action adaptations would understand what the One Piece live action understood about the adaptation process, and that's how to keep the heart of the story in-tact, so more people from more fandoms could have a chance to share something they love with more people who it would otherwise not reach.

Anyway, thank you Oda and the OPLA cast and crew for doing live action right for once!

#one piece #one piece live action #OPLA #When Luffy was talking about breaking into the marine base my dad was like #'he seems like he's got a lot of confidence going for him' with a grinnand a chuckle #And then when Luffy was talking to Nami in the base my dad said something like 'other people seem to have a hard time saying no to him' #Also with a grin and a laugh #And bro if my dad becomes a Luffy fan too I will explode #Like he did laugh at Zoro and Nami a few times but he had the most to say about Luffy and none were complains #He didn't even seem to blink an eye at Luffy calling out attack names lmao #Long post #Just your regularly scheduled post where I gush about OPLA for too long #Tv show thoughts #It's not even that my parents have anything against animation they just for some reason have a really hard time getting immersed in it #Or connecting to what's happening #Even when they try something for my sake they just can't really get enthusiastic about it the way they can for live action stuff #Which I mean some people just don't vibe with certain mediums and that's okay

[whitneysgang2019]

Heartbeat

Onceler x Shy Fem Reader SMUT

First of all, I'm so sorry, I am weak and have fallen for the Tumblr sexy man *but he do be kinda hot tho*. So being the weak, cringy little thing I am, I now feel entitled to write shameless smut of a non eco-terrorist because I can. Yeah so this takes place before his greed era when he is a sweet, little baby, but has some slight greed tendencies. Also this is kind of a little different from the movie events wise but not by much. The reader lives in the forest (mega cottagecore aesthetic) and is very shy and secluded, but somehow managed to become friends with the Onceler. And when the time came to meet his family, things got a little crazy. Minors this isn't for you, please walk away. Enjoy my dears, and I'm sorry again for the cringe, I'm so sorry.

*side note: I started this like four months ago and dropped it for a bit, but I didn't want to abandon this project so yeah, here you go*

WARNING: 18+, Minors DNI, extravert and introvert dynamic, flirting, friends to lovers, angst, dysfunctional family, arguments (not with Onceler), confrontation, reassurance, confession, porn with plot, Slight inexperience, breath play, neck kissing, bulge palming, fingering, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex (p in v), comfort, literally the most loving man, whimpering, admiration kink, creampie, cuddles.

You watched as raindrops pitter pattered against the cold glass window of your little cottage. The rain had started earlier in the day, about the time you got back from your venture to the neighboring town not far outside the forest. The day started off so nicely, the sun was bright and there's wasn't a cloud in that big blues sky. You were actually hoping to get some gardening in today, and maybe a walk around the forest foraging some flowers to decorate your home with, but the day seemed to have other plans. On your way home, dark gloomy clouds set in and the cold rain began to fall. Sighing heavily you stepped away from the window in your living room and made your way to the kitchen, changing your plans to baking a pie or two. Pulling out one of your cookbooks you flipped to a basic mixed berry pie recipe and gathered the ingredients to start. Humming lightly to yourself as you made the dough for the crust, you thought you might make a double batch for a friend that lived half way across the forest.

He called himself the Onceler, he had moved to the Truffula forest almost a year ago, although it seemed like he'd been there a lot longer than that all things considered. He came to the forest with a small wagon, his mule Melvin, and big aspirations of success for his invention that he called a Thneed.

The two of you didn't converse much when he first arrived, considering you weren't much of a people person. In fact you often made it a point to not interact with people if you could help it. Having to talk and interact with people made you incredibly nervous and uncomfortable at times, so you kept to yourself. You preferred to stay at home and keep up around the house, do your crafts, and tend to your garden. It was easier for you to avoid conversations and be alone to try and overcome your deathly shyness on your own. It was so bad at times you thought for sure someone would make fun of you or point out all things that were wrong with how shy you were, but you carried on as best you could. You found peace and comfort in being alone, but there were times you wish you had someone to talk to. Being unable to break out of the tough, shy exterior made it almost impossible to make friends, it didn't stop the Onceler though.

The first day he moved to the forest he approached you with the upmost of confidence and was quite friendly towards you. When he saw how reserved and shy you were he backed off a bit and respected your need for space as he took his time getting to know who you were, not wavering his confidence whatsoever.

And, slowly but surely, you opened up to him. He would stop by your cottage daily whenever he'd go to town, checking up on you making sure you were well, and you'd do the same for him. You'd often bring him baked goods or fresh produce from your garden as a thank you for his kindness.

The two of you would spend a decent amount of time together when he wasn't working on trying to sell his Thneeds. Often sharing tea and talking about life was probably one of your biggest past times with him. Things you had a passion for, town life, and your life experiences were the most discussed topic when you were together. His big plans of becoming a successful entrepreneur were always on the forefront of his mind, and he was ambitious to meet those goals he had set for himself. You had to admit it was commendable in some aspects, the amount of work he put into his Thneeds and his efforts to hopefully get his products noticed were really something. Although you didn't agree with how he went about getting the materials for his Thneeds. Cutting down and using the tuffs of the Truffula tree wasn't what you expected nor really wanted to happen. You mentioned to him a few times how it made you upset and even asked if he'd promise not to cut down anymore of the trees out of respect for the forest. To which he said he'd oblige, and from that point on he hadn't cut anymore down.

After some time passed the both of you became incredibly comfortable with one another, to the point where you both confided in each other for just about everything. Whether it was on walks to town, while you picked away at your garden, or nights when you'd stargaze with him. You told him about all the reasons why you were so reserved and why you wanted to be alone. About all the people who abandoned you in your past, the ones who were supposed to be there for you, and how they just drifted away. It was easier not getting attached to people so you wouldn't be let down when they couldn't be there anymore. So you closed yourself off and away from the world, creating a little bubble around yourself. But he never judged you for what you did to protect yourself from something like that happening again. And he'd find himself doing what he could to reassure that he wouldn't be like the others, that he'd always be there for you no matter what.

There were days when he'd let down his happy go lucky attitude and tell you some of the more depressing parts of himself and his past. Just as you did for him. How he was afraid he would never be successful, and that his mother was right about him. He never had the best relationship with his mother, older brothers, or anyone in his family. He was often looked at as the black sheep of the family and was constantly belittled and made fun of for his ideas and ambitions. His mother never truly had any faith in him that he'd make it, and the last thing she and his family did was laugh at him as he left the only home he ever knew. It never faltered him though, no matter how bleak things seemed, he never gave up hope that things would work out. Even if it seemed no one else was going to support him or his ideas. And that's when you assured him you'd be there to support him along the way, through thick and thin.

As you made the filling for the pie you smiled to yourself while humming a light tune. Thinking about how nice it was to have a friend like him and how sweet he was to you. He'd always compliment you whenever you two were together, saying how nice you looked or how amazing you were. He never had anything bad to say about you and was always kind and respectful. You never had anyone like that in your life prior to him, and it was a really nice change of pace for you. Which in turn made you like him, a lot. Probably more than friends should like each other, and he seemed to reciprocate it from what you could tell. The way you two acted with each other sometimes wasn't really how people who were 'just friend's" acted. You two would secretly exchange looks of admiration while the other wasn't looking, the lingering touches whenever you hugged one another, and how he looked so deeply into your eyes from time to time during your conversations. Just the way he made you feel was something you couldn't explain and it was exciting, but scary all the same. Shaking off that bubbling feeling, you focused on finishing the filling and assembled the pie. You lightly covered the pie with the top crust pinched the edge's together, and sliced a decorative pattern in the dough before putting the pie in the oven.

...

You walked down a beaten path to the Onceler's home, umbrella in hand and a basket with the pie as well as some homemade jam. The rain lightly and rhythmically fell around you, making you a bit sleepy as you walked on. The little puddles that formed at the edges of the trail reflected your form, you looked down to see joyful eyes and a red face staring back at you. Turning your gaze back up to the path trying to ignore the sight of yourself. It wasn't long before the Onceler's home came into view and your heart began to beat faster and faster as you approached the door. A light fog from the rain surrounded the vicinity, giving the disproportionate structure almost and eery effect. You quietly walked up the steps as you heard the tune of a soft, solemn guitar playing with a slight hint of jazz. This was a tune you heard more than once, it usually meant that day trying to sell his Thneeds went especially bad. Preparing yourself for him to be in bad mood, you gently knocked on his door,

"Who is it," he asked very clearly irritated. You cleared your throat as you spoke up,

"It's me."

"The doors open," he said, his voice softening a little knowing it was you coming to see him. You closed your umbrella and opened the door quietly so you wouldn't interrupt his playing. You stepped into his home, softly closed the door behind you and set your umbrella aside before making your way into the kitchen. His home was a bit small and cramped, but you didn't mind it too much, it was manageable. You looked over to the Onceler, he was slouched in one of his kitchen chairs, feet propped up on a chair across from him as he strummed the chords. His eyes flickered up to yours for moment and shot you a sweet but defeated smile before looking back down at the strings. You sat the basket down on the side counter before cautiously approaching the table,

"May I," you gestured towards the empty chair next to him. Not looking up from his guitar he hummed lightly in approval. You pulled the chair out and sat down next to him, your hands resting on the edge of the wooden table. The two of you sat there for a minute, listening to the chords he strummed.

"Rough day?" He stopped playing for a moment at your question,

"Yeah you could say that," he said bitterly before strumming again. You let another minute pass before asking him softly,

"You wanna talk about it?" You asked kindly looking up at him. He stopped once again and set the guitar aside, crossing his arms while looking away from you. He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to keep himself from screaming at you in frustration. A few moments passed before he spoke in a strained manner,

"It just keeps getting harder and harder Y/N. Everyday I'm out there, rain, sun or snow, and no one listens to me. No one wants to hear what I have to say about my Thneeds. You and I both know it's a great product, and how it can improve everyone's lives, change the world. But they don't care. And it just feels like I'm wasting my time at this point," he said giving a heavy sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He continued pouring his heart out to you, saying how his family was right about him and how it felt pointless to continue trying to achieve his goal. He just wanted to see some resolve from his efforts, and to be able to prove his family wrong. You reached over to him and laid your hand on his shoulder,

"Hey, listen hun. I know I don't exactly what it's like doing what you do. Being out there trying to be somebody and bring something good to this world. And you knew it wasn't going to be easy Once, but that didn't stop you. You knew there were going to be days that seem harder than others, but you still kept going. I know the day is coming where someone is gonna say how amazing your Thneed is and your life is gonna go in an great direction, I just know it. Today was a bad day, but just think about what tomorrow could bring Once, it could be the day you become successful. Just think about it, ok sweetheart," you said taking your hand off his shoulder. He turned to you with a soft smile on his face as he removed his legs from the chair adjacent from him and hastily stood up from his. He took a few step towards you and leaned down, giving you a tight, compassionate hug.

"You're right, I just need to be more patient and try to stay positive. Thank you Y/N. You always know what to say, and how to make me feel alright again. I couldn't ask for a better friend," he said. You wrapped you arms loosely around him and smiled,

"Of course Once, I'll always be here for you." He let go of you and pulled you up from your chair as he walked over to the side counter where the basket was.

"What kind of goodies did you bring me today," he asked excitedly as he peeked into the basket.

"Mixed berry pie and some jam," you said cheerfully. The Onceler reached up into a cupboard and he pulled out two plates as well as some utensils for the both of you while you put the kettle on. He cut you both decent sized pieces of pie and drizzled a little bit of jam on top of each slice with a little sliver spoon. When the kettle roared out a sheer whistle you took it off the stove and poured it onto two empty mugs with a green tea bag in each. He handed you your plate and you made your way back to the table where you sat down and conversed over pie and tea for the remainder of that rainy afternoon.

...

Weeks past since your last visit with the Onceler, but your advice seemed to have worked well. He was still going out to town and trying to get his Thneeds to sell. Each and every day he was out there, and when he wasn't in town he was at home tending to his property. He would still drop in to check on you to make sure you were doing alright, as he always did. But it seemed like there was hardly any time to visit during those few weeks. Just both of you trying to keep up with your individual lives seemed to be more of a priority. You had to get your garden tilled and seeds as well as seedlings planted for the harvest in the fall. And he was more gungho than ever to start his business.

The sun was shining and the heat was hot as you dug holes for your beet seedlings. You tilled up the dirt multiple times a few days ago and plotted out where everything was going. You kneeled down into the freshly pulled up earth and began planting your seedlings. Getting a few rows in when you heard a noise coming from across the hill that broke you out of your rhythm. You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your gloved hand as you looked up into the distance. You saw the Onceler running swiftly, and very clumsily towards you with a massive grin on his face. You stood up and smiled as you waved to him as he approached you, he waved back very haphazardly as he continued towards you at full speed, shouting incoherently. Thinking he'd slow down before getting to you, you stood in your spot awaiting him, but that wasn't the case. Before you could process what was fully happening he was running onto your garden, took you into his arms and spun you around joyously,

"I did it Y/N. I really really did it," he cried out to you as he set you back on to the soft dirt, not letting go of you.

"What did you do, Once," you asked, a bit taken back by his sudden actions. His tight grip loosened as he looked you in the eyes, his bright blue eyes beaming,

"My Thneeds, I finally sold my Thneeds. Everyone loves them, and they want me to make more of them. You were right Y/N, all I had to do was stay positive and persistent. And it all paid off," the man was practically squealing at how happy and proud he was with himself as he hugged you tightly again,

"Thank you, thank you, thank you Y/N, I couldn't have don't it without you." You hugged him back and smiled,

"Of course Once, I'm so happy for you," you said to him happily. You really meant it when you said that to him, after all of the hardships he endured and the time he put into his craft, he finally got the resolve he wanted.

He kept you in his embrace for a few more moments before letting go of you and taking a few steps back. He took in the sight of you, his eyes going wide for a split second then softening again. Your knees dirtied from the soil of the garden, a loose short sleeved t-shirt hung loosely from your shoulders, and the slightest remnants of sweat from the heat laid across your skin. Your hair put up very messily, and bits of your clothes and skin covered in dirty hand prints as well as smears from your gloves, forgetting they were on your delicate hands.

You chuckled nervously and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind your ear as he stared at you admiringly. This wasn't uncommon for him to do every now and then, he'd just look at you with a silly little smile and loving eyes. You didn't mind it though, it made you feel special. He snapped back to reality after a moment, a dusting of pink creeping upon his face,

"Oh, well, I think this calls for a celebration don't you think? When you're finished with your garden you're more than welcome to come by my place if you'd like. We can have some supper and a drink or two," he said not looking you in the eye, his face growing a darker shade of pink. Nodding in response with a soft smile,

"I'd really like that Onceler, " you said quietly looking at him with a genuine smile. He returned the smile and gave you a quick hug,

"Alrighty I'll see you in a bit" he said before making his way home, practically bolting to get started on some more Thneeds. You chuckled slightly to yourself, finding his persistence and interest in this endeavor so sweet. You smiled to yourself once more before resuming your previous activities, settling into the soft soil and planting your seedlings.

