#// this turned from a reply to a discord friend

[rafeskai]

Game On | Gamer!Rafe Cameron x Gamer!Reader

Leveling Up

Summary: After your first game of Call of Duty with Rafe, what began as a casual gaming session quickly turned into a growing friendship. Rafe’s support and encouragement not only helped you improve but also gave you the confidence to explore a new world of gaming. When he introduced you to his squad, you found a place where you truly belonged, forming bonds with the group and deepening your connection with Rafe.

Pairings: gamer!reader & gamer!rafe

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: Another random 'chapter' to this AU

The next day, you sat down at your console, still buzzing from your game with Rafe the night before. It was your first time playing Call of Duty, and you had to admit—having Rafe guide you through it had made all the difference. You didn’t expect much out of gaming, but somehow, it had turned into something more.

As you scrolled through your friend requests, you spotted a notification: killshotking had added you. You smiled, your heart skipping a beat. You had a feeling he might, but seeing it pop up made it real. You quickly accepted the request.

Almost immediately, a message popped up from him.

killshotking: “Yo, it’s Rafe. You on? Want to play again?”

You hesitated only for a second before typing back.

angelhunter201: “Definitely. You up for a rematch?”

A few seconds later, he replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

killshotking: “Let’s do it. I’ll invite you to the party.”

The sound of an invite popped up, and you joined the party chat, ready for round two. As the game loaded, Rafe's voice came through your headset, smooth as ever.

“Ready to kick some ass today?” he asked, his voice playful but with that underlying competitive tone.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, your fingers gripping the controller with a little more confidence than before.

The match began, and this time, you were on your own a bit more, but Rafe still guided you when needed. There was something comforting about his voice, a mix of experience and encouragement that helped ease your nerves.

“Good job on the flank,” he praised after you took out an enemy trying to sneak behind your team. “You’re getting the hang of it fast.”

You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks, even though he couldn’t see it. “Thanks. I think I’m finally starting to understand the map a bit.”

The game flowed better this time, and you were making plays you hadn’t thought you could. Between the gameplay, you started talking more—asking Rafe how long he’d been playing, what other games he liked, and just getting to know him. You were still figuring out how to talk to him without sounding like a total noob, but Rafe seemed easygoing, never making you feel less-than.

“So, you’re pretty good at this,” you said between rounds, still not fully used to talking while playing. “How long have you been playing?”

“Been at it a while,” he replied casually. “Started when I was a teenager. It’s just kind of stuck with me.” He chuckled. “Kinda like a second job, but more fun.”

“You must be really good then. I’m still just trying to get the hang of everything.” You laughed lightly, not wanting to make it sound like you were fishing for compliments, but Rafe took it in stride.

“Hey, you’re killing it already,” he reassured you. “You might not realize it yet, but you’re picking it up fast. You should see the people I started with—no offense to them, but they weren’t as quick as you.”

You felt a rush of pride at his words. It was easy to get lost in the game, to forget how new you were when Rafe made you feel like a natural.

As the match wrapped up—another win for your team—you noticed that you weren’t just feeling good about the game. The conversations between rounds, the joking back and forth, had been... fun. You found yourself smiling more than you had in a while.

“So, uh…” You hesitated a little, not sure how to make the transition, but you figured it was worth a shot. “Do you have Discord? I was thinking it might be easier to chat there.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. You were starting to regret asking when Rafe’s voice came through, casual and a little surprised.

“Yeah, I do. That’s actually a great idea. It’d be easier than the in-game chat.” He sounded like he was already pulling up his app. “I’ll send you my handle.”

He quickly sent over his Discord username, and you added him right away. The second he accepted, the familiar ping of a new message appeared.

killshotking: “Yo, you good to play again soon?”

You quickly typed back, excited at the thought of playing with him again, but also eager to chat more outside the game.

angelhunter201: “I’m down. I’ve got some free time today if you want to team up again.”

The conversation flowed easily in Discord, and for the first time, you felt like you were building something more than just a gaming partnership. Rafe wasn’t just a player to you; there was something about him that made the whole experience feel different. He was kind, laid-back, but also competitive—exactly the kind of person you could enjoy spending time with, whether it was playing or just talking.

The next few hours passed in a blur, more games, more conversation, and as you logged off for the night, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just started something new.

You’d gone from a nervous newbie to someone who was excited to game again with someone who wasn’t just a teammate but maybe even a new friend... or something more.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next couple of weeks felt like a blur, but in the best way possible. You and Rafe had quickly settled into a rhythm of gaming together. What started as a casual invite to play Call of Duty turned into nightly gaming sessions, each one filled with laughs, playful banter, and some surprisingly deep conversations in between rounds.

You had learned so much from him—not just about the game but about life in general. Rafe had a laid-back attitude, but there was an undercurrent of determination in everything he did, whether it was playing a match or talking about his goals outside of gaming. It was that same energy that made you keep coming back, eager to talk to him and team up again.

One evening, as you logged in for another session, Rafe had a surprise for you.

"Hey, got a minute before we queue up?" he asked, his voice casual but with a hint of excitement.

"Yeah, what's up?" you replied, adjusting your headset.

"So, my boys are on tonight. Figured I’d invite you to squad up with us." He paused, adding, "I think you're ready to hang with the crew."

You hesitated for a moment. It was one thing to game with Rafe, but meeting his friends—especially if they were anything like him—was a whole different level. You hadn’t expected to be introduced to anyone else, but it seemed like Rafe trusted you enough to bring you into his circle.

"Uh… sure, why not?" you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "I’m down."

"Sweet," Rafe responded with a grin you could practically hear through the mic. "It’s gonna be fun. Just hang tight."

Within a minute, you were in a party chat with Rafe and three other people. You could hear them laughing and chatting already, their voices blending into one cohesive, casual atmosphere.

"Alright, guys," Rafe spoke up, and the chatter quieted down a bit. "This is (Y/N). She’s been playing with me for a while now, and I think she can hold her own. (Y/N), this is Topper, Kelce, and JJ."

“Yo, welcome!” Topper’s voice came through loud and friendly. "Glad to have another one in the squad."

"Hey, hey," JJ added, a bit more laid-back but still welcoming. "Don’t worry, we go easy on the newbies. For the most part."

Kelce’s voice followed, quieter but still friendly. "Glad to meet you. Let’s see what you’ve got."

You smiled to yourself, feeling instantly at ease with their friendly, easygoing banter. Rafe had definitely picked a good group of people to hang out with. You quickly introduced yourself, and the group dove right into the match.

As the game progressed, you found yourself getting comfortable with the group dynamic. JJ’s dry humor kept everyone laughing between rounds, while Kelce was surprisingly tactical, always offering suggestions on strategy. Topper was the most competitive, always pushing everyone to play harder, but you could tell he respected the effort each person put in. And Rafe—well, Rafe was still your go-to teammate, always ready to guide you and make sure you felt included.

It wasn’t long before you had your own little moments with each of them. You had a blast joking with JJ, asking Kelce for tips on how to play smarter, and even getting a competitive streak going with Topper. But the best part? You felt like you were becoming one of the boys—like you’d found your place in this tight-knit group. Rafe had made sure of that, introducing you as a real member of the squad and not just a tagalong.

That night, after an especially intense match where your team pulled off a clutch win, Rafe messaged you on Discord.

killshotking: "See? Told you they’d like you. You fit right in with the crew."

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

angelhunter201: "Honestly, I didn’t expect to get along so well with everyone. You guys are great."

angelhunter201: "Yeah, we’re a good bunch. And you’re holding your own out there, so that makes you one of us for sure."

You felt a little burst of pride at that. It felt good to be accepted, not just as a gamer but as part of a team—part of Rafe’s circle.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of late-night gaming sessions. You had started to improve drastically, and the more you played with Rafe and his friends, the more you started to feel like you truly belonged in their group. It wasn’t just about the game anymore—it was about the camaraderie, the inside jokes, and the way Rafe always had your back.

As you spent more time with them, you couldn’t deny that something had shifted. Your connection with Rafe had grown deeper. There were those little moments during gameplay where you’d catch him looking out for you, giving you an extra boost of confidence or a tip to help you improve. You weren’t sure if it was just the way he was, or if there was something more there, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced when he smiled or the way your stomach fluttered when he complimented you on a play.

One evening, as the game wrapped up and the team started to log off, you stayed behind, wanting to talk to Rafe.

“Hey,” you started, feeling a bit nervous. “You, uh… you’ve been really cool to me. I just wanted to say thanks for introducing me to the crew. It’s been a blast.”

Rafe chuckled, his voice warm and easy. “Of course, (Y/N). You fit in with us. You’ve earned your spot, no question.”

You felt that familiar flutter again, but you brushed it off. “I guess I’ve still got a lot to learn, huh?”

“Don’t worry,” Rafe said, his tone softening. “We’re all learning. Just having fun along the way.”

You smiled, but this time, it wasn’t just about the game.

The connection between you and Rafe was becoming undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it might look like outside of the game, in the real world. But for now, you were content—content with your spot in the group, and more importantly, content with the way you and Rafe had begun to level up, both in the game and in getting to know each other.

© 2025 rafeskai | All rights reserved. My work is a work of fiction inspired by different characters, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[stardrop-sims]

so, why did I delete my old blog? The short answer is I banned yin-shimo/tianshi88 from my now defunct occult simblr server and his friends proceeded to spin a narrative on tumblr that was false. In the moment it was not worth it to me fight back, but I am back and I am fighting for what I think is right–sharing what happened and why we chose to ban him in the first place. 

If you want the full details, I am going to lay it out under the cut but bare with me, I have never had to defend myself like this, and never thought I would. You can view this as drama or whatever, idc. I just want to say my peace and not have to think nor talk about this ever again.

Also, do not harass the mods if you know who they were. Do not harass anyone shown in the screenshots, they are only shown here for transparency sake. 

cw: homophobic rhetoric, harassment, sexualization of a minor mention

A few months ago I made the occult simblr, baby! discord server. It was public so anyone could join and there was no way for me to guess how many people would end up joining! (Almost 80!) I am thankful for the learning experience but it ended on a sour note. 

One of the users who joined goes by tianshi88/yin-shimo, a known cc creator in occult simmer circles, but to be frank, I was completely unaware of this person until yin-shimo joined my server and occasionally talked.

Some time goes by, and one of the mods suggests we create a server blog to reblog our users’ content! I say yes. It was a good idea, but an anonymous ask came in (screenshot below). This is where things go south. I made the call to reply publicly, which I regret, but only because a few people made it way more trouble than what it was worth.

So let's talk about the claims and what we (the mod team at the time and myself) found out—the initial post by yooniesim (link to his post about it, which he gave me permission to link here!) The allegation is about sexualization of a fictionalized minor in the anime/manga Blue Lock. Yin-shimo himself claims this pose is done by the character in the media itself. The character in question is a teenager. I hate that I am explaining this here but ahegao is essentially a sexual pose from hentai (anime porn). It is my opinion that media portrayal of this kind of thing is weird at best, dangerous at worst. The fact that it is a reference to it is a problem in of itself, but ultimately we decided this behavior was weird (as well as his actions following the initial callout about it) and it was best to remove him from the server and we made a brief statement in the server given the circumstances surrounding it. I do not have the screenshot for this server announcement nor our reply, but nowhere did in the original ask nor in the replies we made as mods, did anyone call him a pedophile. We stated “sexualized a fictional character” because that’s what it was. 

However, worth noting there are other things he has done, which imo are worse than what I am detailing here, as referenced in Yoonie’s linked post, that added to the decision to ban him, which can be triggering to read about, so fair warning! 

The next day I considered deleting the ask of the blog to not create drama out of something serious, but I didn't before I received a reply from puppycheesecake.

I do not have the screenshot but they essentially accused us of framing him as a pedophile–this is where I became aware of yin-shimo’s sexuality/pronouns for the first time and said we were participating in a witch hunt of a gay man started by “one person” ( the anon).

My response was to delete the ask and block them. I would have responded and told them to stop lying, because that’s what they were doing. But as a queer person, being accused of that triggered me on top of everything else so I deleted the ask and the mods and I made the decision to make a second statement to tie up loose ends in the server.  We turned off anon asks on that blog, and the day after i decide to take a break, what happens?

This reblog of a shitpost on my personal blog, on a post in which I  am talking about how much I love simblr shows up in my notifications—

That was the moment I was done. You’re not going to come onto my blog with lies and try to spin a narrative when it’s very clear you are more interested in protecting your friend than what is true.

most of the mods, including me, are trans/queer, so fuck off with that “gay man is a pedophile” narrative that you’re weaponizing. 

I didn't know yin-shimo’s pronouns nor sexuality, nor did it come up when the mods and I made the decision to ban him from the server.

This behavior is childish–something like this should have never happened in an 18+ server, nor should this have turned into drama, and yet here we are. 

As for “only one person” (as referenced by puppycheesecake)—once we made the call to ban him, several people came forward to tell us his presence made them uncomfortable in the server, so I think we made the right decision in the end. 

Ultimately, yin-shimo is upset he has to face consequences for his own actions and used his friends—neither of which were in the server—to do his dirty work. 

I regret answering the question publicly but I am not sorry for banning him, nor will I apologize for what we did not do–which is what is alleged in what context I have provided. I am going to reiterate that not once did the mods call him a pedophile. 

To everyone else, it is up to you how you want to curate your online space and who you want to interact with. I am not making that decision for you, but hopefully this clears things up.

[de11amorte]

I have “inner demons” quest thoughts, spoilers under cut;

so the inside of lucanis’s head where it’s a literal piece of the ossuary that’s left behind in him. Hes scarred from the experience of forced possession. Hence why Spite thought they were still imprisoned and wanted desperately for freedom.

And Lucanis is now imprisoning Spite and himself as a method to keep his inner demon in check.

He has these three prison guards that are manifestations of his inner turmoil. Opinions formed from his presumed perspective of those around him.

This is Lucanis still being the narrator of their dialogue—because certain phrases that are said come from a place of self-loathing or criticism.

He assumes his grandmother would be disappointed in having an afflicted grandchild who would let himself be taken by surprise and ultimately fail his original contract. Despite the fact it was all a plan conceived by Illario. Lucanis always followed in her footsteps. He was her shadow. Her “favorite” when it might not oft seem like the case.

As for Harding, she’s personally expressed her distrust toward demons numerous times—even Lucanis shares the sentiment because of his personal belief regarding demons as incarnations of everything evil in the world. So he knows he always has a target in his back, and accepts that an arrow will be put through him.

And the fact that when you point out that everyone has mental scars from trauma and abuse, “Harding” rebuffs. It’s not the mind of a person, but of a monster.

His third mask is his interpretation of Neve’s opinion on how untrustworthy it is associating with an abomination. But you learn that these are naught more than masks that even Lucanis will lose himself to. All the hiding, the deceit—he’s self-entangled in a web of his own making. He thinks this will protect people from himself should his inner demon let loose.

the fourth and final mask, his perception of Illario, is more critical of Lucanis. This is how he views his cousin. They’re family, and it seems Lucanis, to some extent, respects Illario’s opinion. Conceiving these ideas of what he would say when Illario discovers that Lucanis harbors a demonic spirit.

Lucanis again tries to dissuade the player from helping him by basically saying “shouldn’t you have better things to do?”. Minimizing his situation by hinting that he is plenty capable of handling a demon on his own. So long as he continues acting as Spite’s primary guard, even when it’s mentally self-inflicted.

It’s a grating, exhaustive task to keep your inner demons at bay, especially on your own. This is a telltale example of how real people combat their own personal demons in their own ways. Sometimes, people try to suppress and ignore them—escape into another plane of reality to shut these traumatic thoughts out. But that doesn’t always work.

Spite still exists, he is always there watching and waiting for the right opportunity to surface. Be it through provoking Lucanis (after defeating Zara & Illario appears), or when he is asleep and therefore prone to possession.

But even with this, it does not deter the player, and Illario persists, stating that Lucanis will kill those around him. That is another worry Lucanis harbors. What if he becomes a liability? What if he manages to let Spite control him, and drives a poisoned blade into his comrade?

In the end, when you’ve passed through all four guards, he’s standing there. Surprised to see you, that anyone would be willing to wade through the muck of his complex, negative thoughts. That somebody is patient enough to experience the turmoil he’s currently experiencing, and has yet to fully process.

Keep in mind that Lucanis uses his 9-5 to keep himself focused off of personal issues, even off of Spite pestering him. He reserves his brooding when he is inactive at the moment. That’s really the only time Lucanis has to try and fully process his surroundings. outside of that, man’s hardly had any time to register his own emotions and find a sense of normalcy within himself. Not while he’s actively keeping a demon at bay out of his own misconceptions about them. Not especially when the world is endangered by two gods.

All in all, Lucanis is a broken man who had set himself and those within his personal circle high standards. And now he finds any reason to harp on himself because of his forced possession, even when it’s not of his own volition.

[deathxproof]

technically I get out of work early (compared to my usual schedule) tomorrow so I’m…. Hoping to get some writing done. or I could pass out as soon as I’m home from work because wake up early. who’s to say.

[triviallytrue]

Ignoring situations involving doxxing (which are more serious but also less common and easier to protect yourself from), the main goal of sustained harassment on here is to get you to delete your blog. You can probably keep most of your friends by adding them on discord or whatever, but the underlying logic in these cases is "you are a person who exists on the same part of the internet I use, and I want that to stop."

I reject the idea that moderation will ever be a solution to this problem, at least not without creating new, worse problems. But tumblr can and should provide users better tools for defending themselves.

Let's talk about tumblr's private blog feature. You can password-protect a blog, so that users have to enter the password before being able to see and interact with your posts. This is barely a step above deleting your blog.

You need to manually share this password with everyone you want to have access to the blog, which does not scale to a following in the thousands. You need to hope that no one ever leaks the password to your harassers, in which case your only recourse is to change the password and manually reshare it, again. This is a Bad System.

What does a good system look like? Consider twitter's private account feature. All your followers are preserved, but future followers have to ask to follow your blog. If you block a follower, they can't just create a new account and dodge the block - they're locked out. You keep your blog, you keep your following, you keep your friends, and no one outside your bubble can touch you.

There are still downsides here compared to not being harassed at all - people who don't already follow you can't see your posts - but it gives you a way to turn off the harassment spigot that can be easily reversed if/when your harassers get bored.

Combine this with a feature ideally for both private and public blogs (allowing only people you follow to reblog or reply) and I think the situation on this site improves a lot.

[bluesidez]

Can’t get Firefighter Miguel out of my head because of the Miggy discord.

content warning: nothing but fluff...for now 😗

word count: 1.3k, not proofread

Next ‧₊˚ ��� 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

Imagine you’re trying to get into baking or something and you’re not used to your oven AT ALL.

Cherry pies? Ruined.

Apple fritters? Apple crisps.

Chocolate chip cookies? Charcoal chip cookies.

Brownies? More like burnt brownie brittle.

Your process would be going so well until it was time to actually put your dessert in the oven and it was like your oven plotted against you.

You set the right temperatures. You pre-heated. You even placed things in the right part of the oven. How is it that everything goes wrong?

The only desserts that saw the light of day were the no-bake ones. You’re not sure how much more no-bake cheesecake you could take anymore.

The day that really sets it off is the day that you attempted to make a simple vanilla birthday cake. Your friend’s birthday was coming soon and you wanted to gift her one of those cute bento cakes.

Your icing is finished and delicious. You’ve been practicing the decorations all week and they were pretty cute! The cake just a few more minutes left to bake, then you could take it out to chill.

As you’re piping a bag of baby pink icing, you look up to see that the room is a little foggy. You turn in a panic and notice puffs creeping from the oven.

“No, no, no!!!” you cry as you turn to open it.

You can’t do anything but cough as a ton of smoke hits you in the face.

Your cake on fire. Orange and yellow light illuminating the oven.

You panic as the fire seems to grow brighter once it hits the air.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!”

Where was your fire extinguisher? You tried fanning at fire with a towel, but to no avail. You couldn’t even get to the knobs to switch the oven off.

You step back, terrified. You felt like sobbing watching the flames take over. Why aren’t the sprinklers on?

By the time you run out of your house, the fire alarm decides it can sing its tune. You call 911 with a shaky voice, hoping they can get here faster than your alarm decided to make itself known.

You stand outside peeking through your eyes as you could see the flames grow near your kitchen window.

Thankfully the firetruck makes it in time, the firefighters working quick to get inside.

One of them asks is anyone else inside and you shake your head no, thankful that it was just you.

It doesn’t take long for them to put it out and come back outside.

“Are you ok?,” one of them comes to ask you. You look up to this tall, dark, and handsome man. He’s sweating a bit obviously from the summer heat and the fire as he takes his helmet off. His hair is curly and dripping. You ogle him a bit, watching his chest move up and down.

“Do we need to call you an ambulance?” he says, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Oh! No! So sorry, I’m still a little…winded from everything,” you say, embarrassed.

“Ok, well as long as you’re fine. Do you mind telling me what you were doing?” he asks.

You cast your eyes down. Here was such a fine man standing before you and you had on pajamas and a frilly maid apron with flour splattered on top.

“I was trying to make a birthday cake. As we can see, it completely failed,” you reply. “I don’t know what happened. I followed every instruction. The oven was set at 350 degrees.”

He tilted his head at you as you whined away.

“Is this the first time that something like this has happen?”

You shake your head no, “This is the 3rd burnt dessert in a week.”

“Hm. Well I’ll have the crew here check it out.”

An hour and some change later, one of the firefighters tells you and the tall glass of water, who learn is a captain named Miguel, that you have a damaged gas line.

“You’re really lucky that you were only getting blackened sugar. One more cake and that could have been the end,” Miguel says to you with hand on his hip and another on your shoulder. “And also, never open the oven if there’s a fire. If this happens again, turn the oven off and wait until it dies down.”

You felt your head nodding, heart beating at how awkward everything felt.

Miguel looked down at you again, “Do you have anywhere you can stay over night? Or until I can get someone up here to get this gas fixed?”

“My grandma lives a couple of streets down,” you say, cheeks heated at his intense eye contact.

“Tell you what, how about you settle there for the night and I’ll come back personally to help you grab your belongings tomorrow morning?”

“That would be amazing! Thank you so much. I’m sorry for all of this,” you gesture to your house.

“It happens. Nothing you did here was your fault. Besides, I’m the captain. Fighting fires is what I do. Now, how about a ride in the truck to your grandma’s?”

You feel giddy when he practically pulls you in the truck. No seats are left so you have to settle for sitting on Miguel’s lap, heartbeat racing.

The other firefighters try to hide their smirks and snickers watching their captain hold you so softly in his arms. One big bump in the road has you clinging to him to not fall off.

You straighten back up, embarrassed by the little slip. Miguel chuckles at your actions.

You pretend not to hear their wolf whistles as he guides you to your grandma’s front door.

Miguel knocks firmly, waiting with you until she opens it.

She’s about to fuss at you for not stopping by sooner until she looks up at Miguel.

“And who is this?” she says, a bit shocked.

“My name is Captain O’Hara. I just wanted to drop your grandbaby off. Had a little baking accident.”

Your grandma listens to Miguel as he explains the situation calmly and professionally. It doesn’t stop her from fussing over you, grabbing and turning you to check for any damage.

“I’m ok grandma. I just have to stay here while my gas gets fixed.”

She thanks Miguel profusely, “Son, what’s your favorite food? I’ll have it made and sent down there for you.”

Miguel laughs heartily. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t have to answer that until he beats you to it.

“Whatever your specialty is, I’ll take it,” he says with a sweet smile on his face and holding your grandma’s hands.

“Cap! We gotta another fire at the college dorms. Someone burnt noodles in the microwave again,” a firefighter yells from truck.

“Well if you all can excuse me, duty calls!” he says and runs back to the truck.

“I can’t believe you burnt a cake! Haven’t I taught you better? And you know you’re making him that food, right?” your grandma says as you step inside.

“Grandma,” you say, affronted. “It was the oven, not me! And he might not want to even eat what I make after this.”

“Hmph,” she says, with a click of her tongue. “Well, you better get ready to use this kitchen here. You need that man as a husband.”

“Grandma.”

“I have some ham hocks in the freezer, some turnip and mustard greens. I think the church sent me some potatoes. We need to go to the store too. You gotta get him through his stomach.”