After you finished with your garden, you went into your cottage to wash up before going to the Onceler's home. As you walked to the sink, you heard a harsh crashing coming from the forest and some of the animals screeching in fear. You ran outside to see a set of freshly dug up tire tracks not far from your home headed to the Oncelers. You rushed down the path to his home, an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of your stomach as you saw his home come into view. You saw a run down camper van parked haphazardly in front of his home and there were a fair amount of people crowded out in the front. You saw Onceler talking with them, a pained smile on his face as you approached him. When he saw you he smiled and approaching you,

"Hey," he said hugging you tightly before letting go. You looked at him, to the few people gathered in front of his house, then back at him confused.

"Uh hey," you said quietly, looking at the people behind him with an unsure expression. He looked at you confused for a moment before realizing what you were doing. He guided you over to the group of people, you hesitated, but did your best to hide it as he introduced you to them.

"This is Y/N, she's my neighbor and a dear friend of mine," he said kindly as he placed a hand in your shoulder. You gave them a curt wave and a half smile. Although they didn't seem impressed with you whatsoever. The women with glasses have a you a condescending sneer while speaking,

"I see, is she always covered in dirt or is that just today's attire?" They all snickered at her remark. You didn't realize you were still in your work clothes when your rushed there. A blush crept on to your face as you looked down in embarrassment. The Onceler caught on to your embarrassed state quickly rebutted,

"Y/N has been tending to get garden recently and I invited her up here after she finished. She just didn't have time to change is all. But anyways Y/N, this is my family," he said with false confidence. He gestured to the woman with glasses and poofy blonde hair,

"This is my mother, Isabella." She gave you the fakest smile you'd ever seen, clearly unimpressed with what she saw in you. He then gestured to the taller more robust woman in purple and the short man in the suit,

"Aunt Grizelda and Uncle Ubb," both of them seemed more or less indifferent towards you. And the finally to the two twins, who were both going you devilish grins,

"And my brothers Brett and Chett." You moved slightly closer to the Onceler, feeling a bit uncomfortable in your current situation with these people he called family. He told you about how they treated him, so you weren't exactly thrilled to be in their presence. Wondering why they decided to reappear in the Oncelers life you asked,

"What brings you all the way out here?"

Isabella seemed to be a bit taken back and slightly offended by the question. Snidely responding with,

"We came to see our little Oncie, after hearing about his success with his invention we thought we owed him a little visit." You 'hmmed' at her response, knowing that was only half true. She walked up to you and the Onceler, completely ignoring you when she said,

"Oncie dear, it's been so long since we've seen each other. We'd all love to stay for a while and catch up with you. Maybe talk a little bit about your amazing invention," she said pulling him away from you. He looked back towards you as she rambled, seeing the disappointment in your face as you turned to go back home. He loosened away from his mother's grip as he reassured her he'd be back,

"Hey hey," he said softly as he caught up with you. He stood in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders gently, trying to get you to look at him. You looked up at him, giving him a falsified smile,

"It's ok Once, they're your family. Go spend some time with them. We'll have that celebratory drink some other time." He looked at you with a somber expression,

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah Once, I'm sure," you said as you took his hands off your shoulders gently and gave them a slight pat. You nodded before giving you a quick hug,

"Soon, I promise." He let go of you and headed back towards his home, waving you goodbye. You waved back, not realizing how drastically everything was about to changes between you two.

...

A month or so passed, and his family's camper van still nestled in it's spot from when it first arrived. From what you could tell the Onceler had turned it and his home into a shop for making as well as distributing Thneeds. Not that it was the main issue in the forefront of your mind, no, it was something else entirely.

The few times you went to visit, his mother was always interjecting herself into your conversations and taking control as quickly as she could. Often making the excuse that her Oncie was incredibly busy, or that he had other things to attend to that were more important. Frankly you were getting just about fed up with her always keeping the Onceler away, forcing him to make more Thneeds, and making you feel inadequate comparatively to her and his family. How you're shyness was a weakness and that you'd need to grow a backbone if you were ever going to make it in the world. And how your lifestyle wasn't as preferable to high class living like theirs, if you'd call it that. Knit picking the little things about you she didn't like, how you dressed, the way you styled your hair, how you carried yourself and what you took interest in. Which in turn made you keep some distance between you and the Onceler, or more than you would've cared for anyways. You just felt that his mother had complete control over the entire situation.

Nothing about you was appealing to her. She thought that since the Onceler had became as successful as he was, he deserved better. Even though before his success she didn't care what happened to him, he was just a disappointment to their family.

It was to the point where you didn't know if you could keep it together. To not scream at her for the way she was acting, but you needed to stay calm and collected for the Onceler, it wouldn't be fair to him if you lost it on his insufferable mother.

You took a deep breath as you finished getting ready to go have those celebratory drinks with the Onceler. He was able to get away from his work and his family and invite to his place for supper and drinks to which you happily agreed. You put on a cute floral dress the hugged your form in all the right places, but left enough to the imagination for someones wandering eyes. You finished with some light makeup, a spritz of honey like perfume, and grabbed your basket with some freshly picked berries and wine.

The walk was short and sweet as you tried keep your thoughts focused on what you were looking forward to that evening. Just a nice, calm, quiet dinner and a couple drinks with your friend. That's what you were hoping for anyways if you were lucky. You walked up the steps, your heart beating rapidly as you approached the door and knocked lightly, hoping not to catch his families attention. The door opened almost as quickly as you knocked, the Onceler in the other side, looking a bit disheveled as he motioned you inside. You stepped inside hastily as he closed the door behind him. You looked to the table, two platefuls of pancakes topped off with butter, two empty glasses waiting to filled with the wine you brought, and a candelabra centerpiece. You smiled as you set the berries and wine on the table before turning to him,

"You did a good job Once," she said as she walked over to give him a hug. He smiled back, he looked tiredly at her as he hugged her back lightly.

"Thank you," he let go and pulled out the chair for her. She sat down and he pushed her in closer to the table and sat adjacent from her, looking at her with admiration in his eyes,

"You look lovely," he said quietly as he popped open the wine you brought and poured both your glasses half full.

"Thank you Once,"you said as you took your glass in hand, looking down and lightly swishing at the rosy pink liquid. You looked up at him and rose your glass to him,

"To you and your Thneeds Once." He clinked his glass gently against yours, drinking down the sweet burn. The two of you ate your super and caught back up, not that there's was anything new on your end of things, just tending to your garden. But it was a different situation for the Onceler. His business was absolutely booming, he was making and selling more Thneeds than he ever imagined. Money was flowing in abundantly and he loved it. Eveything that was happening to him was exactly what he wanted, its what he dreamed of when he first moved into the forest. But he wanted more,he wanted to bigger and bigger his productions, his distribution, and expand everything. You smiled forcefully, you were happy for him truly, but there was something about his plans that didn't sit right with you. It all felt wrong.

As you continued your conversation with him you heard the door slam open and his mother flamboyantly made her presence known. You groaned internally as she shouted,

"Oncie dear, Brett and Chett," she stopped mid sentence when she saw you, eyeing you down with an unimpressed grin.

"Oh goodness, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," she said sarcastically as she walked over to the Onceler. You looked at him with a look he'd never seen before, bitterness.

"Well actually mother we were-" She refused to let him finish as she pulled his chair out and pulled him up trying to push him out the door,

"I'm sure it's not as important as talking about your business endeavors dearie. I'm sure you're little friend here doesn't mind, right?" She asked snidely raising her brows maliciously. You sighed in frustration as you stood up from the table and brushed your dress down,

"I guess not." You took a few steps away from the table and began to gather your things when she made the nastiest comment you'd ever heard her say about you,

"That's what I thought, you're a lot smarter than I figured you to be. Knowing that my Oncie has more important things to do than run around with a silly little girl. And if I may dearie, next time maybe wear something a little less revealing next time you come around here. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to seduce my precious Oncie." She snickered in a sour tone.

That statement did it in for you. You had it with that woman and her antics. After taking so much disrespect from her for almost a month, you couldn't stand it anymore.

You were done.

You and the Onceler had stared at her in disbelief, you turned your attention her and snapped,

"How dare you? How are you say something so awful and disrespectful to a woman you don't know? In your entire time of staying here all you've done is pick me apart, nothing about me is good enough for you," you paused. Her face dropped, apauled by your statement. She was about to speak, but your cut her off as you resumed your vent.

"But that's not even the worst of it, the fact that you've been keeping the Onceler under your thumb and away from the people who actually care about him is absolutely awful. You didn't give a shit about him until he became successful with his Thneeds, only then did you run running to his aid. While I have been here with him since day one, I've been the one who's had to comfort him when he had a bad day. I'm the one who told him not to give up and that his efforts would pay off. And I'm the one who's supported him through everything he's been through, and I'm not just talking about his business endeavors," you took a deep breath, feeling the anger truly bubbling over and spilling out infront of the Onceler and his mother before you took a dangerous leap and said,

"You are a bad mother Isabella. And frankly you should be ashamed of yourself." You said as you gathered your basket and stormed out the door. Leaving an astonished Onceler and his fuming mother behind.

...

The walk home that evening was a brutal one. Angrily stomping down the path and slamming the door behind you as soon as you got home. You washed your face and put on a comfy T-shirt and shorts, wanting to just spend the rest of the evening being as comfortable as possible. Letting the events sink in, you realized how terrible you must have looked in front of the Onceler while you ripped apart his mother. You sighed, trying to figure out how you were going to face him after all that happened earlier that evening.

Sitting in your chair you had a cup of chamomile tea in hand as you read peacefully, trying to clear your head before you head a gentle knock at your door. You got up and approached the door slowly, looking out the window see a familiar face.

"What are you doing here Once," you asked through the door. Not that you were bothered by his company, you just felt now probably wasn't the best time for a visit considering the circumstances.

"Can I come in?" He asked kindly. You opened the door with a tired sigh, motioning him inside and out of the darkness.

He sat at the small kitchen table as you brewed up a pot of tea, placing the mug in front of him as you sat adjacent, the soft light from a table side lamp was the only source illuminating the room. You both sat in silence for a little while, listening to the tick tock of the clock and sipped your tea respectively. You cleared your throat and broke the silence as you asked,

"Why are you here Onceler?" His expression dropped when he heard the usage of his full name. The only time you used it was when you were upset or serious, which meant this situation didn't look good in his eyes. He set his mug down and rested his elbows on the table as he looked at you,

"I want to apologize to you for this evening," he paused before he continued. You perked up when he apologized and listened intently as he continued,

"What happened at my home should never have happened. It should've just been you and me enjoying a meal and a celebratory drink, not my mother interrupting and insulting you as she did. And I'm so truly sorry I never noticed how awful she's been to you, if I had known sooner I would've intervened. But now that I know, I've taken care of the problem, I had a very stern talk with her and she wont be bothering you anymore, I promise Y/N," he said with heartfelt eyes. You looked at him a bit dumbfounded, not expecting to have this conversation after such a horrendous evening, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. You smiled at him as you sipped your tea,

"You don't know how much I appreciate that Once, but you didn't have to do that. I could've defended myself just fine." He cut in abruptly,

"No I wanted to, the way she spoke to you wasn't ok at all. And if I'm being honest I felt obligated to defend you," he said as he anxiously placef his hand behind his head, a dusting of pink littered his cheeks as he continued.

"What she said about you really irked me, calling you a silly little girl and how you dressed inappropriately, I couldn't stand it." You looked at him confused, not sure why he was so upset and angry over his mother's words. Sure what she said was terrible, but it shouldn't have been enough to get him as fired up as he was.

"It made you that upset?" You asked as you finished your tea and stood up to collect the mugs you used, putting them in the sink to wash later.

"Of course it did, you're my best friend Y/N and I care about you...a lot" he said as he stood and opened his arms to you. You approached him and hugged him softly, feeling his arms wrap around you tenderly. You smiled and your heart began to race,

"I'm so happy to have you Once. You always make everything so much better for me and I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate it," you said as you tightened your arms around him. He brought his hand to your head and rested it there,

"I'm happy to have you Y/N. You make everything feel like a dream sometimes," he said softly as he pulled away and looked into your eyes. His face a deep crimson and his pupils wide and full as he looked at you, slowly leaning forward. You blushed as the space between you got smaller and smaller, making you're heart race as you placed your hands on his polyester vest,

"What are you doing Once?"

"I..I," he stammered as his eyes darted to the side, breaking contact with yours as he tried to find an explanation for his actions.

"Once?" Your voice was sweet and caring, and whatever else was in that tone of yours broke him down.

"There's something I should tell you," he started looking away in embarrassment before he continued once more.

"I've liked you for a really long time now, and I just never really knew how to tell you. I didn't want to ruin our friendship and make things awkward between us, so I just kept it to myself. But after tonight I realized how much you mean to me, and I don't wanna hide it anymore. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

You smiled as your face turned a bright red, now realizing that the man you had feelings for all this time felt the same way you did. Your hand wandered to his cheek and rested there, him leaning into your touch.

"I understand what you're saying very well Once," you grinned as you looked deeper into his icy blue orbs. Your heart raced against your breastplate harshly as his hand reached for your waist.

"You feel the same way?" He asked in a whisper. You nodded as you pulled him into a tight embrace. Feeling his hands cautiously wrap around your waist as he hugged back. Your hands lightly ran down his back, causing him to shiver involuntarily. You were about to pull back when he firmly held you in place, it wasn't aggressive, but enough to let you know he wanted you to stay there. His hot breath on your sensitive neck caused you to shiver slightly as you tried to steady your breathing. He took note of your body's reactions and he moved to face you,

"Is everything ok Y/N? You're shaking," he said in concern as he looked at you with a caring gaze. You nodded in response,

"I'm alright Once. Just," your face grew hot in embarrassment as you tired to find the right words to explain what was happening. You took a deep, jagged breath as you whispered,

"The way you were breathing against my neck, it felt nice." He gave you a devilish smile as he lowered his head back to your neck and let out a deep exhale. Your hands gripped at his back as you held in the need to moan, that was until he planted a soft kiss on your now ultra sensitive skin. You let out a low groan in response to his actions, feeling your self control dwindle as his kisses become more passionate against your neck. You gave out needy whimpers as you felt his nether regions begin to stiff against you thigh. Your hands roamed down as he began to playfully nip at your neck, causing you to moan out loudly.

"Once," you whimpered against his ear. He chuckled against your wet skin,

"So sensitive," he teased as he began to move his hands delicately up your shirt, testing the waters. Your hands moved down his back and maneuvered towards the front dangerously close to his now throbbing member, looking at him for permission. She nodded as he began to push the collar of your shirt down and kissed down your collarbone. Your hand gently brushed against his bulge, he shivered at your touch, groaning lustfully into your neck.

"Y/N," he gave a breathy grunt as your fingers skillfully ran along his shaft and rubbed his tip through his trousers. He was crumbling fast, as were you. Both stumbling over one another, your hand palming and rubbing vigorously as his kisses becoming more needy. You brought your hands up to his back as whispered in his ear,

"Let's take this to my room."