“Grandma!”

There was a silence as you and your grandma stared at each other.

“So are you thinking pork chops or catfish to go with the side dishes?” she said, grabbing a pencil and an empty envelope.

You just groaned and crumpled in your chair.

divider by: @benkeibear ❤️‍🔥

the grandma convo is heavily inspired by my own grandma lol. tagging @miguelhugger2099 @kit-and-wolfe @huniedeux @ugh-ok-fiyn because I want y’all to see this 😗

[disneyprincemuke]

not a gamer * fem!driver

lando manages to convince her to start streaming on twitch with him, leading her to influence others to join her

pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: butt load of stupidity

notes: initially, i was gonna write a fic solely about max because he was talking about fornite the other day... but i thought how funny would it be if it were to be with some of the guys so here i am

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"hello, everyone," she smiles, reaching forward to adjust the camera as she squints her eyes. "is this a good angle? let me know if it's flattering, okay? i can't not look good on twitch."

lando has managed to convince her to join him for a stream on twitch, insisting that she should start an account as well. she initially refused, claiming that she's not that well-liked to start an account and have a loyal following. even adding on the fact that she's not even a good gamer to begin with.

but lando said that it doesn't matter, and proved her wrong by setting up a poll on his previous stream just to get her to make an account. which, the effort was very endearing.

"you always look good," she squints, turning away the right where her other monitor sits. she scrunches her nose and turns to the camera to stare into it. "logan, how did you even know i was streaming tonight?"

she rolls her eyes when his reply rolls in, claiming that he follows her twitter where she announced it. "it's time for you to go out and do something else besides stalking me, logan," she scoffs jokingly with the roll of her eyes.

"okay, so this is my first twitch stream!" she beams, sitting up straighter as she grabs her mouse. "i'm just waiting for lando to finish setting up, so i'm afraid you guys are stuck with me alone for a couple of minutes. let's get to know each other, i might be doing this pretty often this winter break just to have a bit of a hobby.

"i wanna know what you guys want to see from me."

a comment immediately rolls in.

user1: i wanna see you play fortnite with lando and max

she grins sheepishly, dropping her head. "guys, i'm not much of a gamer. never have been so this is actually my first time-ish touching games in a long while. my longest experience was playing roblox with my younger brother when we were younger."

user2: how about oscar or logan playing some games?

she presses her lips together, thinking of ways she could be able to convince her best friends to join her for some online games. when, neither of them has really dabbled much in the hobby. "i'm sure logan will be pretty keen to try, but i'm not so sure about oscar. i'll try to convince him, though he's back in australia for the majority of the break, unfortunately. the timezone difference is absolutely insane."

logansargeant: guys, ask her what her hobbies are

"logan, get off my chat!"

logansargeant: im gonna expose you on twitter for cyberbullying

logansargeant: #endcyberbullying2023

user3: #justice4logan

user4: #justice4logan

user5: u should talk about taylor swift

“oh, my god! i should!” she squeals. “we should host a listen party when she releases reputation! how good was the 1989 vault tracks?”

user6: omg ur so right

user7: iion slaps

user8: slut! is my favourite i think

“1989 had the best vault tracks,” she nods, lips pressed together. “my favourite is ‘now that we don’t talk’ because i like calling my mom.”

blythe.yln: where is lando!!!

“guys, i don’t know. he texted me 5 minutes ago saying he was setting up his pc,” she grins into the camera. “hopefully he’s here soon.”

dalton.yln: i miss oscar

oscahpastry: i miss u too

“you’ve got phones, yeah?” she grins, “use it instead of flooding my chat.”

user1: yeah guys, some of us are trying to get her attention

user9: u guys get that enough

user10: leave some for us pls

user11: yeah y so selfish

she scoffs. "right, guys? can you believe these people?"

the discord sound makes her jump, lando's voice filling up her headphones. "yo, i'm sorry! i was looking for my keyboard."

"where'd you find it, lando?"

"under the bed. apparently, that's where i kept it the last time i streamed," lando laughs. "okay, let's start off with a little horror game? it's called phasmophobia."

"a scary game?" she looks at the camera. "why would i willingly play that?"

"lando, i'm gonna kill you!" she screeches, eyes closing as the creepy sounds from the game boost in her headphones. she peeks through her eye, watching the two hands on her screen before the screen goes foggy.

lando's laughter replaces the eerie sounds of the game, making her roll her eyes. "i told you to hide and close the door!”

“i didn’t know where the stupid door even was!” she screams back, slamming the table. “lando, i don’t wanna play this game anymore!”

“but it’s so fun!”

“lando!”

logansargeant: that was funny

logansargeant: lemme join u some time

user11: omg

user11: half the grid’s gonna be on twitch?

“yeah, i’m so nice, right?” she jokes. “i’m letting them explore different career options. influencer era or something, i believe.”

oscahpastry: i only created an account to annoy her :/

seb.v5: same

user12: no shot thats actually sebastian vettel

maxverstappen1: so we are all just here waiting for an invite from these two???

logansargeant: theyre gatekeeping the stream from us :(

maxverstappen1: i wanna play fortnite

seb.v5: wait i know that game

maxverstappen1: let me join or i’ll report your account

“that’s not very nice, max,” she frowns. she looks away for a second. “lando, max says he’ll report my account if we don’t invite him to play fortnite.”

“oh, let him report you. just make another account, mate!” lando laughs. “ask him to join us phasmophobia! it’s so fun seeing you scream.”

she turns to the camera with a lopsided grin. “chat, tell lando you don’t wanna see me scream in phasmo anymore please. i’m sick of this game, i’ve got no idea what i’m doing, and i haven’t guessed the ghost correctly this entire time.”

logansargeant: keep playing phasmophobia u pussy

oscahpastry: yeah pussy

user5: its v entertaining icl

maxverstappen1: but phasmophobia costs money

“costs money?” she repeats, confusion on her face. “max? do you need financial aid?”

user10: isnt max a millionaire??????

user13: bro is complaining about a game that barely costs anything while getting paid millions a year 💀

oscahpastry: that’s wild ngl

maxverstappen1: wow i just got cyberbullied.

maxverstappen1: i’ll go get it now damn.

she sighs. “guess we’re continuing with this stupid game.”

“lando, where am i going?” max shouts, her character watching max’s go around in circles, flickering the flashlight on and off. “what am i even supposed to do?”

teaching one person how to play a complicated game like phasmophobia is easy. teaching two, however, is absolutely absurd. lando doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

“lando, there’s something written in the book!” she cheers, crouching her character down. she leans into her monitor as she tries to make out what it says. “bitch, it says run!”

she quickly gets up and walks out. “don’t have to tell me twice.”

“run where?” max shouts, his character still running in circles. “(y/n), where are you? escort me out.”

“guys, just stay inside the house and help me out!” lando whines, his character flickering the flashlight at max’s. “turn around, max. i’m here with you.”

“i’m going to the van.”

“no, you’re not! come here and camp the ghost with us!”

“absolutely not! i’m so scared shitless!”

“we should’ve just played fortnite, you know.”

“guys, please! you just have to hold the equipment for me.”

“oh, my god! oh, my god! the front door is locked!” she screams. “the front door is locked!”

logansargeant: lol dsurv

oscahpastry: not so tough now (y/n)

user8: LMFAO THAT GHOST IS HUNTIN

user14: dude the chaos is insane

user15: i need her to stream everyday actually

user16: she’s gonna be an influencer i can feel it in my bones

user17: u guys should try valorant

oscahpastry: i’d join if they play valorant

user4: omg thats crazy

user18: i kinda want to see it

user19: max playing valorant? the rage that man would feel

“lando, i’m dead again!” she screeches, slamming her mouse down into her desk. “we should’ve just played fortnite.”

logansargeant: ur issues with the door are hilarious

user4: i’ll be thinking about your inability to hide in a room for days

oscahpastry: evidence that u wouldnt survive a horror movie at all

seb.v5: maybe you should stick to sitting there and looking pretty

user20: OMG SEB CALLED HER PRETTYYYYY

user21: are we all so shocked?

user22: yeah, he looks at that girl like she aligns the stars in the sky on a race weekend

user23: him during her podium celebration cured my depression (real)

logansargeant: girl why r u just stalking lando as a ghost

“lando,” she whispers. “i saw the ghost in the corner for the room.”

“what?” max asks, voice trembling slightly. “what corner?”

“that corner.”

“what corner?”

“there. i’m pointing at it.”

“i can’t see you, stupid. you’re dead.”

“then that’s too bad.”

“i figured what type of ghost it is!” lando cheers. “follow me, max. let’s get out of this stupid house and play your stupid fortnite or something.”

“oh, how lovely! i saw (y/n)’s chat… something about valorant,” max mutters, following lando through the dark house. “i’ve seen that on tiktok and it looks kinda- lando, why’d you close the door?”

“i told you i saw the ghost lurking more than usual,” she mutters.

“i don’t even know what that means!” max shouts.

“i didn’t close the door, mate!” lando laughs. “go and hide in a room, max!”

“where? i don’t know where to go!” max screams, frantically running around in hopes of finding solace somewhere.

her character follows behind the entity in the game, clearly running around to find max. “oh, she’s coming for you, max! she’s angry!”

“i don’t know where to go!” max screams, his character running by the entryway in confusion. “lando, where do i go?”

“max, she’s coming! go in the closet!”

“what closet? oh, okay! i see it!”

“close the door, max!”

“what door- oh! okay!”

“did he live?”

“i think so. the ghost is lurking outside max’s door,” she grins into the camera, watching the entity walk back and forth outside the room max is in.

“don’t come out yet.”

“not even a chance, mate.”

“okay, she’s gone,” she sighs. “i’m gonna log out and create an account on fortnite.”

“we’re not gonna play valorant?”

“okay, chat, we’re waiting for oscar to finish the tutorial,” she smiles. “we should be in our first game in a couple of minutes.”

user24: bro ur tutorial was horrendous

user25: i love watching people be bad at valorant

user26: shes so real for that though

user27: she’d play sage for sure

seb.v5: i can’t believe you got oscar to join you

user28: and logan 🤨

user17: outrageous that i’ve been begging the grid to join lando’s streams and here she comes casually getting them to play silly games

user3: real

user28: everyone say thank you (y/n)

blythe.yln: i can’t believe u didnt ask me to join u

blythe.yln: i’m the best at valorant

blythe.yln: i’m better than dalton

user29: YES BLYTHE SPEAK YOUR TRUTH

“so, what do i do again, dalton?” lando asks softly. “what’s the ‘e’ button do?”

“puts up a wall,” the younger kid says. “and then it heals you too, but damages other people. even your teammates.”

“who’s this eminem looking bro?” max asks, giggling slightly. “frank ocean, i saw on tiktok.”

user30: my roman empire is blythe being a pro valorant player but this is the first time her sister is trying the game

“well, i’m sorry for doing other things than playing valorant,” she jokes with a smile. “but, yes, guys! blythe plays valorant for a living which is exactly why we didn’t invite her to play.”

user31: blythe is a pro val player!!?!?!?

user31: since when??

blythe.yln: yeah guys follow my twitch, i’ll treat u better

“i’m going to ban you from my chat if you keep marketing, blythe,” she frowns, though a smile creeping up on her face. “where is dalton?”

blythe.yln: dalton is my valorant spawn… i taught him what he knows

user31: dalton to go pro in a couple years?

user32: omg that’s crazy

user1: the yln’s are gonna take over the valorant scene

user6: blythe getting a redbull gaming clutch would be to die for

“mate, dalton, what’s this girl in the yellow jacket do? she looks stylish,” oscar asks.

“she’s got a turret and grenades,” dalton answers simply.

“alright, how do i get her?”

“you gotta play the game.”

“oh, what? that’s so unfair.”

“yeah, i’m sure that sucks that you’ve got to play the game, oscar,” she says. “where is logan?”

“i’m sorry,” the sigh in logan’s sentence making her laugh. “i got stuck.”

“how?” oscar asks with a laugh. “they literally tell you what to do.”

“i couldn’t find the buttons they were asking me to press,” logan mumbles with a hint of disappointment.

“are you actually intellectually hindered, mate?” she cries with a laugh, covering her eyes. “do you not frequent a laptop?”

“not really, no.”