You didn't need to tell him twice, he practically carried you to your room and shut the door quietly behind him before approaching you slowly. He brought his hand to your face as he looked you in the eyes,

"I love you so much," he whispered as he brought his lips to your plush ones. Feeling his hands wander to your arms and gripped them gently as he lips moved down your jaw. You felt him pepper your jaw and neck in soft kisses before letting out a shuddered breath against your skin once more. You shook against him as his hands cautiously began to run up your shirt. You pulled away and lifted your arms, allowing him to take your shirt off, leaving your upper half bare for him. He pushed you lightly back on to the bed as he lips made contact with your collarbone. Causing you to shake and shiver under him as his hands pulled off your shorts and grasped at your thighs,

"Once," you moaned out softly as his lips traced the skin of your breast.

"Is this ok?" He let out a shaky whisper against the flushed skin. You nodded as you guided one of his hands that rested on your thighs to the heat between your legs. He looked up at you in surprise for a moment as you pressed his hand against your plush, slick folds. He let out a guttural moan from his throat as his expression of surprise turned to one of pure desire. He latched his lips on to your hardened buds, while his fingers gently pressed against your clit. You let out a squeal as he worked his fingers against your burning heat, placing a hand in his ebony locks to find some sort of grounding.

"I can hear your heartbeat Y/N," he said softly in between kisses and light nips at your skin. He began to trail his kisses down you stomach as his fingers gently pushed a long, slick covered digit into you. You shuddered at the fulfillment in your heat as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. It was almost cruel and how slow he was going, arching your back and slightly bucking you hips against his hand trying to create juts a little more friction.

His lips now hovered right above your clit, giving an exasperated sigh before licking a fat stripe between your folds and attacking your clit eagerly as he added another digit into your sopping pussy. You let out an loud, pleasurable moan as he continued to work his fingers against your wet walks and his tounge sucking on your clit tenderly. Your hands wandered down into his hair once more, keeping him firmly between your legs. You let out desperate, pleading moans as he continued his slow pace,

"Once, faster please," you begged in gentle, breathy burst as you felt the coil in your course slowly building up. He hummed against your pussy as he kept his steady pace, his face and hand lightly covered in your slick. Your fingers gripped and pulled lightly as his locks, needing more friction as the coil continued to build. And though he wanted to drag it out, he knew better than to overly tease you.

The pace of his limber fingers slowly picked up and his tounge swiped swiftly across your small bundle of nerves. He added a third finger, stretching you gently as his fingers pace steadily grew faster and faster. You pleas and moans filled to room, as well as the sound of your squelching heat against the Oncelers fingers. His free hand spread your thigh as far as it could go, trying to reveal as much of yourself to tim as possible, seeing you in all your wet, messy glory. You arched your back as far as it could go and threw your head back onto the pillow as you felt yourself losing control. Unfiltered moans spilling out of your mouth as you pressed his face in between your legs as much as you could without hurting him, wanting him to finish what he started. He hummed against you clit as his pace began to become erratic, wanting to speed up too fast, but knowing that if he'd slow down you'd be very displeased.

Your legs began to shake as your orgasm approached,

"Once, I, fuck," you mewled out. Cumming on his fingers and in his mouth as he gave an approving grunt. He lapped up your fluids thoroughly before stepping back and off the bed, stripping down in front of you. You looked up and down his form in admiration, seeing his lean torso and slightly toned arms made your heart beat faster in anticipation. Your eyes wandered down to his clear bulge in his boxers as he pulled them down swiftly letting his cock spring free.

It was fair in length, decent girth, a few veins scattered along the shaft, and a tip leaking ungodly amounts of precum. You looked up at him, seeing his face a deep red and avoiding eye contact with you, looking slightly ashamed of himself.

"Hey," you spoke sweetly and softly to him as you watched him hesitantly walk to your side of the bed, but not crawling in it.

"What's the matter Once?" You asked as he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at you with a shamed experience,

"It's just, I don't have much experience," he said as he rubbed to back of his neck. You gave him a remorseful smile and gestured him to come crawl in the bed next to you. He nodded as he made his way to you, his weight sinking into the mattress as he laid his head on your chest,

"It's ok Once, you don't have to feel ashamed for not having much experience. I'm here with you now because I want to be. And if it makes you feel better, I don't have much either, so we'll help each other along the way, ok?" You whispered to him and gave him a light kiss on his forehead head. He looked at you with the most loving look you'd ever seen in a man as his lips crashed on to yours passionately. He crawled on to of you cautiously as or not hurt you and spread your legs, feeling his patience depleting with each passing second. He pulled his lips away from yours and adjusted his throbbing member at your entrance, looking at you innocently for permission, you nodded your head with haste,

"Please Once," desire dripping off your tounge as he sheathed himself slowly inside of your wet folds. A loud, high pitched groan erupted from his throat once he was fully inside of you,

"Fuck," he cursed out in a breathy moan, his hands gripped your thighs tightly, trying to keep himself from being overly rough with you. You moaned out his name, letting your hands roam up his back and nails digging into his pale skin as he began to softly thrust his hips against yours. His thrusts were soft and gentle at first, his hands resting on your face as he looked into your eyes with need,

"You're so beautiful," he praised, placing a soft kiss in your forehead as his pace was slow and steady. He wanted to savor it, every movement, every expression you made, every sound, all of it. He never had any like this before in his life and never wanted to lose it.

You bucked your hips up slightly, wanting him to pick the pace as you moaned gently,

"Once, more, please," you begged slightly. He took note of your plea and thrusted faster and a bit more rough than before, causing you to let out a surprised yelp. He stopped for a moment and looked at you with worry,

"I'm not hurting you am I?" He asked in a breathy whisper. You shook your head as you pulled him in and against your chest,

"Not at all, I liked it," you whispered back. That was all he needed to hear from you. He nodded before he thrusted into you harshly, causing you to arch your back in pleasure. He chuckled to himself as he began to snap his hips against yours, thrusting his cock roughly in out of your dripping pussy. You let out desperate yelps and moans as he gripped your shoulders, your nails dragging against the skin of his back as he seemed to hit all the right spots.

"God you look so good like this, you're so beautiful Y/N," he moaned out, almost in a whimpering manner. You clenched around him in response as his gripped loosened on your shoulders and moved down to your hips. Gripping you tightly once again as his lips made contact with your neck, kissing and nipping gently as his moans began to turn into needy whimpers.

Your hands roam from his now scratched up back to his face, looking at him with loving eyes and taking in the sight of him above you. His face red, eyes completely drowned in lust and desire, and a light layer a of sweat across his brow. His grip became more harsh as he looked into your eyes,

"So, pretty," he stuttered as he pulled you up into a sitting position in his lap and he continued to thrust into you, slamming your hips down against his. The new angle allowed him to penetrate deeper into you, causing you to throw back your head in ecstacy, your release slowly approaching one again. Your moans and yelps became louder and more frequent as he thrusted up into you. He took note of how close you were and wrapped his arms around you, placing his hands on your back and gripping them gently,

"You close sweet girl," he cooed in a breathy whisper. You nodded as you squeezed you eyes shut and hugged him tightly. He kissed your head sweetly, his pace steady as you felt your release wash over you abruptly.

You gave him a long, pleasure filled moan as you squeezed your entire being around him, holding onto to him like your life depended on it. His pace slowly began to speed up and his moans and whimpers became more desperate,

"I love you so much, you're so perfect Y/N, fuck," he yelled against your neck, causing you to shiver in his arms. His soft grip on your back soon turned into his nails gently digging into your soft skin as his thrusts were harder than they'd been that night. He could feel he was close, his breath heavy, grip harsh and needy, as the sounds he made we absolutely unholy to say the least. You brought your lips to his ear as you let a out breathy moan,

"Please cum inside of me Once, please." That was enough for him. As soon as the words feel off your tounge, his body tensed up and shook as his cock twitched inside of you, letting himself fill you with his hot seed. He mewled out praises of you, how much he loved you and how good you were for him as he rode out his high.

You felt him soften inside of you before pulling yourself off of him, laying down next to him as he continued to catch his breath. He looked at you with soft eyes as he ran his slender fingers through your hair as he whispered,

"You have no idea how long I wanted to do that," eh chuckled as he kissed your cheek tenderly.

"Oh believe me, I know."

#onceler x reader #onceler #the onceler #Onceler x reader smut #the lorax

[kimsohn]

even if the world caves in,

pairing . chanhee x gn! reader (ft. vernon of seventeen) about . 13.5k words, fluff + angst, e2l fake-dating warnings . smoking, alcohol, cursing, suggestive (allusions to sex at the end), descriptive food mentions, y/n and chanhee are idiots chanhee lowkey doesn't deserve y/n, the plot kinda doesn't make sense but fuck it we ball ok, pls lmk if i missed things bc i probably did, also i wrote most of this at ungodly hours of the night and this is not proofread take this as your warning

synopsis . after your big break in cinema, the last thing on your mind is a relationship. unfortunately for you, the public has other plans, forcing you together with the journalist who's entire career is dedicated to your downfall. note . this is my submission for @deoboyznet's secret santa fic exchange! hihi @heemingyu i'm your secret santa!! (i'm so sorry this is like two days late and probably rushed forgive me) i went through like four different plots before settling on this one and writing it in one week 😭 i hope you enjoy!!! also thank you to @juyeonszn for staying up until 6am to beta for me what the fuck. ilysm. tagging . @invuwrld @gfksn @stealanity

Lately, the only thing that seems to greet you is the buzzing sound of your phone, incessant until silenced by your tired fingers.

You reach over as you stir awake, the action almost second nature to you as your hand catches ahold of the sleek object. You hit random buttons until your desired effect comes into play, answering the phone call and putting it on speaker, and you already know who it is before their voice even drifts through the microphone.

“Y/N! Get your ass up, you’re on the headlines.”

“Again?” you whine, rolling over in bed. “Is it good news or bad news this time?”

The man on the other end laughs, bitterly, and you push yourself off the bed in response. Your manager laughing, especially like that, is nothing amusing, and you rub your eyes as you try to get yourself awake.

“Oh, it’s bad, alright. Open your fucking phone, Y/N.”

You do exactly that, immediately thumbing over to Twitter and seeing your name trending. Afraid of which one of your many stupid decisions has made the headlines today, you press the hashtag, cringing at the first picture.

“Of course, they got pictures of me drunk,” you mutter, scrolling through the list. “Wasn’t this Juyeon’s private party, like months ago? How did these photos leak?”

“It doesn’t matter Y/N,” your manager sighs from the other side, and you feel a twinge of guilt for always putting him through this situation, “you’re an actor. Nothing in your life is private anymore, especially you pole dancing on top of the bar.”

Your facial muscles twitch as you come across the aforementioned picture, seeing yourself busting out dance moves on the marble. You have to hold back a laugh, seeing how something so ridiculously insignificant is dragging your name through the mud right now.

“But Vernon, you have to admit, the pictures are kinda hot.”

He grumbles on the other side before he cuts the call, and you fall into bed giggling, scrolling through other pictures. You have a cigarette in one hand and a tequila glass in the other, and that explains why you remember absolutely nothing about that day.

A text notification appears at the top of your screen, and you swipe down to see none other than Vernon who you were on call with five seconds ago. He’s sent you the link to an article followed by a message.

This is the article that leaked the video. Check out the name.

You click on the link, and your face falls at the name of the website. It falls even more when you see the name of the writer, and you press your fingers to your forehead. You immediately call Vernon again, watching the phone ring twice before he picks up.

“Can we fucking blacklist him, Vernon?” you seethe, gripping your phone tightly.

“I’m afraid not. He’s just a journalist, not a stalker.”

“He might as well be with the way he’s always up to date with my private information.”

You punch your pillow, watching your fist pathetically curl into the bedding. It doesn’t have its intended effect, only reminding you of how weak you are physically and mentally. You don’t get into scandals often, probably because you’re a rare, good person in the horrible field that is Hollywood, but whenever you do, you have one journalist to thank for it.

“I told you, nothing is private in your life anymore.”

Vernon goes off on a tangent about how you should’ve been more careful, how you shouldn’t have drunk your ass off, but you can’t find it within you to care. There was technically nothing wrong with what you did (except for maybe the indecency, but it’s a bar for fuck’s sake), but as a famous actor with a huge fanbase, you understand why your manager is angry. Dancing on top of a counter and smoking should not be the kind of precedent you set for your fans, especially the younger ones, and your actions have a lot more weight to them now that you’re in the public eye.

It’s just stupid because you’re a regular person. At the very least, you deserve to have some privacy regarding decisions you make, especially ones that are so insignificant. 

“Vernon,” you interrupt, “it’s okay. My movie is coming out later this week, so I think it’ll die down quickly.”

“I know, but you’re lucky that this was a trivial issue. If you get caught in something truly fucked up, another movie won’t be able to save you.”

“I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

He hangs up, reminding you that you have a screening to attend later today and an interview. Your eyes drift back to the article again, reading the headline.

Hollywood’s favorite celebrity turned dancer.

You shut your eyes, breathing in and out so you don’t lose your composure. The universe is lucky you’re a rational, decent human being because if you weren’t, the writer who’s been practically harassing you would’ve been long eliminated by now.

Choi Chanhee, you read, familiar with the name. The infamous writer that’s always on your tail. It’s as if he dedicates his whole life to ruining you because he’s always the first to write things that make your crown slip. Almost all of your scandals, from particularly stupid ones at the beginning of your career to your most recent one, have been written by him. He’s practically obsessed with you at this point, and you don’t know what it is about you that ticks him off.

You toss your phone to the side, trudging over to the bathroom to get ready. Unlike Chanhee, you don’t have the time or patience to worry about trivial things like gossip pages. Choi Chanhee is just one, minor obstacle in your way. Just someone insignificant.

A long time ago, the flashing lights of cameras would’ve blinded you. Now, as a seasoned actor, you’re quite immune to the brightness that surrounds you when you walk the red carpet. You smile and pose, reveling in the cameras and the interviews that follow, asking for details about your current movie and the process behind the scenes.

You’ve just finished off an interview about the movie’s wardrobe when a black-haired man comes up to you. The lens of his thick glasses shines against the cameras in the background, and you have to look down to avoid the glare from the reflection.

You read his name tag and your face drops. You immediately look up, putting on a forced grin.

“Choi Chanhee. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He smiles, and the corners of his mouth curl as if he knows of your extensive distaste for him.

“It seems you know who I am already. Let’s get started with the interview then. First question: do you have anything to say regarding your latest scandal at the bar?”

You’re gritting through your teeth as you answer.

“No comment. Next question, please.”

“What are your opinions on the latest controversy surrounding Lee and Co., the production company behind your movie?”

He fires off a few questions, all as controversial as the last, and the only thing that keeps you from slapping him right there and then is your media training that Vernon had drilled into you while in the car.

“He will be there,” Vernon had said, fixing your watch, “don’t give him anything to work with. Just focus on promoting your movie.”

You’ve followed his advice for the solid ten minutes Chanhee has bombarded you, but even your patience is wearing thin. You’re tired of being asked about the same scandals repeatedly from different angles, and you have to admit that even if he’s doing an amazing job as a journalist, it’s not looking good for your conscience.