“it shows,” oscar adds on.

blythe.yln: he’s gonna be shit

user5: so real i can alr see it

user11: dude they’re gonna be screaming at each other soon

“let’s do a quick test game,” dalton mutters as logan’s in-game name pops up on the screen. “just a short game.”

“with real people?” lando asks in a small voice. “that can trash talk me?”

“just trash talk them back, mate,” max answers. “easy.”

“just find their ip address and hit them,” logan suggests. “that’s easier.”

“what?”

“don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do it too, (y/n)!” logan whines. “come on, let’s start!”

“how do i defuse the spike?” max screams, looking at the ground as he runs around. “where even is it?”

“your left,” dalton says. “keep walking.”

blythe is now sat next to her older sister, leg propped up in her seat as she watches the screen.

“okay, okay, go to the right and look right here,” blythe mutters, pointing at the screen. “and then aim right here,” she adjusts her sister’s mouse, “when you see somebody, shoot.”

“that’s not fair. (y/n)’s literally got a pro helping her with the game,” oscar complains.

“you’re dead. literally doesn’t matter if someone’s helping you or not,” logan states. “we suck, man.”

“okay, i figured out how to defuse the bomb,” max says softly. “what now?”

“learn to play better,” blythe says loud enough for the microphone to pick up her voice. “i’ll teach you guys.”

“thank you for tuning into my stream,” she grins with a clap. “i appreciate all of the support and teaching me how to play the games. and roasting me.”

logansargeant: bro we suck

seb.v5: should stick to racing and leave gaming to blythe and dalton

“i read each and every comment you guys sent in the chat and they’re all very endearing. except yours, seb,” she stares into the camera with a stern expression, “yours were just outright unnecessary and kinda mean.”

oscahpastry: start a podcast next

maxverstappen1: i wanna be first guest

user16: please stream regularly!!

user10: make oscar play lethal company or i’ll cry

oscahpastry: stop giving her ideas

user21: when r u streaming again

“i will try to stream in a couple of days, after my shoots and marketing stuff with the team,” she grins. “thank you for watching me scream for 4 hours. catch you guys soon. stay kind and stay safe.”

user2: i’ll miss you 🫶🏼

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun

[jenscx]

[11] DAYLIGHT — d-day

you stared unblinking at the webcam, your stream displaying the waiting animation sakura had created for you a couple years back. the moment karina accepted your friend request on discord, you started the stream.

“hello everyone,” you smile, “today’s stream is slightly special and i’ll explain in just a minute when our mystery guest joins.”

your mouse hovers over the call button as the chat floods with comments about the ‘mystery guest’. by now, everyone had sort of figured out who the mystery guest was. could it really be counted as a mystery?

karina finally joins the call and your party in overwatch.

“hello?”

the chat goes crazy. you inwardly grimace. there’s a wave of donations and tips coming in. you didn’t know of karina’s popularity until that moment.

“we have karina joining us today,” you cringe at your cheerful tone. you can only imagine karina making fun of you later. she replies, “hi everyone, i’m karina.”

seeing as your viewers had calmed down significantly, you start to explain, “so i’m sure some of you guys are wondering why we hosted this stream. well, karina and i matched in a game and became acquainted with one another after.” you leave out the part about how karina was the cause of your account being banned.

“acquainted? didn’t you say we weren’t friends?” karina teased. you already feel a headache coming.

you try to smile, knowing that most likely, she’s also watching your stream and reactions.

“let’s just play!”

karina lets out a boisterous laugh as you quickly start a 1v1 match.

“are there any rules?” you read from the chat, “nope, but respawn is not on and we can change heroes.”

your mouse flashes across the screen, and you see karina being locked in already. knowing her, the youtuber probably picked genji to prove you wrong. a chuckle escapes your lips and you pick symmetra. the game starts.

“i’m excited,” karina remarks.

“excited to lose?”

she merely laughs. the doors finally open and you’ve never been so focused in your life. the mere prospect of having yu karina do anything you want is already egging you on. you weren’t aware of her fanbase, but you were now. with the help of kim minju of course.

“are you hiding?” you ask incredously after scouring the map for a few minutes but with no karina in sight.

“of course not, stupid.” her silky yet raspy voice reverberates in your headphones. you can’t help your cheeks heating up.

a moment passes, and you hear quick footsteps behind you. your mouse swiftly turns. she isn’t there anymore.

“you’re so annoying,” you mutter. you can hear karina’s smirk in her voice when she replies, “you like me that way.”

“i don’t like you in any way.”

“yeah?” before you even get to answer, genji jumps out of nowhere and gets a couple hits on you. you instantly snap into action, symmetra placing down her sentry turrets, combating karina’s swift movements.

‘are they flirting or arguing with each other?’

‘this is very homoerotic.’

you ignore your chat.

her health depletes slightly before she manages to escape again. you grin, already knowing that her pride wouldn’t allow her to switch to another hero. and she was so predictable that you chose a hero that counters genji.

“stop hiding and running away, it’s defeating the purpose of a 1v1,” you say.

“only if you tell me nicely, darling.” the red in your cheeks return and your chat goes berserk.

you click your tongue, irritation at yourself boiling. you were so easily flustered.

“don’t call me that!”

the blurry image of karina smirking only sends another wave of heat to your face.

“whatever you say, darling.” you roll your eyes.

“okay, stop hiding. let’s settle this for real.” at that moment, karina chooses to strike. genji apparates out of nowhere again and deals massive amounts of damage. when you use your primary fire, karina can’t deflect it. you’re left with barely a quarter of full health. you assume karina has roughly the same.

“baby, just let me win.”

you don’t even hesitate to stop firing. karina giggles as she throws one last shuriken at you. symmetra groans and the screen goes into darkness. your chat pings continuously.

defeat, in large and bold letters, shows up on your screen. your jaw drops. you only gaze at the monitor in awe. in awe of how easy you were. just a simple command from karina and you were basically turned into a lapdog. how does someone so insufferable have such a effect on you?

“what. the. hell.”

‘choi yena gifted 5 subs; park yn, don’t tell me you just lost because you’re a simp?’ the robotic voice says. you continue gaping at the screen. the humiliation of your loss only eats you up, and there’s an overwhelming urge to just end the stream without saying goodbye. in your headphones, you hear karina laughing heartily. the chat is still being flooded with comments, mostly making fun of you. not only had you lost, you lost in front of 20k people watching your devastating defeat.

“uhm,” you mumble, “so, see you guys next time.”

“thanks for the game, yn! don’t forget about our bet,” karina laughs gleefully.

your entire face turns red at this point. with clumsy hands, you end the stream, vowing to never play overwatch ever again.

masterlist | next

TAGLIST ! @flolio @imahallucination11 @wallfl9wer @edamboon @seullovesme @twicesserafim @klvarchives @rinapomu @pandafuriosa60 @jisooftme @cwpiqwon @yoontoonwhs @limbforalimb @xen248 @r4cjh @dni-unavailable @yukianism @i3lia @ryujinsdimple @httpisaoki @haerinsloverr @masuowo @multiliker @edenzeepy @1luvkarina @yeetaberry127

[delulustateofmind]

Long Distance - The Epilogue

All good things come to an end, and sometimes you earn that fairy tale wedding.

Blurb, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, End :)

TW: Slight Angst, Rude parents trope, language barriers, switch to Japanese to English. FLUFFY : HAPPY ENDING!!

WC: roughly 10k

Ever since you left—left him at the airport—you hadn’t heard from Satoru.

No texts. No calls. Not even a single notification on Discord.

You stared at the ring sitting on your desk, its once-brilliant diamond now dulled under a thin layer of dust. Beside it was the small snow globe of Tokyo he had given you, its tiny cityscape frozen in time, just like the memories of your time together.

The glow from your PC cast long shadows over the desk, and your gaze drifted to the Minecraft launcher icon on your screen. It had been months since you last logged in. You probably owed an absurd amount of rent in that small, pixelated towny server—the same server where it all began.

You wondered if Satoru still played. If he still logged in late at night, planting those ridiculous, mismatched crops he always insisted were "aesthetic" while teasing you for being too organized.

But you didn’t dare log in to check.

A month passed.

And then another.

The ring stayed where it was, untouched and unboxed. You couldn’t bring yourself to put it away. To hide it meant pretending it never happened, and pretending was something you were terrible at.

Your life went on in fragments. Work, sleep, occasional moments of laughter with friends—but nothing felt whole. It was as if a part of you had been left behind in that airport, still clinging to Satoru’s tear-streaked face as he begged you to stay.

It was late one night when the first notification came.

A faint ping echoed from your phone, breaking the silence of your room. Your heart leapt as you grabbed it, half-hoping, half-dreading.

A single message blinked on the screen:

青眼の白龍:

“Hey… are you there?”

Your breath caught. It was the first message you’d seen from him in months, and the sight of his username alone was enough to send a wave of emotions crashing over you.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to say. Every possible reply felt too small, too inadequate to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.

Before you could respond, another message appeared:

“Sorry. This is stupid. I just…”

“I miss you.”

The tears came before you could stop them, spilling onto your cheeks as you clutched the phone tightly.

It took you a few minutes to compose yourself before typing a reply.

“I’m here.”

The typing bubble appeared almost instantly, and his next message came through faster than you expected.

“I needed to work on some things before I could reach out.”

Your chest tightened, and you hesitated before typing again.

“Satoru, I…” You paused, deleting and rewriting the words several times before settling on, “I miss you too.”

A few days later, you finally worked up the courage to open Minecraft.

The familiar loading screen greeted you, and as you entered the server, you braced yourself for the emptiness you expected.

But when the world was rendered around you, you realized it wasn’t empty at all.

The town was still there, its quaint buildings and sprawling fields just as you remembered. And in the distance, near the little house you had built together, was a figure in familiar white leather armor, standing by a new structure you didn’t recognize.

Your heart raced as you approached.

The new building was a small chapel, simple but beautiful, with pixelated flowers lining the path to its door.

Satoru’s character turned to face yours, his usual goofy skin replaced by something more formal—a pixelated suit.

青眼の白龍:

“I made this for us.”

Your hands trembled as you typed back.

“For us?”

青眼の白龍:

“Yeah. In case you wanted to get married… here. Or in Stardew. Or Animal Crossing. Or real life. Wherever you want.”

Tears blurred your vision as you stared at the screen, the ring glinting faintly in the corner of your eye.

For the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again. Like the distance between you wasn’t so insurmountable after all.

And as Satoru’s character took a clumsy bow before stepping closer, you smiled, finally typing the words you’d been too scared to say out loud.

“I’d like that.”

You stared at the Discord notification, the little pop-up hovering on your screen. An Excel spreadsheet attachment.

青眼の白龍:

“Can you hop on a call?”

In-game, his Minecraft character crouched and uncrouched repeatedly, moving closer to your own as if mirroring his real-life restlessness. You hesitated for only a moment before clicking to join the call, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the little jingle of the Discord ringtone.

“Satoru?” you said softly as the call connected.

The sound of his voice on the other end nearly undid you. “Hey,” he said, his voice rough, quieter than you remembered. “Open the sheet.”

His English sounded more stilted, more foreign than usual, the confidence you’d grown so used to stripped away. You wondered if he’d stopped practicing in your absence—no daily calls, no teasing corrections.

Your hands trembled as you opened the attachment. Rows of neatly organized text filled the screen, and as you scrolled, your breath caught.

Four apartment listings. Three job applications. And at the bottom, a house listing.

“Satoru…”

“I… ah…” He paused, searching for the right words. “How do you say… I want you to move here.”

Your chest tightened as his words hit you.

“So I took the initiative,” he continued, his voice faltering slightly. “Teaching job… teaching English. A job at my family’s hotel, assistant role… And a job at an international school.”

You scrolled further, seeing contracts already attached, pay highlighted in bold. The effort, the thought, the sheer amount of planning he’d put into this—it was overwhelming.

“I found apartments for us,” he went on, the hurt in his tone unmistakable. “My place… too big. I like being close.”

Your vision blurred with tears as you tried to focus on the spreadsheet, each carefully linked document pulling at your heart.

“I toured them,” he said softly. “Linked are photos.”

Tears spilled freely now, and you couldn’t hold back the quiet sob that escaped your lips.

“The house though,” he added, his voice quieter, tinged with something raw, “it comes with a shop at the bottom. An apartment above. I will pay for you to do whatever you want with it. Bookstore, cafe, tutoring center… you can even become a yakuza member, and I’d support you.”

You let out a watery laugh, your shoulders shaking as you wiped at your face.

“So please,” he murmured, the vulnerability in his voice breaking something inside you, “just… come to me.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, the weight of his words and the love behind them pressing down on your chest. You stared at the screen, at the tiny, crouching character that mirrored the man waiting for your answer on the other end of the call.

“I don’t deserve you,” you finally choked out, your voice trembling.

“No,” he said firmly, his tone cutting through your tears. “I don’t deserve you. But I’m trying. I will keep trying.”

You took a shaky breath, staring at the ring on your desk, the snow globe beside it, and the spreadsheet glowing on your screen. Your heart ached with how much thought and effort Satoru had put into this. It wasn’t just a plea—it was a plan, a future laid out neatly in rows and columns, each detail a reflection of how deeply he wanted you there.

But reality came crashing down as the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Satoru, I can’t just… up and leave.”

The silence on the other end of the call was deafening.

“I mean,” you stammered, tears pooling in your eyes again, “my job, my family, my life here… I can’t just drop everything and move across the world like it’s that simple.”

His soft exhale carried through the call, and when he spoke, his voice was low, careful. “I know it’s not simple. I know it’s asking a lot.”

You could almost hear the tension in his shoulders, the way he was likely running a hand through his hair the way he always did when he was trying to stay calm.

“But,” he continued, switching to Japanese, his words trembling slightly, “君がいないと、どこにいても空っぽなんだ。(Without you, no matter where I am, it feels empty.)”

You pressed a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sob threatening to escape.

“Satoru,” you whispered, “it’s not that I don’t want to. I just…” You trailed off, the weight of everything crashing over you. “What if I get there, and I can’t adjust? What if it’s too much? What if I make the wrong decision?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said immediately, his voice firmer now. “If it’s too much, we’ll fix it. If it’s the wrong decision, then I’ll make it right. I’ll make everything right.”

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you. “It’s not that easy.”

“It doesn’t have to be easy,” he said, switching back to English, his accent thick but steady. “I just… want to try. I want us to try. That’s all I’m asking.”

The words hung between you, and for a moment, all you could hear was the soft hum of the computer and the faint sound of him breathing on the other end of the call.

Finally, he spoke again, quieter this time. “You don’t have to decide now.”

Your breath hitched, and you gripped the edge of the desk tightly.

“Take time,” he continued. “Think about it. But… don’t throw it away. Don’t throw us away. Please.”

Your tears spilled over as you stared at the spreadsheet, the apartment listings, the job offers. The life he was building for you, brick by painstaking brick.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, your voice trembling.

His relief was audible, even through the call. “Okay,” he murmured, his tone softening. “That’s all I ask.”

Neither of you said anything for a long moment, the silence heavy but not unbearable.

“I miss you,” he said finally, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “So much.”

“I miss you too,” you replied, playing with one of the knick knacks on your desk.

After you ended the call, you sat there for a long time, staring at the ring, the snow globe, and the spreadsheet on your screen. Your heart felt like it was being pulled in two directions, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on your chest.

Would it be a mistake to up and leave?

The question haunted you, whispering doubts in the quiet moments when you let yourself think too much. But chances like this… chances like him don’t just happen.

Love doesn’t just happen, and people don’t love like he does—not the way Satoru does, with his boundless energy and sincerity. He had carved a space for you in his life, in his heart, and in his plans, and no matter how much you tried to reason against it, you kept coming back to the same conclusion: you wanted to try.

You spent the next week discussing it with your family. They asked questions, expressed concerns, but ultimately, they saw the way your face lit up when you talked about him. Your dad grumbled something about “city boys” but added, begrudgingly, that it was your life to live.

Occasionally, you’d talk with Satoru. He was kind enough not to bring it up, giving you the space you needed to process. Instead, your conversations drifted back to the easy familiarity you’d missed so much. You began to sleep on calls again, his soft breathing in the background lulling you into a peace you hadn’t felt in months.

And when the deadline for your teaching contract came, you didn’t sign it.

You packed up your classroom, the memories of each lesson and every student tucked away in boxes marked Fragile. Boxes that will be left at your parents. And then you stared at one last box sitting at your front door, adorned with haphazardly placed Fragile stickers and taped-over Minecraft decals.

To: My Minecraft GF

From: Your Minecraft BF

The words made you laugh despite yourself. He really was a loser when you thought about it—a ridiculously sweet, lovable loser.

You snapped a picture of the box and sent it to him, expecting he’d already be asleep given the time difference.

But your phone rang almost immediately.

“You got it!” Satoru chimed brightly, his voice so full of joy it made your heart ache. “良かったね (Good, right?)! I was kind of worried it wouldn’t get there in time.”

You hummed, lifting the box and carrying it inside your apartment. The sound of it made him pause.

“Satoru, what is this?” you asked, setting the box down carefully on the counter.

“Mmm,” he mused, his voice softening with a teasing edge, “just things you’ll need for when you move here, obviously!”

Your heart stuttered at the ease with which he said it. “You sent me a box of… necessities?”

“Yup!” he said, laughing softly. “I took the liberty of doing all the hard stuff. Moving here is めんどくさい (a hassle), you know? Paperwork, bank accounts, utilities—it’s insane. But don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out.”

You smiled faintly, running your fingers over the tape on the box. “You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “You deserve the easiest move ever. I just… want it to be perfect for you.”

The emotion in his voice caught you off guard, and you blinked back the sudden sting of tears. You weren't sure when you started becoming a crybaby around him.

“Satoru,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, “you didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, his tone so earnest it made your heart swell and pound in your chest. You almost feared it would burst. “I want you to feel like this is your home too. Not just mine.”

You swallowed hard, leaning against the counter as your fingers traced the edge of the box. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Open it!” he encouraged, his excitement palpable. “I want to hear what you think!”

You laughed quietly, grabbing a knife to cut through the tape. “Alright, alright, I’m opening it.”

Inside, you found a mix of practical items and Satoru’s signature quirks: a guidebook to navigating Japanese bureaucracy, a prepaid Japanese SIM card, a set of keys on a keychain shaped like a tiny Minecraft diamond sword, and—because it was Satoru—a plush whale shark.

“I saw the whale shark and couldn’t resist,” he said sheepishly. “I thought it could keep you company on the plane.”

You laughed, holding the plush to your chest as your tears finally spilled over. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he teased, his voice soft but confident.

You sniffled, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I do.”

The line went quiet for a moment before he spoke again, switching to Japanese, his tone lower but filled with raw emotion.

“じゃあ、帰ってきて。(Then come home.)”

And so you did.

The moment you walked out of customs, the chaos of the bustling airport seemed to fade into the background. There he was, standing tall and impossible to miss, with his white hair practically glowing under the fluorescent lights. He held a hand-made sign that read “Welcome Home, My soon-to-be Wife” in messy, oversized English letters. The corners of the sign were adorned with doodles of hearts and what you thought were supposed to be doodles of the two of you, though Satoru’s artistic skills left much to be desired.

You froze, your chest tightening once again. It wasn’t just the sight of him—it was the way his bright blue eyes immediately found yours, as though he’d been scanning the crowd for no one but you. His lips stretched into a grin, so wide and boyish that it tugged at something deep in your chest.

“Y/N!” he called out, waving the sign enthusiastically and nearly hitting an unsuspecting traveler. His voice carried over the noise, his accent still heavy, but the sound of it warmed you in a way that made the past months of waiting melt away.

You wove through the crowd, your carry-on dragging behind you, until you were close enough to see the subtle flush on his cheeks and the slight tremor in his hand holding the sign. “My flight was on time, you lunatic,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Details,” he replied, his grin widening as he tossed the sign aside and pulled you into his arms.

The hug was overwhelming, his warmth engulfing you as he buried his face in your shoulder. You could feel him take a shaky breath, and his voice came out softer now, almost reverent. “会いたかった。(I missed you.)”

Your throat tightened, but you managed to whisper, “I missed you too.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. His blue eyes scanned your face as if to memorize every detail, and then, with a teasing smirk, he said, “Did you cry on the plane? Thinking about me?”

You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest lightly. “Not even a little.”

“Liar,” he said with a laugh, grabbing your carry-on before slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Come on. I’ve been waiting for hours, and I’m starving. Let’s go home.”

The car ride was quieter, the hum of the engine filling the spaces between soft words and lingering glances. Ijichi, ever the patient (forced to be) assistant, focused on the road while Satoru made himself comfortable in the backseat.

He leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder as his hand slipped into yours. His fingers toyed with yours absently, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

“You tired?” you asked, glancing down at him.

“うん、ちょっとだけ。(Yeah, just a little),” he murmured, though the way he clung to you said otherwise. “Not tired—just… happy. You’re here.”

The simplicity of his words made you smile softly. You squeezed his hand, leaning your head against his. “I’m here.”

As the car wove through the streets of Tokyo and into the quieter outskirts, you felt peace as you ran your fingers through his snowy white hair to which he hummed.

When the car pulled up to the house, you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your lips. It wasn’t at all what you had expected. Nestled at the end of a quiet street, the traditional Japanese home stood with its sloping tiled roof and wooden lattice windows, surrounded by an overgrown garden that seemed to be fighting to reclaim the space. The setting sun cast a golden glow over it, illuminating the imperfections—the peeling paint, the worn steps leading to the entrance—but also the charm that made it feel alive.

“It’s… old,” Satoru said, scratching the back of his neck as he stepped out of the car. He glanced at you, his expression a mix of excitement and hesitation. “Needs some work. A lot of work, actually. But I thought…” He trailed off, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You thought what?” you asked, stepping out and taking it all in, the scent of fresh earth and the faint buzz of cicadas filling the air.

“I thought it could be ours,” he said softly, his gaze darting away from you. “You know, something we build together. Like a project.”

Your chest tightened as you turned to him, taking in the nervous way he kept glancing at the house and then back at you. You stepped closer, slipping your hand into his. “It’s perfect,” you said, your voice steady.

The tension in his shoulders melted as he squeezed your hand, his grin breaking through. “Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah.”

He exhaled deeply, his free hand brushing through his hair. “Good. Because I might’ve, uh, skipped a step or two when I bought it. Like asking for your opinion first.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “That’s pretty on-brand for you.”

“Hey, what can I say? I’m a man of action,” he teased, his grin widening as he tugged you toward the front steps.

And he was a man of action. That much had been proven in the whirlwind of lawyer meetings, paperwork, and sleepless nights that had led to this moment. Somehow, he’d managed to cut through the red tape and jump through the countless hoops required to make you not just his wife, but also a Japanese citizen. A home-owning Japanese citizen. A future business owner.

The weight of it all pressed on your chest for a moment, the enormity of this new life making your stomach twist. But before you could spiral too deeply into your thoughts, Satoru gave your hand another tug, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

“Come on,” he said, leading you toward the private entrance tucked beside the storefront. “Wait until you see it. You’re gonna love it.”

The apartment sat atop the shop, its entrance marked by a small, well-worn door that opened to a narrow staircase. He pulled you along with an almost childlike eagerness.

The stairs creaked as you climbed, and when you reached the top, Satoru paused, fishing out a set of keys from his pocket. He fumbled with them for a moment before pushing open the door, stepping aside to let you in first.

“Welcome home,” he said softly, his voice laced with a mix of pride and vulnerability.

As the two of you walked into the apartment, the weight of everything you were stepping into became more real. The wooden floors creaked under your feet, and the air smelled faintly of cedar and something older. The tatami mats in one room were worn but still beautiful, and the kitchen, though outdated, had a charm that made you picture quiet mornings and shared meals.

“This kitchen,” Satoru said, leaning against the doorway, “needs upgrades. Like, a lot. But I already have plans. Fancy ones. Don’t worry—I’ll handle it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ll handle it?”

“Of course,” he said, his grin widening. “I’m a very handy husband, didn’t you know?”

“Sure you are,” you teased, rolling your eyes as you ran your fingers along the wooden countertop. “It really is beautiful, Satoru. It feels like home.”

His teasing demeanor faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer. “That’s the point,” he said quietly.

But before the conversation could deepen, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed, pulling it out and glancing at the screen.