“Chanhee,” you interrupt, watching him pause in the middle of a question, “do you have any substantial questions about the movie, or are we done here?”

His face contorts as if he had just been thrown tomatoes at, and the devil in your brain beams from his expression. He flips through his notes, flicking through a couple of pages before landing on one that’s up to his liking.

“Okay, one last question then. Who was your favorite person to work with during this movie?”

You pause, mulling over the question. You watch as his eyes traverse his notes, and you wonder what trick he has up his sleeve. You guess that he will probably bring up something about the person who’s name you’ll recite, so you think carefully before answering.

“I don’t have one particular favorite. I love them all,” you answer honestly and safely, with no room for scrutiny.

He nods, shutting off the recorder before packing his bag and giving you a slight bow. The narcissist in your brain revels in how good he looks bowing down to you, but you pay your respects in return.

“Thank you for your time, Y/N.”

You watch as he saunters off, probably off to his crew, and you blink a few times before shifting your attention to the next reporter with an eager smile.

Hours later, you find yourself outside, exchanging the chaos inside for a fresh breath of air. Your director has indulged in an after-party, one you’re grateful for too, but after a couple of glasses of wine and many more hours of talking to fellow celebrities, you need a moment of solitude.

 The air outside is crisp and cool, and you find yourself wishing you’d brought your jacket out to accompany you. Your vision is slightly blurry and your stance is wobbly, but you find a bench nearby to take a seat at. You stare at the pond across from you for a while, throwing rocks into the water and watching how far they travel.

A cigarette accompanies you, and the puffs of air you release are visual representations of how relaxed you want to feel. You’ve just released a movie, and you should be thankful, but as an actor, your mind never rests due to the endless possibilities you can ponder over. Moments like these where you find yourself completely alone, with nothing to worry about, are rare, and you try to curb your mind from ruining the moment by overthinking.

However, your moment of peace is interrupted by a loud shutter behind you, and you quickly turn around, afraid of what the paparazzi would say if they caught you like this. A figure disappears around the corner, but as you hear the clacking of their footsteps, you know exactly who it must be.

“Chanhee, I know it’s you.”

Moments pass before he steps out from behind the wall, holding a camera in his hands. The object, in contrast to the suit he wears, is so uncoordinated that you burst into a fit of laughter, over-emotional from the wine you had earlier.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks cautiously, treading the waters.

“I didn’t know you were a photographer too! You’re an all-rounder for sure.”

“Look,” he whispers as if his guilt will excuse his actions, “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You pat the empty space next to you. “Here, sit next to me.”

He takes a seat warily, as if you have a gun in your hands, but relaxes once he sees you dangling your feet. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be sitting next to you, heck, even interacting with you, but you don’t seem to really mind as you throw another rock into the water.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask, staring at him with glossy eyes. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

“Are you drunk?” he asks instead, realizing this isn’t the pristine condition he saw you in a couple of hours ago.

“It doesn’t matter,” you sniffle. “What did I do to make you absolutely despise me?”

Chanhee sighs, staring at the ripples in the pond. He picks up a rock, swinging it as far as he can before it settles to the bottom of the pool. It goes way farther than any of the rocks you’d thrown before, and you pout miserably as you cease your ministrations.

“It’s my job. I get paid for writing about your downfall.”

“But… you don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Chanhee recognizes that he won’t get anywhere with this argument because you’re drunk, so instead, he turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders so you look at him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Here, I won’t even post the pictures that I took today.”

He deletes the pictures from his camera, showing you after it’s done, and you surprise him by throwing your arms around him. You’re too far gone to realize the weight of your actions, but he isn’t, so he tries to gently pry them off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whisper after he’s done, slumping across the bench half-asleep, “thank you for being nice. For once.”

He blinks once, twice, before he exhales, turning around on his heel and disappearing into the darkness. Later, when Vernon picks you up from the bench, you tell him that a pretty fairy saved you from disaster. He won’t believe you, but you know it’s true in your heart.

You’re nursing your hangover when you decide to turn on the news. You settle into your comfortable couch, holding a bowl of hangover soup and trying not to succumb to the pain radiating throughout your forehead.

Not often do you watch the news, choosing to opt out because it’s usually annoying and gives you a headache, but Vernon’s somehow using two devices to watch his show on Netflix so you’re forced to resort to this. You think you might die if you don’t distract yourself from the migraine that’s been occupying your senses, so the news will have to suffice.

You flick through the channels, not interested in the politics or the weather, but your fingers pause when a bright pink headline catches your eye. It’s the gossip channel, and this is usually the channel you’re warned to stay far away from, but you can’t help but watch the video playing when the headline specifically features your name.

Y/N caught in a secret relationship, embracing a secret lover by the pond.

Your mood turns sour when the clip features events from last night, ones that are still fuzzy in your brain. You didn’t expect to be reliving this situation, but your heart all but drops when you realize the snippet features you and Chanhee in the frame, hugging each other as if you had indeed been lovers. The worst part is that Chanhee didn’t even reciprocate, but that isn’t featured in the headline, so it truly does look like you two have a thing for each other.

This time around, you call Vernon first instead of the usual.

“Y/N,” he whispers groggily as if you had woken him up, “what happened?”

“Please turn on the fucking news Vernon.”

You hear shuffling from the other side, a few minutes of rustling before you hear the blaring of the TV and a similar sound drifting through his microphone. You get a few minutes of pin-drop silence before all hell breaks loose.

“Who the fuck is that?!” he exclaims, and you hear his feet angrily pacing around. “Was this last night? I thought I told you to be more careful, to look out for your surroundings—”

“Vernon, it’s Chanhee.”

The only thing you hear from Vernon is his angered breaths, and it takes mere seconds before you burst into tears, fed up by this situation and the terrible migraine you still have. You just want to curl up into a ball and never step foot into the universe again, and your resolve only strengthens when the line goes dead. You can’t help the tears that come to bay, rippling through you like a shockwave that never seems to end.

Insistent knocking at your door a few moments later is the only thing that stops the tears from falling, and you quickly wipe them before opening the door. Vernon stands at the other side, his hands in his pockets and eyebags above his cheeks, but his gaze softens when he sees your puffy eyes and you hugging yourself.

He brings you into his embrace, your tears staining his hoodie, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. Vernon just caresses your back, knowing the only thing you need right now is a gesture of comfort, and you burrow into his chest further. Right here, in the middle of your entryway, Vernon provides you with the best version of reassurance he can offer: a simple, caring hug.

“I was drunk,” you mutter when you’ve calmed down, speaking through the sniffles that escape you, “and we were just talking. You know I get touchy when I’m tipsy.”

“I figured,” he says, unraveling himself from your embrace. “Does the press know it’s him?”

“No, but I expect they’ll find out soon enough.”

You follow him as he takes a seat on the couch, watching the headlines on the TV. The gossip channel has long moved on from your news, but you haven’t, and fear of what will happen to either you or Chanhee is killing you.

“We need to contact him before then,” he voices, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “I think I know someone from his office.”

“Wait, why?” you ask, trying to peer over at his phone, watching him scroll through his contacts. “Wouldn’t it just be best to let the rumors die down?”

“If this was a celebrity, we could’ve done that. But Chanhee is a regular human being, and this could potentially destroy his career.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you murmur under your breath, watching Vernon deadpan.

“Look, I know you hate him, but he doesn’t deserve to be criticized for something he didn’t even do. Let’s just talk to him and see what he has to say, okay?”

You nod, falling back on the couch. The migraine still bothers you, and you rub your fingers across your forehead to massage it.

Five days ago, you would never have expected to be in this position. To you, Chanhee was just a name on a screen, a faceless figure haunting your dreams. How fitting is it that his very first encounter with you led to your worst nightmare?

You hear Vernon dial his contact, watching the phone ring several times before a line picks up. Vernon speaks gratefully, grabbing the pen and paper that you have lying around on your coffee table as he scribbles down some information.

“We have a meeting,” he says, showing you the piece of paper, “in five hours. Be ready by then.”

Just what exactly have you gotten yourself into?

The bright lights and white walls in the meeting room make it look like a prison cell, and the atmosphere does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves. You’re tapping your foot anxiously, sitting in an unfamiliar space in an unfamiliar building, but Chanhee requested a meeting in his office building, and you have no other choice but to go with it.

You’d be lying if you said you were nonchalant about the whole atmosphere, but you try to keep yourself composed as you wait for him to enter. Vernon sits beside you, going through some papers in his briefcase that only a manager would know about, and his presence is the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

“Just let me do the talking, okay?” he’d said before entering, “The last thing we need is another argument on our hands.”

Even though the comment offended you, you honestly would be better off trusting his judgment. You and Chanhee don’t exactly have the best track record, and if either one of you says something even slightly off, the room would probably explode into insults. You honestly don’t even have the strength anyway to hold up a fight, so you slump into your chair, adjusting your jacket and reeling in your patience.

The doorknob twists and you and Vernon straighten your postures, trying to look presentable for your audience. Chanhee enters, followed by a blonde-haired who you’d assume to be his boss, and you rise so you can shake their hands. Chanhee ignores your attempt at waving a white flag, choosing to shake Vernon’s instead before sitting down at a seat, but his boss smiles and grabs your palm tightly in his.

“Hello, I’m Sangyeon. It’s nice to meet you.”

You exchange pleasantries as you sit down, and once you get over the initial awkwardness, you shut your mouth and wait for Vernon to speak up.

“So, I’m sure you guys have seen the news and are well aware of why we’re here.”

Sangyeon nods, urging him to continue.

“I understand what you might be feeling right now Chanhee,” Vernon follows, catching Chanhee’s gaze, “and we’re extremely sorry for the trouble that this has caused you. However, I have a proposition that might benefit both parties, if you are interested.”

Chanhee’s silence prompts Vernon’s explanation, and you lean in, curious about what he has to say too. Vernon had offhandedly mentioned that he had a deal to make, but you don’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s about to propose.

“I was thinking we play into the rumors. We can say Y/N and Chanhee met at a press conference and hit it off a couple of weeks ago. After we plan a few more appearances, we can stage a public breakup in a few weeks so that everything can go back to normal.”

You blanch, ready to refuse the idea, but Chanhee beats you to it.

“Why would I agree to a relationship with Y/N?”

“Hey,” you start, offended by his implications, “what’s wrong with dating me?”

Chanhee scoffs.

“Don’t even start, Y/N. This is all your fault after all. I didn’t know you liked me that much that you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

You’re seeing blood red, crazed at the malice behind his words.

“I was tipsy! And how was I supposed to know that someone was stalking us? If anything, it was your fault for deleting those pictures and being nice to me.”

The room erupts into chaos as you throw petty insults at each other, similar to a catfight. It takes Vernon holding you back physically to get you to calm down, but even after you’ve calmed down, you’re still staring daggers at him.

“Look, Chanhee, I understand this is not ideal for either of you given the nature of your jobs. But if you think about it, when the press finds out that it’s you in the picture, how will you be able to resume your writing? Who will take you seriously if you write hate articles about the very person that you were caught with?” Vernon asks, trying to reason with him.

Chanhee falls into silence, and he looks at his manager. His manager offers him a pitiful glance, knowing that Vernon is right.

“You don’t have to be lovey-dovey with each other,” Vernon continues, hoping to ease the terms. “You just have to appear in public for a couple of dates. We can use your old articles to prove that you guys have had romantic tension, so we’ll have background evidence too. When Y/N breaks your heart in a couple of weeks, you’ll have the perfect reason to continue writing hate articles.”

“It’s like enemies to lovers to… enemies, right?” Sangyeon asks, humming after Vernon nods, “I think it’s a good idea Chanhee. You’ll gain a lot more exposure after the whole thing is over too. If we continue going as it is, the press will ruin your career, and I’d have no other choice but to fire you. I think this is the best decision for your future and the company.”

Chanhee sighs, rubbing his temples. As much as you despise him, you can sympathize with the fact that he has a difficult decision looming over his head. The fate of his career rests in your hands, the person he’s dedicated a lifetime to ruining, and you can imagine just how insane his internal conflict might be.

“I’ll do it,” you voice, watching the room’s reactions carefully.

Chanhee’s eyes shoot up at you, clearly not expecting your admission.

“I would hate to be the reason you had to quit something you love. Besides, I’ve been in too many scandals recently anyway; I think a relationship could do my career some good.”

You don’t know if your attempt at a joke resonated with him, but his shoulders relax and he bores his eyes into you. His eyes are sharp and feline-like, but his brown pupils are almost the exact opposite, thoughtful and deep. He’s a little pretty, you realize, when he’s not trying to sabotage your entire career.

You’ve tried to stay level-headed after your argument earlier, as a gesture to Vernon, but you can’t contain your surprise when he nods a few minutes later.

“Okay, I’ll go with your plan. But I want four weeks, not five.”

“Deal,” you say, reaching over with an open palm before Vernon can even say anything.

This time around, Chanhee does reciprocate your gesture, shaking your hand firmly. The white flag flies freely over your heads, and you can only pray that these next four weeks will be over just as quickly as they started.

The news blows up fairly quickly after it’s published, even faster than any of the scandals you’ve been in. After the announcement your companies sent out confirming your relationship, you posted a picture of Chanhee to your Instagram story to show support from your side. Never have you garnered so many notifications in a single day, but you’re not complaining. You suppose your fans have also been waiting for you to get into a serious relationship, seeing that you’ve been single since your acting debut, so the update is received with a mostly positive reaction that you’re thankful for.

However, just the news and a picture alone aren’t going to cut it. Arguably, the hardest part of this whole ordeal is your interactions with Chanhee, making your relationship believable enough so your fans don’t think this is the PR stunt like it really is. Your first order of business is taking Chanhee along on a date tonight to a movie premiere, the first actual public appearance you two will be making.

To say you’re nervous is an understatement. The last time you saw Chanhee, it took Vernon’s presence to stop you from biting his head off. How will you even survive a whole event together, let alone act like a couple?

You tell Chanhee to show up a couple of hours earlier so you can plan out the details, unable to keep your nervousness at bay. You don’t know if Chanhee is as anxious as you, but Vernon always says it’s good to stick to a plan, so calling him over isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.

Actually, it might be a little bit bad.

“Wow,” you say, your throat suddenly parched from seeing his clothing, “you clean up nicely.”

Nice is the simplest you could describe his outfit. He’s wearing a black suit, indented polka dots scattered across the black cloth. Paired with a white shirt underneath and matching tie, along with those round glasses that are definitely growing on you, he looks just like another A-list celebrity in the crowd. Maybe even a model if you would care to admit it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, unbuttoning the jacket to strew it across your couch, “it’s kinda hot in here, no?”

You would agree, but your mind is currently occupied with how delicious he looks in just a simple white shirt and a tie. You have half a mind to tell him that he really should quit his job and become a model instead, but you settle for nodding instead.

“It’s probably because of all the facial stuff we did earlier,” your stylist Kevin says, walking over to place clips in your hair, “it’ll calm down in a little bit.”