“Family?” you asked gently.

He nodded, his expression shifting. “Yeah. I told them today.”

Your stomach twisted. “Do you want me to…?”

He shook his head quickly. “No. You don’t need to hear this.”

He stepped out onto the porch, his voice low at first as he spoke into the phone. But it didn’t take long for the conversation to escalate.

“お母さん、聞いて。(Mom, listen.)” His voice was firm but calm, though the tension in his shoulders was clear even through the doorway.

“結婚した？(You got married?)”

“Yes,” he said, switching briefly to English before reverting to Japanese. “僕たちはもう夫婦だ。(We’re already married.)”

“私たちに何も相談しないで？(Without consulting us at all?)”

“相談する必要なんてないでしょ。(There was no need to consult you.)”

Your heart sank as you stepped closer to the door, hearing fragments of the conversation.

“伝統を無視していい理由にはならない。(That doesn’t mean you can ignore tradition.)”

“伝統って？僕の人生を誰か他の人に決めさせることが伝統だっていうの？(Tradition? You mean letting someone else decide my life for me is tradition?)”

The silence that followed was deafening before his father’s voice broke through, lower and colder. “彼女は一体何を持っている？お金？地位？名誉？(What does she have? Money? Status? Prestige?)”

Satoru froze for a moment, his hand tightening into a fist. “彼女が持っているのは、僕を愛してくれる心だけだ。(What she has is a heart that loves me.)”

You swallowed hard as you realized how much he was standing up for you—how much this moment might cost him.

When he finally ended the call, he stepped back inside, his face flushed with frustration. He looked at you, his expression softening as he muttered, “怒ってる。(They’re angry.)”

You hesitated, wringing your hands. “私のせいで？(Because of me?)”

“違う。(No.)” He stepped closer, his hands finding yours. “これは僕が選んだことだ。君を守るのは僕の責任。(This was my choice. It’s my responsibility to protect you.)”

“But they’re your family,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

He let out a breath, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “君も僕の家族だ。(You’re my family too.)”

His blue eyes softened, and the tension in his face faded as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “心配しないで。(Don’t worry.)”

You nodded, about to speak before he interrupted.

“Now,” he said, breaking the moment with his usual grin, “let’s go figure out what’s for dinner. I’ve been married for, like, two minutes, and I already feel like I deserve a good meal.”

You laughed, swatting his arm as he pulled you further into the house. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he teased, his voice finally light again as he led you toward the kitchen.

After settling into your new home, you and Satoru decided to explore the neighborhood and find a place to eat. The evening air was cool, carrying the scent of blossoming flowers as you walked hand in hand down the quaint streets. Street lights began to flicker to life, casting a warm glow that reflected in Satoru's bright blue eyes.

You stumbled upon a cozy, traditional restaurant tucked away on a quiet corner. The wooden exterior and noren curtains gave it an inviting feel. Inside, you were seated at a low table near a window overlooking a small garden. The soft murmur of conversation and the clink of dishware created an atmosphere of serene intimacy.

At dinner, Satoru was already whining about how much he desperately wanted a big wedding, his voice rising dramatically enough to draw glances from nearby tables.

“I’m just saying,” he began, his lips pouting as he leaned closer, “we deserved better than a courthouse wedding. It’s terrible how many loopholes foreigners have to go through to get here.”

His fingers laced with yours on the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly.

“You deserve the big cake, the beautiful dress, the embarrassing 叔父 (uncle) who drinks too much—all of it!” He hummed softly before lifting your hand to his lips, planting a tender kiss on the back of it.

You couldn’t help the way your cheeks warmed at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard.

“First,” he continued, his expression brightening, “we’ll get that little shop of yours sorted. I’ve already talked to contractors—”

“Satoru,” you interrupted gently, glancing away from him.

He paused, tilting his head curiously as he studied your face. “Too fast?” he teased lightly, though there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.

You hesitated, your voice quieter when you finally spoke. “We got married on a whim. What if this is just a honeymoon phase?”

Satoru had always been the type to jump head first into things. This wasn’t going to be any different for him.

His grin faltered for a split second, but then it returned, softer this time. “A honeymoon isn’t supposed to be a nightmare,” he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re cruel, my wife.”

Before you could respond, he brought your hand to his lips again, this time pressing a flurry of featherlight kisses along your knuckles.

“Satoru,” you hissed, pulling your hand back slightly, “people are staring.”

“Let them stare,” he said with a wink, his voice dropping to a soft murmur as he leaned closer. “I don’t care who’s watching. You live in my thoughts, in my dreams—you’re everywhere to me.”

Your breath hitched as he sat back, his expression unusually serious. “I’ve never known love to feel like this,” he admitted, switching to Japanese as his words grew more raw. “君がいると、初めて本当に愛を知った。(With you, I’ve truly understood love for the first time.)”

You looked away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, but he reached out, gently cupping your cheek and turning your face back toward his.

“I am so sure about this,” he said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a moment, the noise of the restaurant faded away, leaving only the two of you in your little world. His thumb brushed your cheek as he smiled softly, his voice dipping to a whisper.

“Trust me, Y/N. This isn’t a phase. It’s us.”

You felt your chest tighten, the doubts that had been bubbling at the edges of your mind beginning to dissolve.

“I’m just scared,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“I know,” he replied, his tone steady. “But I’ll keep proving it to you. Every day. For as long as it takes.”

And so you both had little life moments that ultimately led to your big day.

Like IKEA.

“We could have gone to a department store,” Satoru whined, stretching his impossibly long legs out as he sat cross-legged on the floor. His white hair was already sticking up from where he’d run his fingers through it in frustration.

“We’re saving money,” you replied, pulling out the infamous IKEA instructions and flattening them on the floor.

“Not saving time,” he shot back with a teasing grin, leaning back on his hands as he watched you. “But if my wife wants IKEA, then my wife gets IKEA!”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your foot. “Don’t start. This was your idea too.”

“Was it?” he hummed, pretending to think. “I feel like I was tricked into this.”

Five hours later, the two of you sat in front of a half-built entertainment center. You both looked disheveled—Satoru with his sleeves pushed up, his hair a wild mess, and you with a pencil tucked behind your ear.

“This… should not have taken five hours,” you muttered, glaring at the pile of screws still sitting in the box.

Satoru groaned, resting his forehead against the edge of the unfinished piece of furniture. “We’re paying for the assembly next time.”

“I told you to follow the instructions!”

“I did follow them!” he shot back, switching to Japanese mid-rant. “でも、これめちゃくちゃだ！(But this is ridiculous!)”

He reached for another screw, cursing under his breath as it refused to cooperate. You stifled a laugh at his frustration, which only earned you a dramatic glare.

“You’re laughing now, but you’ll be crying when this thing collapses under the weight of all my consoles,” he huffed, gesturing toward the collection of vintage Nintendo systems and the PS5 sitting nearby.

“Your consoles?” you teased. “Pretty sure half of those are mine.”

He smirked, his irritation melting away as he looked at you. “Fine. Our consoles. But I’m still blaming you if this thing falls apart.”

When the entertainment center finally came together, you both sat back, exhausted but victorious.

“Not bad,” Satoru admitted, inspecting the finished product. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned over and kissed your temple. “Still hate IKEA, though.”

“Me too,” you said with a laugh. “But admit it—it’s kind of nice, isn’t it? Building something together.”

He smiled, his teasing tone softening. “Yeah. It is. But we could have just built something in minecraft too.” To which he earned a slap from you.

Then there was your first argument.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, but it felt significant nonetheless—like a crack in the foundation you were building together. And though the language barrier between you was smaller than it had been when you first met, it still had a way of making difficult conversations even harder.

“I just don’t understand why you don’t open up!” you exclaimed, your voice bouncing off the walls of the apartment. “Some days you’re as open as a flower, and then others you shut me out completely!”

Satoru stood by the kitchen counter, his hands braced against the edge as he avoided your gaze. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened as he processed your words.

“I’ve noticed how exhausted you’ve been lately,” you continued, your voice softening slightly. “You’ve taken on the family business and you’re still teaching night classes at the university. You can’t keep going like this, Satoru.”

He muttered something in Japanese under his breath, too quiet for you to catch, before finally straightening up. His voice, when it came, was sharp and fast, the words spilling out in rapid-fire Japanese.

“君に全部を話すのは簡単じゃないんだ！家族の期待、仕事のプレッシャー、全部が僕を押し潰しそうで…(It’s not easy to tell you everything! The expectations of my family, the pressure from work—it feels like it’s crushing me!)”

“Slow down, please,” you interrupted, holding up a hand as your frustration bubbled over. “I can’t keep up when you talk that fast.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering another string of Japanese before slamming the door as he left the room.

You stared at the now-closed door, your heart pounding as anger and confusion swirled inside you. “So we’re acting like children now,” you muttered under your breath, your voice dripping with irritation.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint creak of the floorboards as you paced the living room, occasionally glancing at the shut kitchen sliding door.

It took nearly an hour before the door opened again.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, his hair disheveled and his expression guarded. He held something in his hands—one of your favorite mugs filled with tea.

“飲む？(Drink?)” he asked softly, holding it out to you. His English wavered slightly as he added, “For… peace?”

You hesitated before taking the mug, the warmth of it grounding you. “Thanks,” you muttered, glancing up at him. “Are you ready to talk now?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “ごめん。(Sorry.)”

“For what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For… yelling,” he said, his words slow and deliberate as he switched to English. “I… don’t talk about my feelings well. In Japanese or English. It’s hard.”

You nodded, sipping the tea as you waited for him to continue.

“家族の期待はすごく重い。(The expectations from my family are so heavy.)” He switched back to Japanese, his voice quieter now. “そして、自分の弱さを君に見せるのが怖い。(And I’m scared to show you my weaknesses.)”

You frowned, setting the mug down as you reached for his hand. “I’m not here to judge you, Satoru. I’m here to support you. But I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his lips pressing into a thin line before he nodded slowly. “I know. I’ll… try. Really.”

You smiled faintly, squeezing his hand. “That’s all I need.”

He met your gaze, his usual teasing grin returning faintly, though the hint of uncertainty in his eyes betrayed him. “So… we’re good? You still love me?”

“Depends,” you said, raising an eyebrow, crossing your arms for added effect. “Are you done slamming doors like a child?”

Satoru winced dramatically, running a hand through his messy hair. “Ouch, low blow,” he muttered in Japanese, “でも、たぶんそれは正しい。(But maybe that’s fair.)”

You raised an eyebrow further, watching as he tilted his head like he was weighing his options.

“Okay,” he said finally, his hands raised in mock surrender. “No more slamming doors. Promise.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to think it over before relenting with a small smile. “Good. Then yeah, we’re good. And I still love you. For some reason.”

He lit up at that, his grin widening into something more familiar, more Satoru. “For some reason?” he repeated, feigning offense as he leaned closer. “Excuse me? I am incredibly lovable, thank you very much.”

“Debatable,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice undercut your words.

He smirked, his teasing tone softening into something more serious as he reached out to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin as his voice dipped, switching to Japanese.

“君が怒っても、俺はいつも君を愛してるよ。(Even when you’re mad, I always love you.)”

“Then maybe don’t give me a reason to be mad next time,” you whispered, your lips twitching into a smile.

“Deal,” he said with a laugh, pulling you into his arms. “But only if you promise not to glare at me like that. It’s scary, you know.”

“Scary?” you scoffed, but your laughter was muffled as he buried his face into your shoulder, holding you tightly as if to make up for the earlier tension.

“Terrifying,” he murmured against your skin, though the smile you could feel against your shoulder told you he didn’t mind one bit.

Yet, you still had your difficult moments with him. Moments like meeting his parents.

The Gojo family estate was vast—almost intimidatingly so. It was the kind of place you’d only ever seen in dramas or movies, with sprawling gardens, traditional architecture, and the faint, soothing sound of water trickling from a nearby koi pond. The scale of it was breathtaking, but it also made you acutely aware of just how far removed this life was from your own.

“You have your own bathhouse and hot spring?” you asked, staring at the steam rising from the far end of the property.

“What? You don’t?” Satoru teased, his grin smug.

You rolled your eyes, smacking the back of his head lightly. “You’re impossible.”