Chanhee’s eyes widen when Kevin enters, his eyes staring at you in panic and moving over to Kevin before they travel back to you. You laugh, amused with how seriously he’s playing the part.

“He knows,” you reassure him, “most of my close staff know, so you don’t need to worry.”

Chanhee exhales in relief, his head drooping down into his arms. Kevin meets your gaze before quirking an eyebrow, and you shake your head, not wanting to indulge in his teasing.

“Okay,” Chanhee says after he’s calmed down, leaning into the couch, “what’s the plan?”

“Well, since this is our first time in public together, we can keep it simple,” you start, wincing when Kevin tugs on part of your hair a little too hard, “maybe holding hands, walking next to each other, maybe a hug if we’re up for it.”

Chanhee looks disgusted, and you honestly can’t even disagree with him. You’re not exactly happy about jumping straight into skin-to-skin contact with the guy you hate, but this is the bare minimum for a relationship and you intend to follow through.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you sigh. “You do know that we’re going to have to kiss at some point, right? This is probably the tamest we’ll get.”

“Hey, don’t haunt the poor guy,” Kevin says, pulling out a makeup palette. “Just take it slow, okay? It’ll be a while before you get to that stage.”

You disappear into your bedroom to change after Kevin is done with your styling, and Chanhee visibly relaxes once you’re gone. It’s not like he wants to murder you with every fiber of his being, but something about you puts him on edge, and he can’t tell what it is.

“Are you still stressed about the kissing thing, dude?” Kevin asks while packing up his supplies. “Y/N’s just saying that to scare you, so don’t worry. Besides, after you see them in this outfit, you might change your mind.”

Kevin leaves with a wink, and Chanhee is left to scramble for its implications. You can’t possibly look good enough to kiss, right? He’s seen you countless times, and the only time his resolve ever-so-slightly wavered was when he saw you in person about a week ago. That was because you were drunk, though, of course. Not because he was facing you, flesh to flesh, for the first time in his life.

His overthinking ceases though when you step out of your bedroom, and he can’t stop Kevin’s words from floating through his brain.

You’re beauty personified, he thinks, from the tips of your curled hair to the bottom of your glass footwear. The silver-length outfit you adorn is something to die for, heck, you are someone to die for, and Chanhee can’t even breathe because he just imagined you standing next to him and the room is suddenly very, very hot.

“Ready to go?” you ask, adjusting a couple of rings on your fingers.

Chanhee dumbly nods, now realizing why literally everyone is in love with you, and he stands abruptly. He follows you to the front like a puppy dog before you turn around and start giggling. He doesn’t even register you speaking because suddenly, your giggles aren’t annoying and all of your sounds are like songbirds from heaven.

“You forgot your blazer, silly. Here, I’ll get it.”

While you turn back around, walking to the sofa, Chanhee slaps himself. Gently, of course, because he doesn’t want to ruin his face before the red carpet, but just enough to remind himself of his position in this whole scheme. You’re a celebrity, obviously you look good, and he can’t lose his morals just because you look stunning after being dolled up.

You’re a celebrity and he’s a journalist. A journalist who gets paid to antagonize you. Realistically speaking, even just meeting you should have him seeing red. He should not of all things, be pretending to date you, and he definitely should not be reconsidering his life decisions after spending two hours with you.

He just has to get through these four weeks. You’ll be out of sight, out of mind before he even knows it.

“When the cameras start flashing, just look forward. Don’t ever look at them straight in the eye, otherwise, you’ll feel dizzy.”

Chanhee grumbles as you continue rambling, but you can’t find it within you to stop. You’ve never had a public relationship like this, especially with someone who’s not a celebrity, so the desire for perfection is getting to you.

Any small thing could fuck this up and not only ruin Chanhee’s career but yours too. What would the public think if they found out you were lying about a relationship? Heck, you wouldn’t be able to trust your own self after that, let alone the public.

“Y/N, it’ll be okay. It’s just handholding and a hug, right?”

“Yeah, but we need to look like we’re in love,” you huff, your head drooping as you play with your fingers in your lap.

You feel a hand cup the side of your chin, bringing you up to Chanhee’s gaze.

“Look at me,” he starts, thumbing your cheek, “we’ll be fine. Just stare into my eyes like this, and no one will ever doubt us.”

You don’t get to tell him that you might be believing it too with the way you can’t stop gazing at the twinkle in his eyes and the fondness in how they crease. You’ve met many gorgeous celebrities in your life, but not once have you ever felt your heart beat so heavily until this moment.

“We’re here,” Vernon interrupts from the front seat, breaking your intense gaze, “get ready.”

The flashing blinds you as soon as the car door opens, but you’re immune to the glares at this point. Chanhee, however, is not, so your only focus is being by his side until you walk inside the venue. You exit first, waiting until he steps out beside you before interlacing your fingers together and offering him a chaste smile, hoping it’ll calm his nerves.

He grips your hand tighter as you walk, and you both ignore the press shouting from around you. The screams seem extra prevalent today due to his presence, and you hope he isn’t feeling bombarded by the chaos around him. You focus on Chanhee, watching as he stares back at you to ground himself. You walk quickly in unison with him, counting your steps and smiling for the camera as you finally step inside the entryway.

“Are you okay?” you ask after you’re situated, having a few minutes of peace before you’re off to star on the red carpet. “I know that must’ve been a lot.”

“It’s fine. It’s over now. It was chaotic, but it helped to just focus on you.”

A twinge of heat flutters across your cheeks, but you pay no attention to it.

“I’m glad. Don’t worry, we don’t have any more red carpets in our schedule.”

He unlaces his fingers from yours, something you’d completely forgotten about, but you don’t have time to mull over the loss of his warmth before Vernon pushes you to the red carpet to get ready for the pictures. You take deep breaths, reveling in the mere seconds you get before the flashing starts again and you are simply an object for the camera. You pose, striking a big grin for the camera and remembering your media training. This is what you do best, being a celebrity, and suddenly you find comfort in this familiarity after all the turmoil you’ve been through the past couple of days. No Chanhee, no relationship, no headlines, just you and the camera like always.

However, you can’t stop your eyes from wandering when you get a break, watching Chanhee converse with Vernon. You let your daydreams drift, wondering how he would look like posing next to you for the camera, how he would laugh and answer questions about your relationship so giddily, or even how he’d stare into your soul like earlier before, bearing his heart for the taking.

You know that he won’t even meet your gaze after the four weeks are over, but you let yourself indulge in your imagination anyway. You’ve been touch-starved for so long, so it’s only natural that you have these thoughts about affection, right?

You walk back to Chanhee after you’re done, joining him and Vernon as you travel the venue. The place looks spectacular, with intricate chandeliers and a whole buffet of delicacies, and you make it a point in your mind to compliment the mastermind behind this all, Juyeon, when you see him.

Vernon leads you guys over to the food, piling the spring rolls on his plate until you glare at him to stop. Chanhee restrains laughter behind a mouth full of cupcakes, but even you have to agree with Vernon’s eagerness when you take a bite of the macadamia cookies. You’re on your fourth one when Juyeon saunters over to you, his goofy grin ever-so-present on his face.

“Y/N! Long time no see, right? I haven’t talked to you since my party months ago.”

“It’s been too long. I love the venue, by the way. You always outdo yourself.”

“Don’t talk to me about outdoing things. Look at you with your new boyfriend!”

You glance over at Chanhee, who’s busy trying to see how many spring rolls Vernon can fit in his mouth. You grimace, turning back to Juyeon. You know Vernon’s your manager, but sometimes it feels like you have to keep him on a leash instead of the other way around.

“Yeah it’s… a recent development, but I’m happy.”

“I’m surprised you got into a relationship in the first place. After you rejected me, I kinda thought you weren’t looking for love.”

Juyeon clutches his chest in fake agony, and you roll your eyes. Juyeon asked you out years ago when he was the director of your film, and he never fails to bring it up whenever he sees you. You still aren’t looking for love, of course, but your recent news is probably a shock to Juyeon and the many other people you’ve rejected over the years.

“I’m not incapable of love, Juyeon,” you sigh, looking back at Chanhee again, “I just needed to find the right person.”

The word love has never meant anything special to you, but when you look at Chanhee, you feel your heartstrings pull at your chest. Finally having a boyfriend, even if he’s fake, means you have the ability to love and be loved, and maybe you’ve been denying yourself happiness far too long for the wrong reasons.

As you wave Juyeon goodbye, sauntering over to Chanhee, you walk with a change in mindset. The situation you’re stuck in isn’t perfect, but you decide that it’s best to make the most out of it.

“Y/N, watch out!”

Suddenly, your whole world turns upside down, and you brace yourself as you fall backward, watching the twinkling of the chandeliers above you. You shut your eyes as a reflex, expecting the hardness of the wooden floor beneath you, but instead, you feel a strong hand supporting your back. You open your eyes to see Chanhee, but as his orbs bore into yours, all words tie on the tip of your tongue.

This close to him, you can see his faint eyeliner, the slight curve of his nose, and the barely visible mole on his top lips. It feels like the world is spinning still, but as Chanhee breathes, exhaling a soft puff of air, your gaze remains grounded only on him as he cradles you gently.

The sound of a camera startles you both, and Chanhee pulls you up, staring at Vernon. You smooth down your clothing, clearing your throat as you eye the culprit.

“What was that for?” you ask, throat slightly parched by what happened mere seconds ago.

“Whatever practice you guys did together before coming here definitely worked, because this picture definitely looks like you’re in love. I’m gonna leak it to a local magazine, so good job for today’s work.”

Your cheeks burn as he shows you the picture, and your gaze flits over to Chanhee. His expression is indiscernible, and you have the sudden urge to know exactly what’s running through his mind. Was he just as affected as you, or was this just a mere act of kindness?

The rational part of your brain hopes it’s the latter, but the heaviness of your heart might have different aspirations.

Your phone dings as you finish applying the last bits of your mascara, and you pad over to your couch, seeing Chanhee’s text message on the top of your screen.

Be there in five.

It’s been a week since Juyeon’s movie premiere, a week since your heart has practically gone haywire. You’re a celebrity, if anything, you’re the last person to be looking forward to a text, but you found yourself checking Chanhee’s chat every morning and being disappointed when nothing rolled in. Even when Vernon’s picture leaked and the internet blew up over your coupling, his message bar still remained dry and lifeless.

He didn’t have any reason to text you anyway, so you wonder why you always looked forward to one.

You were the one to reach out first, letting him know that you had a date scheduled for Saturday night according to Vernon’s schedule. A meeting once per week was mandatory, just to keep up the image, and today’s plan was a nice, fancy dinner at a restaurant.

Chanhee, like a true gentleman, offered to pick you up instantly after you’d sent him the message, and you let yourself feel elated for five seconds before you texted him the time and place. You don’t know why Chanhee reduces you to a middle school girl longing for her crush, but you suppose it’s just because you haven’t been on a proper date in so long.

You’re dressed in blue satin, a dress you’d had no real reason to wear until today, and you’ve tried your best to clean up without Kevin’s help. You send a quick picture to your stylist as you wait, asking for advice even though you know you always look good, but Kevin just sends you a string of heart emojis in return and tells you that you look perfect.

Three sharp knocks on the door indicate Chanhee’s presence, and you open the door. The words on your throat die down when you realize he’s wearing a similar blue satin to yours, and it only takes one flicker of your eyes to meet his for him to start laughing.

“Are you stalking me or something?” he teases, pulling out a bouquet of fresh flowers.

“What’s this for?” you ask, setting them on the vase inside.

“Vernon told me to. He said you always like getting flowers on a date.”

You haven’t been on a date in years, so you don’t know where Vernon got this information from, but you appreciate the gesture nonetheless. The arrangement of peonies, lilies, and daffodils looks stunning on the countertop, and you post a quick picture to your Instagram story before heading out with Chanhee.

“Do you want the aux?” he asks when you’ve situated yourselves in his car.

The wind blows freely as he drives, the night sky twinkling through Chanhee’s open convertible. The rich red color of his Toyota Solara stands out against the deepness of the blackness around you two, but you can only focus on Chanhee’s side profile and the glittering earrings he’s wearing. Up until this point, you’ve only ever been in spaces you were familiar with. Seeing Chanhee in his own car is a completely different atmosphere for you, and you’re not sure how it makes you feel.

“I’m good. Play whatever you like,” you reply, truly interested to see what type of music he listens to.

Paris in the Rain drifts through the speakers, and you have to fight back a smile at the tune. Of course he would play this song on a night drive, judging by its mellow atmospheric feel, but you’re not mad about it.

“Why did you choose this restaurant?” he continues after the song settles, looking over at you when he pulls to a stop in front of a red light.

You have to recenter your thoughts to answer him, bringing your vision back from how ethereal he looks against the red tones of the stoplight.

“It’s been on my list for a while,” you admit honestly. “It’s also not super high scale, so someone will definitely notice us being there.”

Chanhee nods before quieting down as the red light fades into green. You’ve noticed that Chanhee tends to sit in silence when he’s with you, not interacting as much as he had with Vernon at the premiere. You wonder if he’s just naturally silent and hit it off with Vernon or maybe if he’s just hates you.

“Are you always this quiet?” you voice when he slows down due to traffic, not wanting him to feel alienated by the question.

“Ah, not really,” he says, scratching his head, “I just didn’t know if you were comfortable with me talking since we’re technically just coworkers.”

“Oh,” you voice, not expecting his admission.

You didn’t foresee him being so considerate of your feelings, enough to stop talking completely, and the thought warms your heart. Maybe he’s not such a bad person after all, you think, staring at him expectantly.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have admitted that,” he expresses. “I can go back to sitting in silence.”

“No!” you exclaim, and he looks over at you with slight alarm, “I mean, it’s fine. You talking is fine. You don’t need to restrict yourself from speaking just because we’re in a work setting. I don’t mind you talking.”

His shoulders relax as he steps on the gas, maneuvering through the gaps of the traffic that’s slowly clearing.

“That’s good,” he mutters, flicking on his blinker, “cause otherwise, this would’ve been a very awkward dinner date.”

You fight back a smile as he pulls up to the restaurant, and you don’t even have a chance to open your own door before he’s unlocking it for you. You thank him politely before walking inside, side by side with Chanhee. You follow the receptionist to your table once she gets your section cleared, and you’re offered complimentary chips and salsa as you wait for your food to arrive.

“You said this place was not ‘super high scale’?” Chanhee questions, looking around at the décor.

Okay, so maybe it is a little bit classy. The mediterranean themed restaurant has a cozy interior, and you’re currently sitting on wicker chairs by a huge glass window. The setting feels very exposed, as if you truly are sitting outside with the stars hanging over your heads. Subtle things about the place remind you that it’s elegant, such as the intricate menus and the tons of cutlery that sits next to you, but you hoped that it was something more comfortable for Chanhee to acclimate to.

“Why, is it too much?” you ask, picking up a chip.

“It’s not, but this is definitely fancy in my world.”

You smile, watching Chanhee be starstruck by his surroundings.

“Just because I’m famous now doesn’t mean I always was,” you start, “before I got my big break, my version of fancy was a dine-in restaurant.”

He laughs, relaxing a little.

“I didn’t know we were so similar. I just always assumed you were a nepo baby or something like that.”

“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I’m privileged. I worked hard to get here, you know.”

Chanhee nods as your waiter brings out your food, and the two of you immediately dig in. The appealing smells make your stomach hungrier than usual, and it takes a good few minutes for you to settle your appetite before you start conversing with Chanhee.

Now that the awkwardness is gone and that you have a simple understanding of each other, talking with him is easy. Putting aside all the hatred that’s spewed up these past few months, you find out that Chanhee is actually an amiable person, someone you could’ve seen yourself being friends with if you two weren’t so different. He shares stories about growing up and his family in exchange for yours, and you have to clutch your stomach in laughter when he slips in a joke that matches your taste exactly.

Being with Chanhee is natural, so much that you wish you had met him under different circumstances. In addition to being a friendly person, he’s also a gentleman, from the way he slips his card under the menu without you noticing (you definitely scolded him for it later) and opens the car door whenever you get in and out. As he walks you up to your apartment, you thank him honestly for tonight, regretting that your time together is already over for the day.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers suddenly when you’re outside your door. “I’ve written so much shit about you without being an honest judge of your character.”

“It’s okay, Chanhee. This is what you do for a living, I get it.”

“No, you deserve an apology. You’re an amazing actor and an even better human being. You didn’t deserve a single word I wrote about you.”

You’re not tipsy this time around, but you pull him into a hug anyway. This time, you actually mean it though, and you try to disregard the loss of warmth when he pulls away after a few moments.

“Thank you for tonight,” you murmur, stepping into your apartment. “See you next week.”

He smiles, and suddenly, the room is filled with sunshine.

“No, thank you. See you soon.”

You woke up the next morning with a text from Chanhee. The texts have not stopped coming in ever since you responded, as if you’ve opened the floodgates of interaction. You wish he’d texted you sooner, because even though he bombards you with everything in the world from funny memes to just crying about his day, you love returning the same energy.

Where are you rn, a text flies in, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

on set. wbu?

Driving to somewhere special!

oooh spill??

I’ll let you know after I get there

You frown, not so pleased with his secrecy. You hate secrets, and so does Chanhee, so why is he indulging in one right now?

You don’t have time to mull over it as your director calls you back over, ready to continue with the shot. Your costar Younghoon stands before you, smiling as his assistant fixes up his hair before clearing his throat.

“Ready for this scene? It’s a lot,” he comments, reading over the script one more time.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, watching for your director’s call.

The line starts rolling a few seconds later, and you immediately straighten your posture, preparing yourself for the scene.

“Hey,” you whisper, “what was so wrong about what I did?”

He laughs bitterly, pointing to the papers on the desk beside him.

“What was so wrong? You ruined my entire career!”

The papers fly around you as he wipes them off the desk in one sweep, and tears well up in your eyes once you look at his angry gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, clutching onto his arm, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen, I swear—”

“You didn’t know?” he asks, although it’s more of a statement, “you’re the editor for the goddamn newspaper! Of course you fucking knew this was going to happen!”

He rips his wrist from your fingers, inching away from you.

“It’s my job to write the news, darling. You have to understand—” you cry, dropping to the ground.

The papers shift around you, and you watch your tears drip onto the headlines.

“We’re done,” he utters, one final phrase before he rips off his ring, throwing it by your feet. “Never speak to me again.”

“And cut!” your director shouts, “good work guys. Take 30.”

Younghoon helps you up from the ground, and you whisper gratitude before brushing off your ankles. The wooden floor was uncomfortable to kneel on, but you’re grateful that it was only for a short period of time.

“Y/N!” you hear from the other end of the room, and you peek over Younghoon’s broad shoulders to see a familiar figure waving.

“Chanhee?” you gasp, walking over to him once he register his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprise?” he replies, giving you the bouqet of flowers he was holding. “I wanted to be a good boyfriend and surprise you on set.”

“Thank you,” you reply, grabbing the flowers from his hands before leaning in closer, “did Vernon put you up to this?”

“Um…” he starts, scratching the back of his head, “yeah, definitely. It’s the middle of the week, so why else would I be here?”

You roll your eyes, leaning back before you reach for his arm, squeezing it tightly.

“Thank you, regardless. No one’s ever visited me on set before like this. Even Vernon.”

“Really?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I thought you would have a lot of people around you like that.”

“I have acquaintances, but they’re all busy too. The most someone’s ever done for me is send me a food truck, and that was from my own mother.”

“Well, I’ll be here from now on, then.”

You feel a pang in your chest, and Chanhee must notice the shift in the atmosphere too because he clears his throat. You both know that this arrangement is already halfway over, so why do Chanhee’s words feel so comfortable, as if you both were in a regular relationship from the very beginning?

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Y/N? Is this the boyfriend?” Younghoon interrupts, walking up from behind with an outstretched arm. “Hey, I’m Younghoon, the costar. Nice to meet you, man.”

Chanhee smiles, plastering a smile to cover his previous frown before taking Younghoon’s hand in his, shaking it firmly.

“Nice to meet you too. Y/N’s been telling me about you, so it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Younghoon laughs, removing his hand from Chanhee’s grip.

“Yeah, it’s surreal working on this movie. It’s kinda funny how Chanhee’s a journalist because Y/N plays one in this movie too.”

Chanhee turns to you, surprised by this new piece of information. You’ve been pretty lowkey about the role, not wanting to tell anyone until the movie wrapped up filming, but Younghoon seems to trust Chanhee with the information because he’s your boyfriend.

“Really? I didn’t know.”

You nod in confirmation, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, we just finished up a heavy argument scene before you arrived. Wanna see the set?”

You and Younghoon parade Chanhee around, introducing him to other actors and cast on the set working diligently. Chanhee is in awe, starstruck by the unfamiliar environment and you can’t really blame him. The movie industry in and of itself is a dream, and witnessing it for the first time is probably exhilarating for him.

After your break wraps up, you lead Chanhee out, standing by the front of the garage. He still has stars in his eyes, and you have to nudge his shoulder twice before he pays attention to you.

“Sorry, I just… I wanted to be a director once, so seeing this all is kind of a dream come true.”

Your eyes widen. Whatever you were expecting to come out of his mouth was not even close to what he just said, and you’re still processing his words when you voice your confusion.

“Yeah, that’s how I learned writing and photography. I used to write screenplays and direct them, but I never made it big like I wanted to. Luckily, Sangyeon took me in when I was struggling, and that’s the only reason I have a job today.”

Suddenly, you know nothing about Chanhee. If events had played out a little differently, Chanhee could be standing right in front of you, not as a fake boyfriend but as a director. You wouldn’t be from two separate worlds anymore, and the thought is killing you.

“Do you still direct?” you ask uncertainly, unsure of what to even say after his confession.

“Nah, not anymore. I help my friends out with short films sometimes, but that’s about it.”

“If you ever want to get back into directing, I can help you out.”

Chanhee looks like his breath has been stolen away, staring at you dumbly.

“I don’t know if I can give you a position directly, but I can definitely link you up with fellow directors of mine and see if there are any film festivals looking for submissions.”

“Thank you,” he mutters hoarsely, “I don’t have an answer for you right now, but what you just said means the world to me.”

Chanhee does the unexpected, wrapping you in a hug this time around. It’s meaningful and tender, and he burrows himself into you as he clutches your shoulders tightly, never wanting to let go. The same shoulders that he once tried to pry your hands off are now encircling you, and you smile against his cheek.

“It’s no problem,” you voice honestly, pulling back to look at him. “I’m always here for you, just remember that.”

You told him the last date would be a little different, but seriously, Chanhee was not expecting a van.

You wave from the front seat, putting aside your phone as he scrambles into the front seat. Chanhee quirks an eyebrow at you, urging you to spill, and you take in a deep breath as you struggle to get the words out.

“So… um, you know how celebrity couples usually have pictures of them making out in their cars, right?”

Chanhee stares at you incredulously, and you grimace, biting your lip.

“I know it sounds bad, but it was Vernon’s idea, I promise! We just need to kiss a couple of times for the pictures, that’s it. It can’t be too bad, right?”

“Y/N,” Chanhee sighs, massaging his temples, “are you crazy? We haven’t even kissed once before this.”

“Well, now is a good time to start, right?” you ask sheepishly, “Look, Vernon paid some guys to photograph us, so they’ll be here any time now. Let’s just get this over with.”

Before he can even blink, you clamber over into his lap, resting your legs on either side of his and holding onto his shoulders. Chanhee gulps, too loudly for the silence that settles between you two, and he’s close enough to you that he can feel your heartbeat thumping wildly.

Good to know that you’re just as affected as him too.

You guide his arms around your waist, securing them tightly before looking back up at Chanhee. The last time he’s ever seen you this close is from when he saved you from falling, and somewhere in the depths of his heart, he admits to himself how much he actually missed it. The fluttering of your lashes, the indents of your mouth, and the sliver of your jawline are all something he wants to commit to memory, to burn into his mind before he loses you.

Chanhee would write a whole article just about your lips if he had to.

“Ready?” you ask, so close that he can feel your breath on his.

He nods, and before he can even lick his lips, you lean in, meeting him halfway with yours.

Chanhee feels like he’s in oblivion, completely succumbing to the darkness that you’ve slowly been feeding him with. You’re like poison, and as he slots his lips against yours, he can’t get enough. You’re killing him with the way you pull him in closer, imperceptibly close as if you two aren’t practically molded together already, and as Chanhee uses one of his arms to tilt your neck, you reciprocate with just as much fervor.

You pull back, catching your breath and your chest heaving, but it takes Chanhee only one glance at your swollen lips before pulling you back in again. He’s addicted to the way your tongue swipes across his entrance, the way you shiver as he gently tugs your bottom lip between your lips, and the way you clutch onto his hair as the two of you exchange life through your kisses.

“Just a couple, baby?” he whispers, pecking down the side of your face, “I can give you a lot more than that.”

He tugs your sleeve down as you whine, tilting your head to give him better access to the area. He nips and sucks at your collarbone, biting hard enough to bruise in spots that you’ll probably scold him for later. He wants them to be deep enough, red enough that you won’t even be able to cover them so the whole world will know you’re his, and he knows it’s well worth it with the way you groan as he keeps going.

“I wish could stay like this forever,” you gasp, preening away when he nips behind your earlobe. “I never want to let you go. My boyfriend. Mine. Forever.”

He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to your neck before he stops. You whimper, angry at him for pausing his ministrations, but as he processes your words, the hazy fog he was in moments prior fades away, and all that is left is the consequences of his actions.

“What’s wrong?” you ask when you realize he’s stopped completely.

Chanhee is shaking from underneath you, glassy-eyed, and his fingers tremble as he removes them from your body.

“Boyfriend,” he dumbly repeats, and you nod before realizing the mistake you made.

“Chanhee, I—”

“Get off me. Please.”

You stare at him incredulously, and when he doesn’t make any move to take back his words, you climb off him and into the seat next to you.

“This is all fake. Why do I keep forgetting that?”

He laughs bitterly, watching as your face morphs into a frown. How could he be so careless, to lose himself in you when this is all clearly just an act?

“Chanhee, I know this was planned, but the way I kissed you was definitely not fake.”

You sound hurt, and if he was in a better headspace, he would be calmer with his words, but the weight of what just happened is sinking down on him hard. Suddenly, he needs to leave, to never see you again and to not spend any more time in this stupid, suffocating van. He opens the door, climbing out before shutting it behind him firmly, breathing in heavily as he staggers away from the vehicle.

“Chanhee,” you cry, running up behind him and grabbing onto his wrist, “you don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand!”

“I like you,” you whisper, and suddenly, his whole world shatters.

“Of course you like me,” he laughs, running a hand over his face. “Do you not realize that you have an insane amount of privilege to be saying that? I can’t even like you in return because my career hinges on hating you! Don’t you get it, Y/N?”

You’re full on sobbing now, observing as he wrenches your hand away from his. Your fingers fall limply to your side and all you can do is watch as he walks away, shaking his head.

“Don’t contact me. I never want to see you again. Fuck you, for real, for playing with my feelings.”

You can only stare as the love of your life walks away, leaving your universe in shambles.

Unfortunately, just because you encountered the worst breakup of your life does not mean the world stops moving.

You’re at another after party, one that you’d been looking forward to for months because it would finally mean you’d get to catch up with some of your old costars. However, after the chaos that had befallen you earlier this week, going to some stupid nightclub was the last thing on your mind.

Really, you’re only here because Vernon is sick and tired of you wallowing in your misery. He thinks that you’ll be getting a change of scenery by being here, but the only thing you’ve been getting is shots filled with the strongest alcohol the bar can offer. Your one goal is to successfully forget about the black-haired man that ruined your life, and your plan is effective until the bartender stops you from getting another round and tells you to get some fresh air.

You grumble as you stumble out of the bar, finding a home on the gray sidewalk in front of it. Your sequined outfit digs into your skin as you sit down, but in your drunken stupor, you can’t find it within yourself to care. You’re lucky enough that this is a nicer venue, because there’s no one around to bother you to find another spot. It’s just you and your thoughts, and you can’t tell if that’s more dangerous or not.

Your first order of business is to pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent contacts. You have half a mind to call Vernon, to curse him out from condemning you to the hell that is this place, but instead your finger hovers over a familiar contact.

You are so going to hate yourself when you wake up.

The line rings, once, twice, thrice, and just as you’re about to cut the call, a voice answers from the other side.

“Y/N, it’s three in the morning. I thought I told you not to contact me,” Chanhee whispers groggily.

“Well too bad! You’re the one that said all that shit to me and left, so how unfair is it that I don’t get my turn?”

The line goes silent before Chanhee scoffs, and you can hear the bedsheets rustle around him as he gets up.

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, giggling from how similar this is to when you first met him.

“Where are you right now?”

“Outside a nightclub,” you sing, holding your phone out behind you so he can hear the EDM music from inside a little better.

“Send me your location.”

“Nope! I don’t owe you anything, you piece of shit!”

“Y/N, wait—”

You cut the call, laughing as Chanhee’s name disappears on your screen. He calls again, neverendingly, but you never once pick up, feeling glee from how he’s the one chasing after you now.

You play Candy Crush on your phone until a car screeches beside you, and you scoff as you recognize the familiar red Toyota Solara pulls up beside you. You’ve sobered up by now, but you still hate him just as much.

“Hell no,” you whisper, getting up as Chanhee steps out. You try to run, but the highness of your shoes make it hard for you to run properly, and you stumble as attempt to escape.

“Y/N, look, I’m just going to drop you off at home, okay?”

You stop in your tracks, turning around to see Chanhee behind you with his hands stuffed in his hoodie. You note the eyebags on his face and his chapped lips before speaking to him with a softer tone, grateful that even if he despised you, he didn’t make an attempt to grab onto your wrist and coerce you into something you didn’t want.

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me?” you ask, folding your arms over one another.

“I asked Vernon for your location. If you go missing, he’ll know it was my fault.”

You grumble, staring at him angrily before walking towards his car. He opens the door for you, but you stick your tongue out at him and find a spot in the backseat instead.