He chuckled, rubbing the spot where you hit him. “Careful, wife. They might be watching,” he said, glancing around dramatically.

Your stomach tightened at the reminder of why you were here. His parents. The people who had made it clear over the phone that they were less than thrilled about your marriage.

Satoru must have noticed the shift in your expression because he immediately stepped closer, his hand finding yours. “Hey,” he said softly, his teasing tone replaced with something gentler. “It’s going to be fine. They’re… difficult, but they’ll come around. Eventually.”

“And if they don’t?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“それならそれでいい。(Then that’s fine.),” he said firmly, his blue eyes meeting yours. “君は俺の家族なんだから。(You’re my family now.)”

When the two of you finally entered the main house, it felt like stepping into another world. The polished wooden floors gleamed under the soft light filtering in through the shoji screens, and the faint scent of incense lingered in the air.

His mother was the first to greet you, her sharp gaze sweeping over you like a scan. She was poised and elegant, every inch the matriarch of a powerful family. Her lips curved into a polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“これが奥さん？(So, this is the wife?)” she said, her tone clipped but not outright hostile.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Satoru stepped in immediately, his arm slipping around your waist.

“そうです、お母さん。(That’s right, Mom.)” His grin was disarming, but his tone carried a hint of challenge.

His mother’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before she said, “少なくとも見た目は悪くないわね。(At least she doesn’t look bad.)”

Your stomach churned, but you managed to bow politely. “ありがとうございます。(Thank you.)”

She raised an eyebrow at your response but didn’t say anything further, instead turning toward Satoru.

“悟、私たちの期待を知っているはずよ。(Satoru, you should know our expectations.)”

“知ってるよ。(I know),” he replied smoothly. “でも、僕の選びに自信がある。(But I’m confident in my choice.)”

His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing.

Dinner was tense.

His father sat at the head of the table, his presence quieter but no less imposing. He said little, but the disapproval in his gaze was unmistakable. His mother, on the other hand, seemed determined to test you with pointed questions and subtle remarks.

“あなたは何ができるの？(What can you do?)” she asked at one point, her eyes narrowing slightly. “家族に貢献できる能力はあるの？(Do you have any abilities that can contribute to the family?)”

You opened your mouth, but Satoru cut in before you could speak.

“お母さん、そんな言い方やめて。(Mom, don’t talk like that.)” His tone was light but firm, the edges of his grin sharp.

She turned her attention to him, sighing dramatically. “悟、こんな女性を選ぶなんて、あなたらしくないわ。(Satoru, choosing a woman like this—it’s so unlike you.)”

His grin widened, though his hand tightened slightly around yours under the table. “それが僕の魅力でしょ？(That’s my charm, isn’t it?)”

Later, as you and Satoru strolled through the serene garden, the tension from dinner lingered like a faint fog in the crisp evening air. The koi pond reflected the moonlight, its ripples breaking the stillness, but your mind was far from calm.

“Well, that was… something,” you said, glancing at him as you walked side by side.

“See? Not so bad,” he replied casually, though the slight slump of his shoulders betrayed him.

You raised an eyebrow. “Your mom basically said I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“And she’s wrong,” he replied immediately, his tone firm as he slipped his hand into yours. His fingers interlaced with yours as if to ground you.

You frowned, glancing at the ground. “But what if they never accept me? What if they always look at me like I don’t belong here?”

He stopped walking, gently tugging on your hand to make you stop too. When you looked up at him, his expression was soft but teasing, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his lips curving into a grin. “Even if they hate you, I’ll keep you around like a little Pokémon. My little Pokémon.”

Your lips twitched as you tried to suppress a laugh. “Your little Pokémon?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded solemnly, leaning closer as his grin widened. “I’ll carry you around in a Pokéball if I have to. Feed you berries. Make you fight other Pokémon for me.”

You finally burst out laughing, swatting at his arm. “You’re ridiculous!”

“But it worked, didn’t it?” he said, his tone smug as he straightened up and began walking again, still holding your hand.

His humor, silly as it was, had a way of making the world feel lighter, more manageable.

“Seriously, though,” he said after a moment, his voice softening. “I don’t care what they think. You’re my wife. My partner. That’s all that matters to me.”

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten, and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Satoru. For always making me feel like I belong.”

“You do belong,” he said firmly, his grin returning. “Now, come on. Let’s see if I can find another reason for you to smack me tonight. It’s becoming my favorite sport.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you let him lead you deeper into the garden, the tension from the evening melting away with every step, maybe moving to japan wasn’t so bad.

The shop came together slowly. What started as an empty, tired space transformed into something warm and inviting, with walls freshly painted in a color you both agreed on after hours of debate and laughter. The floors, once scuffed and dull, were polished until they gleamed, and the large windows let in sunlight that danced across the room in golden patches.

Satoru was there every single day. He showed up with coffee in the mornings, his hair messy and his grin wide, and stayed until the late hours, determined to see the shop come to life. He insisted on helping with everything—painting walls, unpacking boxes, even assembling shelves, though you’d banned him from building furniture unsupervised after the IKEA incident.

“Careful with that,” you said one afternoon as he attempted to hammer a nail into the wall for a shelf.

“I am careful,” he replied, pouting slightly as he adjusted his grip. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not when it comes to tools,” you teased, earning a dramatic gasp from him.

He placed a hand over his chest, his blue eyes wide. “You wound me, my love. My dear, sweet wife, doesn't her manly husband help her?”

You threw a pencil at him that he dodged with a boyish giggle. You loved your little idiot.

The grand opening was a whirlwind of emotions. From the moment you flipped the sign to “Open,” the little bell above the door jingled nonstop as customers poured in.

Satoru was your biggest cheerleader, practically buzzing with excitement as he handed out flyers outside.

“My wife’s shop!” he announced proudly to anyone within earshot, switching between Japanese and English as he grinned from ear to ear. “She’s amazing! You have to come see it!”

Every time a customer entered, he followed them in, gesturing around the shop with exaggerated enthusiasm. “見て、全部彼女のアイデアだよ！(Look, everything was her idea!)”

You caught him once talking to a group of teenagers, pointing to a shelf. “That one? I built it. With these hands. For her,” he said, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “Pretty romantic, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at him from behind the counter, but your smile betrayed you.

That night, after the last customer had left and you’d flipped the sign to “Closed,” the two of you sat behind the counter. The shop was quiet now, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting a warm light over the space.

Satoru leaned back against the counter, watching as you counted the day’s earnings. His expression was relaxed, but his eyes were filled with pride.

“Successful first day,” he said softly, breaking the silence.

You nodded, setting the stack of bills aside. “It went better than I expected.”

He leaned closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you admitted.

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You could’ve, but I wouldn’t have let you. Watching you build this…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and he sighed contentedly. “I’ve never been more proud of you.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, leaning into his touch.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For everything. For believing in me. For doing this all for me.”

“Always,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “I am the best husband, after all.”

And finally, the big day came.

Two years of building your life together in Japan. Two years of pushing through challenges, laughter, tears, and countless shared moments that made you stronger. And now, the day you’d dreamed of was here—your big wedding.

What you weren’t prepared for, though, was the overwhelming anxiety of it all.

The Gojo family name carried weight. As the heir, Satoru’s life was always under scrutiny, and this wedding was no exception. A small fortune had been spent on the event—no expense spared. The guest list was a who’s who of Japan’s elite, from business tycoons to celebrities, and social media buzzed with headlines like “A Cinderella Story: Gojo Heir Marries Foreigner” and “Love Beyond Borders: The Gojo Wedding”.

The sheer magnitude of it all made your hands tremble as you adjusted the flowers in your bouquet for what felt like the hundredth time. You fidgeted with your dress, smoothing the fabric and taking a deep breath as you stood at the grand doors to the altar.

Your father stood beside you, his arm steady under yours. He grunted softly, giving you a small, reassuring smile, though you could see the glint of unshed tears in his eyes.

“You ready, kid?” he asked gruffly, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, though your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest. “I think so.”

The music swelled, and the grand doors slowly creaked open.

This was it.

The sunlight streamed through the ornate stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the polished floor as you stepped forward. The room was a blur of faces—guests turning to watch you with awe and admiration—but none of it mattered.

Your eyes locked on Satoru.

He stood at the altar, impossibly handsome in a tailored suit that fit him perfectly. His broad shoulders were relaxed, but his hands clasped in front of him betrayed the slightest hint of nervousness.

The moment he turned to look at you, everything else melted away.

His pale blue eyes widened, the teasing sparkle you’d grown so used to replaced by something softer, something raw. His boyish grin faltered for a moment as his gaze traveled from your face to the delicate details of your dress and back again.

Then, just as you reached the halfway point, his grin returned—but softer, warmer, and tinged with vulnerability. His lips parted slightly, and you watched as he blinked rapidly, his shoulders stiffening.

Gojo Satoru, the man who could laugh through anything, was holding back tears.

You bit your lip to stop your own emotions from spilling over, focusing on your steps as you walked down the aisle. When you finally reached him, your father placed your hand in Satoru’s, his grip firm as if passing you over was the most important thing he’d ever do.

“Take care of her,” your father said quietly, his voice gruff but thick with emotion.

Satoru nodded, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. “Always,” he replied softly, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

When you turned to face him fully, he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing motion.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, switching to Japanese, he added, “世界で一番きれいだ。(You’re the most beautiful in the world.)”

The ceremony was stunning—flowers perfectly arranged, sunlight filtering through the venue in golden hues, and soft murmurs from the guests creating a gentle hum of anticipation. But everything faded into the background as Satoru stepped forward, your hands in his, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment.

He cleared his throat, his usual confident grin replaced by something far more vulnerable. His pale blue eyes met yours, filled with emotion, and as he opened his mouth to speak, you could hear the nervous tremor in his voice.

“If I… uh…” he paused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he tried again. “If I had known I was going to meet the love of my life on some… some family-friendly Minecraft server…”

He stopped, a soft chuckle escaping him as he switched to Japanese without realizing it. “本当に信じられなかった。(I really wouldn’t have believed it.)”

The crowd chuckled gently, but his gaze never wavered from yours. He switched back to English, his accent thicker than usual as he struggled through his nerves. “I… I thought life was enough. Being the best at everything. Being by myself. Accepting that there were dreams I… couldn’t reach.”

He swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly as he slipped back into Japanese. “そう思ってたんだけど…君と出会うまでは。(That’s what I thought… until I met you.)”

His grip on your hands tightened, his thumbs brushing over your skin. “Until I met her. My wife,” he said, his voice breaking slightly on the word. “My wife who left her hometown. My wife who… who came here to build a life with me.” He stopped, blinking rapidly as tears gathered in his eyes. “My wife who…挑戦するたびに強くなる。(Who becomes stronger with every challenge.)”

A soft sniffle escaped him, and he let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand before returning it to yours. “I can’t wait to… uh…” He faltered, switching back to Japanese as his emotions overtook him. “歳を取るのが楽しみだ。(I can’t wait to grow old together.)”

The guests leaned in, captivated, as he tried again in English, his voice raw. “To have… sick days with you. Laying in bed… with runny noses. Soup… soup warming in our kitchen.” His laugh broke through the emotion, and he sniffled again, blinking back tears.

“I can’t wait to… to have little arguments… and big ones. Ones that show how much we… we care.” His lips quirked into a wobbly smile, his eyes glistening. “I can’t wait to… to go to bed with you every night. And wake up to you every morning. With the sun shining through the window.”

He exhaled shakily, his voice softening as he continued in Japanese, the words spilling out like a confession. “君に似た子供が欲しいな。(I hope our children look like you.)”

You heard the crowd gasp softly, their emotion mirroring his as he continued, his voice thick with tears. “I can’t wait to live the rest of my days with you. 君だけだ。(You’re my one and only.)”

You couldn’t stop your own tears now, your heart aching with how much love and vulnerability he poured into every word. Something that was so unlike him.

He hesitated, his voice a trembling whisper as he leaned forward just slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Are you… ready for forever?”

You nodded, your voice breaking as you whispered back, “Ready.”

The officiant’s voice was a blur, the moment surreal as Satoru finally leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so tender, so full of emotion, it felt like the world itself paused.

The applause, the cheers, the tears of the guests—all of it faded into the background.

And with that. You had landed your fairy tale ending.