The ride is silent, but you feel him watching you through the rearview mirror as he drives. Usually, you don’t mind his silence, but now the stillness is bleak and uncomfortable, just like his presence near you.

“Why did you call me?” he asks, and it takes you a moment to register it because of how intensely you’d been ignoring him.

“I wanted to cuss you out.”

“Okay, so cuss me out then.”

You sigh, rubbing your temple.

“You know what your problem is, Chanhee? You’re self-centered. You think everything is about yourself, even down to our breakup. Who are you to even say things about my privilege when you know damn well how hard I worked to get here? Do you think I’m unaware how my feelings will affect your career? Hell, Chanhee, I literally told you I could help you find another job! I did so much for you to protect you, to support you, all for you to throw it away because you’re scared of the stupid future.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Let me finish. I love you for who you are. Even if we were destined to be opposites, I still found a way to fall in love with you. I was able to love you despite all that you have written about me in the past, so why can’t you love me for the person I am today?”

He pulls up to the front of your apartment, and you clamber out, not wanting to see his face anymore. The rain falls heavily as you step into the lobby, and Chanhee follows suit, shrugging the droplets off his jacket.

“Let me follow you up,” he asks.

You shake your head, but he trails you into the elevator anyway, watching as you press the button for your floor. He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not in the mood, putting up a palm in front of him.

“Save it. I said what I needed to say. I might be drunk but my words are true. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say in return.”

Despite your words, you let him into your apartment anyway, throwing a towel at him so he can dry off. He pats his hair dry, wiping his glasses against the fabric, and suddenly you’re reminded of how devilishly handsome he is. You shake your thoughts off, chalking it down to good taste in men before wiping down your neck.

The thunder booms outside, startling you as your towel falls to the ground. When you pick it up, Chanhee stares at you, an indiscernible expression on his face.

“Thanks for the towel. I better get going.”

He spins on his heel to leave as the storm crackles, and against your better judgement, you call out for him to stop.

“It’s storming outside. You can’t drive in this weather.”

“What are you suggesting?” he asks, turning back around to meet your gaze.

“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Chanhee laughs, as if your idea is so atrocious he can’t even fathom it.

“You’re funny. I’ll just drive home, don’t worry.”

“Chanhee, I’m being serious. I don’t want you to die, for god’s sake.”

Maybe he registered the concern in your voice because he exhales, contemplating in his head if this is a good idea or not. The loud thunderclap outside has him reconsidering, and soon enough, he shakes his head in agreement.

“Alright, but you have to sleep on the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Chanhee, I’m not fucking arguing with you. You know what? We can both take the bed if it makes you happy. A pillow between us should work.”

Before Chanhee can even respond, you’re walking into the bedroom, flicking on the light. You grab your pajamas from the closet and change in your bathroom, slipping into the sheets quickly once you’re done. Chanhee follows suit, taking the right side of the bed and placing a pillow between you two for added measure.

“Thank you,” he whispers after a few moments of silence. “I’ll be gone in the morning before you know it.”

“No need,” you grumble, shoving your face into the pillows, “just don’t roll over to my side, okay?”

He hums in agreement, and he watches as your eyes flutter shut.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You’re far too asleep to even respond.

You wake up to the sound of your head pounding in your ears. You grumble, shifting around before you open your eyes, expecting to see empty sheets, but instead you see a man with a very familiar face.

You as the events of last night rush back to you, and you hold yourself back from groaning as you recollect your thoughts. You should’ve just let him leave when he wanted to, but you didn’t, and now you have to deal with his beautiful bare face and his deep morning voice as if you haven’t fallen enough for him already.

You don’t register his eyes fluttering awake until he pokes your side. You shake, startled by his actions, and he tries to hold back a smile.

“Good morning. Sorry I overslept.”

“It’s okay. I won’t be nice enough to let you stay for breakfast though.”

“Wait,” he whispers, clutching onto your arm as you attempt to get out of the bed, “can I say something?”

You nod, and his arms falls back on the bed as he sits up, clearing his throat.

“You were right. I was selfish, and the words I said that day were extremely uncalled for. They were useless too, because if I had just expressed my feelings to you, we wouldn’t have needed to have this conversation now.”

You cock your head, confused at what he’s trying to imply. He takes in a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much that it hurts to breathe when I think of you. I love you so much that I’m willing to quit my career just to be by your side. I was scared then of ending up on the streets like I did in the past, but I was stupid enough to not trust your words when you said you would help me. I didn’t even like that job anyway, so I was an idiot for trying to fight for something I would eventually end up leaving myself.”

“Chanhee, you’re not—”

“No, I am stupid. And selfish. And self-centered. But I am also just Choi Chanhee, the Choi Chanhee who is irrevocably and utterly in love with you, and even though I can imagine a future where I won’t be working for Sangyeon, I cannot imagine a future without you by my side. I know you deserve better, but I’m begging you to just give me one chance to rectify my mistakes. We can take it slow and not rush things like we did in our four weeks. We can go on silly restaurant dates and I’ll practice getting used to the lights at red carpets. I’ll visit you on set every day with flowers and I’ll rent out five billion vans for us to make out in. I’ll do all this and even more because you deserve it, and because I love you. Will you please let me have one chance to make this fake relationship into a real one?”

You’re kissing him before he can even respond, letting him press you against the bed. He kisses you like he’s been starved, inhaling you and memorizing every inch of your presence as if you’ll let go of him again. Like before, you’re not restricted by the millions of voices against you and Chanhee, and as he lets himself go, you follow suit, dragging him down under until you’re writhing against him, begging for more.

“I love you,” he whispers when he kisses down your collarbone, “I love you,” he whispers when your clothes join the ground, “I love you,” he whispers when you shake against his fingers and mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time, cradling you gently as he becomes one with you. “I’ll never let you go. Never again.”

As you lay against him, bare skin to bare skin, you trace the tips of his hair as you smile. You don’t know what the future holds for you two, but there’s one thing you’re certain of as you press another kiss to his mouth.

"I love you. Even if the world caves in, it’ll be you that I lie with. Endlessly, until my last dying breath.”

This time around, you take things slow, not restricted anymore any more by four weeks, four months, not even four years. You have the entirety of your lifetime to spend with him, and you intend on using every single bit of it.

First, however, you let him make it up to you. Just because you bared your soul to him, figuratively and literally, after his apology doesn't mean you've completely forgiven him.

Chanhee doesn't disappoint though, reminding you every single day why he deserved the second chance you gave him. Once upon a time, he called you privileged, and that's exactly what you are now for having such a sweet boyfriend. One that doesn't leave the vase on your countertop empty by gifting you fresh flowers, one that always opens the door for you when he takes you on apology dates, one that sits with you in silence when you want to and one that chatters just as much as you do when you can't shut your mouth.

He visits you on set when he can despite his busy schedule as an assistant director. Surprisingly, you played no part in this, just the source of his determination when he finally decided to give the movie industry a chance again and bagged a job with none other than your close friend Juyeon. He surprises you for late-night drives and lets you have the aux even without you asking for it. He accompanies you to movie premieres despite hating the cameras and if you ever get asked questions that you don't particularly like, he'll glare at the reporters until they shoo away.

And god, the kisses. If the world counted kisses as an apology, Chanhee would be the CEO. Every slot of his lips against yours is like an unwritten confession from him to you, and every purse of his lips is a ballad from the depths of his heart. He kisses you for trivial things, like when you finally get that one specific line right as you're practicing for a script or when he's pecking you against the makeup trailer walls as he wishes you a successful day at work. He kisses you in the earliest of mornings, murmuring sweetness with his tongue against your hot skin, and he kisses you in the depths of the night, trailing his fingers down as you gasp against his mouth and exchange breaths through each swipe of his tongue.

Even after you do end up accepting his apology, he doesn't stop showering you with the affection you deserve. On nights you're feeling particularly insecure, Chanhee beats himself up and vows to never make you feel those emotions again, waking up the next morning to prove exactly why you're worth it. He takes care of you gently, the gentlest lover you've ever seen. He's the personification of a comfortable morning, the desire to stay in bed despite all the things you have going on. You never want to leave, forgetting all reason and staying in his embrace forever.

You're by his side when his first cinema blows up, when his first screenplay wins an award, when he gets his first nomination for directing, and today when he's on stage with an Academy Award in his hand and a smile you'll remember for ages.

You watch the twinkling in his eyes when he thanks his cast and crew, holding onto his assistant director tightly as he expresses his gratitude. What takes your breath away, however, is when he turns to you in the audience and whispers a confession that you'll never forget in your lifetime.

"And lastly, thank you, you know who you are, for being the best I could ever imagine. I will never regret the moment by the pond where you hugged me, the one that changed the trajectory of our lives forever. If anything, you deserve this award more than me. I love you, my Y/N."

You smile as the audience erupts in cheers, but as his assistant director hugs him on stage, his eyes only bore into yours.

"I love you too," you mouth back, watching as he grins when he recognizes your words.

"Forever and always."

#text #deoboyznet #dbn: holiday party #bluesia #chanhee #chanhee x reader #choi chanhee #tbz #tbz x reader #chanhee imagines #chanhee angst #chanhee scenarios #chanhee blurbs #choi chanhee angst #choi chanhee x reader #choi chanhee scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop #kpop angst #kpop fluff #the boyz #tbz fluff #tbz angst #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios

[whumpasaurus101]

I love UR WRITING! can u do henchman or sidekick whumpee x possessive villain whumper x posessive righthand whumper 2 (kinda like cruel sadistic yanderes) —whumpee caught trying to escape their mansion /whereever they live

GGAGGGHHH ANON YOURE THE SWEEETESSTTT <<33333 I LOVE THIS SM YES OFC!!!!

I'm sorry this isn't amazing but I couldn't get back to sleep so I whipped this up quickly HUIDJKHJDHDH

Cw: Knife wounds, held while hurt, yandere whumpers, mulitiple whumpers, creepy and possessive whumpers

“And just where might you be off to?” Villain’s voice cooed from behind Sidekick, a cold trickle sent down their spine as they shivered, “I uh-y-I…I swear I-”

“I-I-,” Villain mocked, taking a step closer, leading Sidekick to be pressed up against the door, “Darling,” Villain cooed, leaning in close as they tilted their head, “Do you not enjoy staying here?”

A sob caught in Whumpee’s throat as they tried to speak but they couldn't form any words. “What’s the matter, darling,” Right Hand crooned, raking their hand through Sidekick’s hair- who jumped, not noticing their advance on them. “Cat got your tongue?”

And suddenly, the gentle touch in their hair turned into an iron-tight grip as they tightened their fist, slamming Sidekick’s head against the door. Sidekick cried out, their hands flying up in an attempt to claw at Right Hand’s grip but there was no use. Villain nodded once at Right hand and took a step backwards;

“I know you think you belong to Hero, you think that’s who you belong to, but let me make one thing very clear,” Villain was practically shaking from anger, seething as they watched Sidekick begin to fight against Right Hand's grip. The sound of the switchblade opening made Sidekick freeze up.

“You don’t belong to anyone else but Right Hand and I. We own you, not Hero, not Civillain, not anyone,” Villain stepped closer, their knuckles white as they gripped the handle of the knife. “Nononono-”

Right Hand had managed to move behind Sidekick, pinning their back against their own chest as Villain advanced towards them. Sidekick cried out, tears streaming down their face as they thrashed against Right Hand, “NO-nonono ple-please ‘m so-sorry-” They sobbed, “I di-didn't mean- I-”

A sob erupted from their throat as the cold metal blade traced lightly along their ribs, the other froze, shivering and trembling as they squeezed their eyes shut. “Oh darling,” Right Hand cooed, playing with Sidekick’s hair, soaking in how they trembled, “We’re doing this for your own good.”

Sidekick jolted as the blade slashed once across their chest. Right Hand tightened their grip, “We’re doing this because we care about you,” They soothed, “You belong to us.” The knife next drew a long red line just below Sidekick’s collarbone, making the other yell through gritted teeth. 

Villain lightly traced the knife up along their collarbone, up up up their neck, smudging a glistening red streak along their skin from their previous wounds. The knife stopped just under their chin, forcing their head up. Sidekick shook with a sob but slowly blinked their eyes open, a tear immediately falling as their eyes met with Villain’s.

“You belong with us,” They whispered, their voice making Sidekick shiver, a whimper escaping their throat.

“You belong to us and only us. Sidekick-” They slowly tucked a short curl behind Sidekick’s ear and Villain smiled gently, “We are the ones for you. You're made to be with us. We would do anything for you.”

Sidekick slowly cringed back into Right hand but they nodded.

Villain gently brought their hand against the cut along Sidekick’s collarbone. Sidekick bit their lip, holding in a cry as Villain slowly leant in and spoke quietly, “Who do you belong to, dove?”

Sidekick whimpered, tears streaming down their face as they rasped out but eventually spoked, “Y-you guys- o-only you guys.” 

Villain’s eyes sparkled with delight and Right Hand smiled, gently massaging Sidekick’s scalp, “Oh, well done, Honey, we’re so proud of you.” Sidekick sobbed as all they could do was lean into the soft, gentle touches. Villain pocketed the knife quickly and cupped Sidekick’s face gently, their thumb brushing along their cheekbone, “I know it's hard, I know, dove. But here with us is where you belong, with us.” Sidekick wanted to fight, everything in them told them to resist. But this is where they belonged.

With them.

#TYSM ANON EEEEEE #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #possessive whumper #sidekick whumpee #villain whumper #right hand whumper #right hand #villain #sidekick #hxv #hero and villain #sidkick x villain #villain x sidekick #sidekick whumpee x villlain whumper #yandere whump #yandere whumper #yandere villain #whump #whump drabble #whumpee #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #lee wrote something :o #asks my beloved #theres fleas everywhere in this house i cant wait to be home hGUIHDUIDHD

[yawnzzznnn]

★Unlikely Couple - Sohee★

★Special thanks to: @/drippymap

★Note: writing  this in advanced so don't be confused by the date lmfao also thank you for requesting I hope you enjoy I was waiting for someone to request for him-

★Taglist: @eumppappasgrippers

★Words: 795

★TW: I might refer to reader as a girl : cliché love story : cringe : like 1(one) curse word :

8-20/27-23

©Yawnzzznnn don't steal or copy my work

Unlikely couple is what everyone calls you and Sohee rightfully so. You two had met when you were the new kid in school, no friends since you had just moved to Korea everyone kinda ignored you having there own clicks, everyone except one(1) person and that person being Lee Sohee.

He saw you sitting at your desk playing with whatever eraser dust that was sitting there all alone, he walked up to you and introduced himself encouraging you to do the same, all throughout the week he'd come up and try to incage in a conversation with you, even tho you don't say much

"good morning y/n!" He said as he skipped over to your desk "why do you have so much energy at 6 in the morning" you mumbled causing Sohee to tilt his head to the side A small pout rested on his lips "because someone has to put a good mood in the classroom before hell starts" he said a smile growing back on his face you nodded your head slightly to tired to respond properly "are you sleepy? Did you go to bed late again" he asked crouching so he came face to face with you

"Yeah I did" you said quietly burying your head in your arms you heard Sohee let out a small groan before he grabbed your arms and lifted you off the desk causing you to look up at him with wide eyes "your gonna hurt your back sleeping like that" he said before taking your seat and putting you on his lap "Sohee were in school we can't do this" you whisper yelled trying to get up

"I don't care the teacher isn't here so it's fine now take your nap" he said guiding your head in the crook of his neck, you sighed in defeat knowing he isn't going to give up that easy so instead of arguing you opted for taking a nap. Sohee rubbed your back and slightly swayed you while humming a random song he heard on the way to school an hour or so later the teacher came in "Yn" Sohee shook you "wake up the teachers here" he said in your ear

You whined and snuggled closer to him "Lee Sohee" the teacher called out "may I ask what you and l/n y/n are doing?" The teacher said in a stern tone "oh she was tired so I let her take a nap Im trying to wake her up" he said as he patted your back the teacher nodded "hurry up we don't have all day" the teacher said before turning to face to board

Sohee sighed before shaking you again "Yn" he said again, he sat back before a thought came to mind "Mr." Sohee called out the teacher turned around "may I take Yn to the nurses she didn't sleep last night" he explained hoping to sway the teacher. The teacher sighed before speaking "fine but next time make sure they sleep" the teacher said after the confirmation Sohee stood up holding you from under your thighs and carried you to the nurses

Once he got there he explained what the situation was luckily she accepted and let Sohee put you on the bed, hesitantly Sohee left back to class the nurse assured to watch after you. You woke up around an hour later "good morning Mr/Ms. L/n" the nurse said, she let you wake up fully before you left the nurses the bell rang signaling your next class

"Sohee!" You semi yelled out seeing him Infront of the classroom "what are you doing" you asked once you got face to face with him "well I was waiting for you I wasn't sure when you'd wake up so I decided to stand Infront of the door before every class" he explained kicking some of the dirt from the floor, your cheeks flushed as your heart rate picked up "oh-" was all you said

"Come on, before we miss class" he said grabbing your hand and leading you in. The rest of the day was boring and pretty Usual Sohee speaking up in class when you got too nervous and you napping on your desk during the last class and when you got home Sohee ordered food for the two of you before y'all spent the rest of the day watching movies.

#x reader #riize sohee #sohee riize #sohee x reader #sohee one shots #sohee #riize x you #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize one shots #riize scenarios #riize sohee x reader #high school au

[mywifealhaitham]

HAIII

can you do kissing or general dating headcannons for Harold and Noah separately?

Tysm for your time :)

◟✶◝ harold & noah dating + kissing headcanons (separate)

◟a/n◝ hooray my first total drama request... sorry that harolds seems shorter than noahs I didn't really know what to write for him... I still hope u enjoy!!

• Harold is so sweet as a boyfriend, a bit cringe to the point you wanna pick him up and throw him into a lake, buy very sweet nonetheless...

• he tries his best to impress you with his awesome skills which include either rapping or some type of martial arts... but you can clearly see how much effort he puts into his hobbies and how confident he looks while doing it so you half-fake swoon for him when he sees you he'll have the biggest smile on his nerdy face

• as for your first kiss with him it was awkward to say the least. you both were hanging out probably either watching some kind of show or playing video games when you two got gradually closer to eachother until both of you were reallyyy close. you don't notice until after awhile and that's when it gets awkward. Harold notices it too and of course says something a bit corny like "I can stare into your eyes all day" or something. after he says that you giggle and proceed to grab his cheeks and kiss him all over his face turning him red and flustered in the process

• honestly lives for that type of attention I mean pretty much everyone else he's met in his life have been jerks to him so let him bathe in your love for a bit

• like Harold, Noah is also a sweet boyfriend just alot less cringe and a bit more mean... his love language is practically just teasing you and being sarcastic alot. of course he never fully means his mean and snarky remarks, don't worry its all out of love!

• though we know that he can get down bad for someone and that probably happened when he first started liking you. if you both were in total drama he'd probably help you with challenges or fall behind to stay with you whether you two are on the same team or not.

• his kisses are probably a bit more frequent than Harold's but still very few since he prefers practically anything else then face sucking. when you two had your first kiss it was during a little "argument", which was basically just back and forth teasing, and also like Harold's was awkward for a bit. it started off with you two throwing around insults and slowly moving closer until Noah gets the most genius idea he's had in a while. he spits out a "oohhh you wanna kiss me so bad" and still full of adrenaline from the remarks he's previously made you quickly respond with a "yeah. so what?". let's just say that shut the both of you up really fast.

• after a few moments of silence you whisper a quiet "... wanna do it" in which he responds with a awkward nod which he might regret later. when you too actually kiss its stiff but still good and could probably satisfy him for about a year. (afterwards you two kinda ran off out of embarrassment and he immediately got home and started giggling and screaming into his pillow)

• overall still a sweet boyfriend but beware he will get on ur nerves, it's apart of the Noah package.

#total drama #total drama x reader #td noah #td harold #td Noah x reader #td Harold x reader #noah x reader #Harold x reader #kiana☆posts

[lichenes]

omg i LOVED ur perdrix fic! would love to see more with that man 💖💖

Thank you for the ask and I'm glad you enjoyed it anon!!

I'm always here to write for himmm. He has charmed me with his inability to be treated seriously by anyone. I adore this guy with my whole heart. I had this idea where he's awkward around others but flirty with you.

Pierre Perdrix x fem!reader

CW: confession, awkward Pierre, mentions of sex (nothing explicit tho), kinda spoilers for "Perdrix", SFW

wc: 611

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Pierre was sitting in front of the precinct, smoking a cigarette and attempting to make small talk with his colleague. "The weather is nice today." He engaged. "We haven't had rain in a while no?" The officer mused. He zoned out thinking about how he'd rather be at home with his family. He visibly cringed at the thought when-

"Pierre!!" You shouted out waving at him. He straightened his posture. "Oh," he said anxiously. "It's... you." You entered his line of vision sporting a pretty comfortable and relaxed look. "I'll leave you two to it, lovebirds." Said the officer whose name you didn't quite rember. "We're not..." he attempted to say.

He relaxed after the guy walked away and looked your way, noticing the way your, he presumed, new lipgloss was making your lips look more kissable than ever. Policeman's eye he supposed. "Well well well, look who isn't working." You said with a twinge of joke in your voice. He smiled at your attempt at flustering him.

"Weren't you supposed to look for a stolen car officer Perdrix?" You teased referencing his previous fiasco-affair with Juliette. You were there to experience all of the fallings in love and subsequent break ups he had with his past partners. You were there to help him through all of it. He remained oblivious through all your courting endeavours.

He always wasn't looking for anything serious or deciding he would remain single, conveniently exactly at the times you were planning on confessing to him. Once, you got more than intoxicated and subsequently hooked up with him confessing your love to him - mid thrust might I add. He claimed to not remember a single moment from the night before and apologised for leading you on.

How you stayed friends this long without you going insane was an enigma to the ones around you. Pierre was always unsure of his feelings towards you or rather, he knew exactly what they were - he was just denying them. He remembered every second of your inebriated lovemaking. In fact, he couldn't stop thinking about it ever since it happened.

He was sure you weren't interested and thought that your love confessions were fueled by alcohol alone. "You always call me officer, why is that?" Pierre asked cocking his head to the side and stubbing out his cigarette.

You looked like a deer caught in headlights when he asked you that question. "W-well uh..." you stammered. "Yeah?" He got closer to you and leaned downwards to be at your level. "Why is that?" He lowered his voice almost to a whisper and burst out laughing straightening his posture once again.

"Ughh..." you hid your face in your palms as he continued giggling. "Pierre I asked you to stop." "Stop what?" He questioned. It was now your turn to lower your voice. "To stop giving me ideas." He paused his chuckles at that.

"I told you time and time again, don't... don't give me hope." You looked him in the eye not afraid to face him with visible sadness behind your retinas. "Funny you mention that..." he retreated into his awkward self.

You were sitting on his sofa. "Remember when I let myself get hit by a car for her..." You nodded. "I'd do something even crazier for you." You snorted. "Crazier than being hit by a car? Voluntarily?" So all this time... he... he did love you? "Why did you get in all those flings then?" He shook his head. "Do you not understand why they never lasted?"

"It was you." He scooted over to you. Taking a hold of your trembling hands. "It has always been you."

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masterlist

#pierre perdrix x reader #x reader #pierre perdrix #perdrix #swann arlaud #the bare necessity

[gothicxreylover]

𝖄𝔞𝖓𝔡𝖊𝔯𝖊 𝕬𝔱𝖘𝔲𝖘𝔥𝖎

Warning ⚠️- This contains Gore, blood, mentions of someone being ripped apart, kidnapping, talks about sexual punishments or just sex in general, Yandere, obsession, delusional Atsushi (?)

This is kinda rushed and sorry if anything doesn't make sense!

I hope you enjoy it!

🦇

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Atsushi has never gotten affection as a child or was shown appreciation at all. It's not a surprise that he's very affectionate with you. Giving you something he never had before in his childhood. His affection would range from giving you intense affection, gift giving you small gifts such as jewelry or plushies, and acts of service.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

It depends. Atsushi doesn't condom violence that much and tries to not get in a violent situation. But I'm not trying to make Atsushi look like an innocent angel as he would get violent if something ever happened to you. For example, you getting kidnapped by someone in the Port Mafia.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He wouldn't mock you. He could never do that but sometimes you do get on his nerves. Your constant complaining to go home just gets him annoyed knowing you don't have the desire to be with him at all. I do so that he would mock or sarcastically talk back to you when he has enough of your attitude.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Atsushi wouldn't do anything against your will. He respects your boundaries and wishes but when his day is really bad he might just overstep that boundary.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

It depends on how in love he is with you. If his obsession just started he wouldn't show that much vulnerability towards you. As his obsession grows he does become slightly vulnerable and he lets his guard down as his obsession gets more intense towards you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

It can go two ways. Atsushi would feel hurt and would mostly likely try to convince you that it's part of your safety and your good. He tells you that he doesn't want anything to happen to you as there are many people after him and he's afraid that they'll go for you too.

But, If Atsushi is over your attitude he just might snap and tell you to suck it up and get over the situation. It's not a secret that Atsushi is a bit sassy and snappy but he's also over with your behavior. He doesn't want to keep telling you that same reason over and over again and just wants you to get used to your new life.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He doesn't enjoy it. He doesn't see it as a game when you try to escape because doesn't want anything to happen to you. He would panic and try to keep you inside telling you "You don't want this." Or "You're not thinking straight and it's just something that your mind doesn't know what's best for you."

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Atsushi almost lost his mind. You had escaped the house and you were running down Yokohama trying to get away as best as possible. As you were some bad people walked your way and you know the rest of what happened. As you were getting hurt by them (or jumped for easier terms) Atsushi found you and saw the people who were hiring you. Of course, Atsushi doesn't like to be violent but them hurting you was crossing the line. (Cringing as I write this) As you were on the floor hurt and bleeding trying to cover yourself in a fetal position you could he screams and yelling. You kept your eyes open as you felt blood going onto your body shaking as you were scared. You made the mistake of opening your eyes to see Atsushi ripping a person apart. You were scared and kept your eyes closed as you cried in fear. You thought Atsushi was lost in his mind thinking he was going to kill you next. Your thoughts were snapped when you felt tiger paws wrapping around you and Atsushi lying next to you. He nuzzled his head into your neck and muttered sweet nothings into your ear.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Just a plain simple one. He wants to get married to you and be loved all his life. He wants a happy life where he can come home into your arms and she smothered with kisses by you. He wants to come home to a child running up to him hugging him and telling him that they missed him so much. He wants a life where he can be happy and have something he never had before.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

I wouldn't say he'll get jealous a lot but he would. It depends on who your talking to and if it's someone he knows. If it's someone he knows and has a good relationship with them he's not that insecure and jealous. But if it was someone he doesn't know then he gets a bit jealous. Maybe a bit insecure but it would be fine if you show him some love.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's very sweet and lovesick towards you. He'll be attached to you like a little kid wanting your love and attention on him and not some non-living object.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He is pretty nervous when he meets you. He's new to the feeling of love so he doesn't know what's wrong with him. Dazai would have to give him a talk about love and relationships and soon that would lead into Dazai making jokes about sex. Which Atsushi would probably not listen too and try to get Dazai to talk about something else.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He acts pretty much the same. He doesn't show his obsessiveness in public but it's kinda noticeable. It's noticeable enough for Dazai and Ranpo to know what's going on. But yet Dazai just wants Atsushi happy and Ranpo couldn't care less.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Atsushi feels bad for punishing you so he'll ignore you and probably neglect your basic needs like food and water. It only lasts for a couple of hours but sometimes it can go on for days. He feels really bad afterward and would smother you in kisses and hugs. I don't see Atsushi doing any sexual punishments but maybe he'll overstimulate you during sex or with toys.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Freedom. (I have nothing for this ngl)

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Pretty patient. He only snaps if he's fed up with your behavior or if he has a lot to deal with at work or in life.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die he'll be depressed. He believes that no one could replace you and he has nothing to live for anymore. He might even kill himself just to be with you. If you leave he'll find you. It would take him long but he'll find you and he'll make sure you won't leave.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He does feel guilty about it. He would always stop what he was doing and ask himself if what he was doing was right. But would shut his thoughts down after he convinced himself that it was for the best.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Being abandoned and abused his whole life. No one ever told him he was loved or showed affection towards him. He just wants to be loved and be with someone forever who he trusts. He hates being alone and he hates thinking that he'll end up alone with no one on his side.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He hates it. He doesn't want you to cry, scream, or isolate with him. He wants you to be happy and safe so why can't he have that if you keep pushing him away and trying to leave?

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Being a weretiger. And there's a slight chance he could be redeemed and you can take him to therapy for his unhealthy behavior.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit to escape?

I guess affection. Show appreciation towards him and he slightly lets his guard down.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

It depends. He would probably hurt you if you were fighting against him. I could imagine that Atsushi would drag you back to the house after you had successfully escaped without him knowing. You kept throwing around as he carried you and he snapped. He didn't think twice and threw you on the floor and yelled at you. It took him a few seconds to realize what he did and he would apologize and cry.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He does worship you a lot maybe too much for your liking. He can't help it he loves you too much. He has to express his love or he'll just get more obsessed. He does like to be praised too so it would take him off guard when he hears you praising him for the first time.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It takes him to snap. He would probably like to get to know you first becoming your friend before trying to make hints to you that he likes you. Even Dazai tries to get you to notice that he likes you. But if you are that oblivious towards his hints he would probably become a bit more obsessive and probably kidnap you within 6-7 months.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No! He would never forgive himself if he ever did. He would probably be depressed himself if he couldn't find a way to make you go back to normal. He would try everything to make you feel happy. If you're not happy he's not happy.

#gothicxreylover #bungou stray dogs #gender neutral reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai osamu #yandere atsushi x reader #yandere atsushi #atsushi headcanons #atsushi x reader #atsushi nakajima #atsushi smut #bsd atsushi