A/n: I tried to really showcase domestic bliss but also the challenges of a new relationship and the challenges of moving in after a long distance. I cut out A LOT, this series rots my brain. I could continue it for ages, but I fear that all good things must come to an end to stay good, and I'd like to work on some other characters. Thank you all for taking the time to read the fic and leave such nice comments. Truly had been a wonderful journey.

Some more thoughts nobody asked for, but it's information that I feel like needs to be elaborated.

Who fell first?

Reader...but Satoru fell extremely hard. It was when he ended the call that he had to do math problems just to keep him from texting you. He didn't realize it at first though.

Do they have kids?

Yes! 2-3 actually, Gojo family ends up coming around to the reader after everything. Especially when the kids are born. The mother becomes a bit softer. Though Satoru doesn't trust them with overnight babysitting, he leaves Suguru or Nanami for that. Gojo does end up leaving teaching, but when his kids get older, he does go and do experimental demos in their classes. 100% takes fewer business trips. If they're longer, he tries to make them a family vacation. Unfortunately, he does his best to give his kids a normal childhood, but with the family name, they do have to go to private school.

Why no smut:

Was originally going to be yandere, but I wanted something fluffy to work on. This is why I didn't include smut. However, I imagined the reader having no experience, so when things did come down to it. Satoru was very gentle and reassuring the whole time, so much that she slapped him for it after he said, "Is this okay?" For the hundredth time.

Again, thank you all for reading. 🩷

[808airsoftbros]

Who's the Bustiest? (Female Idols) (BXG) (S)

Author: This is an idea that I got from Discord and came up with this. Hope you enjoy it and if you want to check out my Masterlist for more fics :)

Y/N's POV

It was my first day of college, I was quite excited as I'd get the opportunity to learn new things, make new friends, and perhaps find love.

But I knew that was all delusional love stories that you see in web dramas although they are entertaining to watch after school.

Anyway, I was on my way to my first class, that was until I heard the loud sounds of footsteps approaching me and I turned around and saw a woman running towards me.

"What the-" I was about to say but it was too late as the girl ran into me.

What was worse was that she was holding a cup of cappuccino and it spilled all over my new Addidas jacket which isn't cheap.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The girl apologized and rushed to get some tissues from her bag.

"Aish... It's okay... Are you hurt?" I checked and she shook her head.

"N-No, but thank you for asking," She answered.

"Oh my Lord, Unnie are you okay?!" Another girl approached and she nodded.

"I-I'm fine, it's my fault! I wasn't looking!" She said and she sighed.

Though my jacket was soaked and stained with coffee, my shirt escaped without a drip of coffee so at least I didn't need to change clothes right now.

"We're so sorry about this, Jisun-Unnie here can be a bit clumsy sometimes, I am Natty, second-year," She introduced herself.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, first year," I replied and she nodded.

"Ah, so you're a freshman, well in that case, welcome to our school," She said and I thanked her.

Taking off my jacket soaked, I tried to squeeze as much coffee out as possible. I was planning to quickly make a run to the dry cleaners on campus but Jisun-Noona and Natty-Noona insisted on cleaning it themselves seeing it was Jisun-Nonna's fault.

At first, I was reluctant to do so as I didn't fully trust them despite them being my sunbaenims but you cannot be too safe.

"It's okay, Y/N, your jacket will be safe with us. Here, I'll give you our numbers as insurance, and I'll text you when it's ready," She suggested and I nodded.

"Sounds fair," I agreed and opened my phone app.

Adding them to my contacts, I thanked them as I handed over my jacket to them, and we went seperate ways to go to our classes.

Heading to my first subject, math, I was greeted by the professor and I greeted her back before taking my seat.

After about ten minutes, the lecture started, and the professor wasted no time getting into the intro to Calculus. Being a math nerd, the lesson wasn't hard and I was able to easily figure it out.

Working on a problem, I felt someone poking my shoulder and I looked to see a beautiful and busty girl poking me to get my attention.

"H-Hey, do you mind helping me with this?" She shyly asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, no prob," I answered and she smiled.

"Thank you! I'm Lee Saerom, second-year, and what about you?" She kindly asked and I introduced myself.

Helping her with the problem, she was amazed at how easily I was able to solve it and I showed her step-by-step on how to solve the formula and find the proper solution.

Most of it was basic Algebra which she wasn't too half bad on but still could use more work if she wants to succeed in the class.

"T-Thank you but I could use your help in the future. Do you mind if we exchange numbers?" She asked and I agreed.

"Sure, why not?" I answered and I input my number.

Adding her to my contacts, I felt lucky at how I managed to get three girl's number... Even though I'm not going out with either of them. Hehe.

After class, was over, the rest of my three classes were uneventful as the professors were introducing their first lessons and shit.

With my day of college over for today, I got a text from Natty saying that my jacket is now ready for pick up and uploaded a photo.

I was shocked at how cleaned it looked as if it just came out of the production line.

I texted Natty that I'd meet her at whatever nearby location, and she texted suggesting to meet her at her dormitory.

"Okay, come to Dorm 321,"

Giving her a thumbs up emoji, I put my phone away in my pocket, and I looked to see three other hot woman coming my way and they do not look happy.

"You! Punk!" One of them pointed at me.

"Me?" I asked and she marched toward me before harshly grabbing my collar.

"Did you hit our friend?!" She angrily asked and I was fucking confused.

"W-What are you talking about?!" I nervously asked as I have no idea what they're accusing me of.

"Liar!" The other woman who also have huge boobs said and I gulped.

It didn't take long for them to beat the shit out of me and I was totally helpless. My arms and legs were sore, and I was left with a black eye.

Fucking hell, what is their damn problem?! I should report them to the police for assault!

Whatever, the police wouldn't believe that a man was beaten up by three busty women so I took a deep breath and decided to let the whole transgression slide.

Despite being injured a bit, I make my way to my Noona's dorm as instructed. Each step I took stung the living shit out of me but I kept going.

"Jeez, this is not how I imagined my first day of college..." I muttered as I painfully make my way into the elevator.

Once the elevator reached the third floor, I got some stares from other students but I ignored them.

Finally arriving at Dorm 312, I didn't see any doorbell so I texted Natty that I'd arrived and she said she'd be there in a few minutes.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait too long as Natty opened the door with my freshly cleaned jacket in hand and she was horrified to see bruises and scars all over my body and uniform.

"My God! What the hell happened to you?! Did you get into a fight?!" She frantically asked and I shook my head.

"I fell," I lied and she sighed.

"Come on, I'll treat your wounds," She said before stepping aside.

"No! No! It's fine, I'll just go to the nurse's office," I declined but she didn't take "No" as an answer.

Dragging me inside of her dorm making me hiss in pain and she apologized. She helps me take off my shoes and bag before guiding me to the couch to lay down.

"Wait here! I'll get some medicine!" She instructed and I nodded.

Going up the stairs, I take out my phone go through Instagram and watched a few Youtube reels to pass the time.

"The fuck?! Why are you in our dorm?!" I heard a dreaded familiar voice and I looked to see the same girl that jumped me.

"N-Natty dragged me in here!" I pleaded and she scoffed.

"Unlikely story, I guess I need to teach you another lesson!" She said before cracking her knuckles.

Right when she was about to punch me in the gut, she was held back by Jisun and she gave her a confused look.

"J-Jisun, what are you doing?! This psycho is in our house!" She said but she shook her head.

"No, Unnie! He is our friend! He's the one I spilled coffee on!" Jisun explained and her eyes widened in horror.

"O-Oh my... I-I am so so sorry! We completely misunderstood! We thought you tried to kidnap her!" She frantically apologized and I chuckled.

"I-It's okay, Noona, I understand you wanted to protect your friend," I forgave her and she sighed in relief.

"Okay, now that's settled, I am Kim Sejeong and I guess you've already met Jisun. The two others are Kwun Eunbi and Park Jihyo, we are third-year students," She introduced herself.

Coming down the stairs, Natty comes to treat my wounds but we keep our conversation secret so as to not start any conflicts.

"Sorry, Y/N but this might sting a little," She warned before applying the alcohol wipes and I hissed.

"Damn, that's strong..." I muttered.

Finishing up bandaging my arm, it was clear she was a nursing student as she did it professionally and I kinda blushed as her boobs were pressing against my shoulder.

"Alright your right arm should be good, now can you please remove your shirt?" She asked and I blushed.

"U-Uhm, what?" I stuttered and she giggled.

"It's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you," She assured.

"Yeah, it's not like anything we haven't seen before," Eunbi said before sipping a cup of tea.

Reluctantly taking off shirt, Natty goes on to treat the bruises on my chest and stomach.

"Damn, you really did a number on yourself, huh?" She asked and I slowly nodded.

"Haha, yeah..." I replied.

Bandaging and applying cream on my bruises and injuries, I had to remain shirtless for the rest of the day.

After more than an hour, Natty finishes up treating my wounds and I thanked her for her help.

"Don't mention it. You mind as well stay here for the night, besides you can't really move around too much. If you need to use the bathroom or shower, just let me know," She instructed and sighed imagining Natty holding my cock while taking a piss.

"Oh, and don't worry, I had to handle plenty of old man dicks in my nursing school," She assured before winking and I gulped.

"Or maybe I can help you~!" Jihyo flirted and I blushed like a tomato making Natty playfully roll her eyes.

"Oh, Jihyo-Unnie, can you please not? You're going to make the poor kid pass out!" She jokingly said and she laughed her ass off.

Opening the door, I was surprised to see Saerom coming inside and she was just as surprised to see me in the dorm.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? And why are you shirtless....?" She asked and Natty rose an eyebrow.

"You two know each other?" She curiously asked and I shyly nodded.

"We have the same calculus class," I answered and she nodded.

"I see, well, no need for introductions then," She mentioned until we heard someone clearing their throat and we turned to see a big curvy ass woman coming down the stairs and staring down at me.

"Now. Now. What do we have here? Natty what have you brought here?" The woman asked.

"Oh, Unnie, this is Y/N, freshmen, I treated his wounds so he needs to stay in our dorm for the night," She explained.

"Well, Y/N, I am Lee Chaerin the eldest of the group but you may call me CL-Noona if that's easier for you. I'll tolerate your presence here for now but by morning you must leave. Understood?" She asked and I frantically nodded.

"Awww~. Unnie, but I want to play with him~!" Sejeong complained and she rolled her eyes.

"Like how you do with every guy you meet?" CL-Noona rebutted and she pouted.

"B-But this one here is cute!" She replied and she sighed before shaking her head.

She signals everyone to gather around to the kitchen, they talk softly so I couldn't hear their conversation. After about a few more mintues of talking they come to me.

"Okay, Y/N, after much discussion, I've come to an compromise here, I'll allow you to move here to our dormitory," She explained and my eyes widened.

"W-What?!" I exclaimed.

"But under one condition..." She paused and I rose an eyebrow.

"What is that?" I asked.

"You must be our pet, our lover, and do everything we tell you to do. Now, you don't have to accept our terms and leave right now but imagine having seven sexy women taking care of you," She explained and I gulped.

Damn, well she isn't wrong, I've always dreamt of having a harem, and having all these busty woman to myself is something I never thought would happen.

After taking some time to contemplate my decision, I agreed with CL-Noona's term and she smiled along with the girls.

"Yay~! Now I can fu- I mean play with him!" Sejeong cheered.

"W-What was that?" I nervously asked.

"Oh, uhm, nothing, puppy~," She assured before pecking my cheek.

Right afterward, my life took a 360 turn, the girls went to my dorm took all my stuff, and moved them here. I noticed that they've been quite comfortable giving me tight hugs and wearing revealing clothing.

Thankfully, I was able to control myself before CL-Noona beats my ass for being a pervert but I have a feeling they want me to get hard.

"Hey puppy~," Saerom whispered and I turned to look at her.

"Hey, Noona," I replied and she pecked my lips.

"Mind answering a question?" She asked and I nodded.

"Which one of us do you like most?" She straightforwardly asked and I gulped as I didn't know how to answer her question.

"I-I don't know, Noona, I like all of you," I nervously answered and she frowned showing her dissatisfaction.

"Aww~. Come on, baby, I know you must like one of us more... Maybe my boobs might change your mind~," She suggested before taking off her shirt revealing her black-laced bra and I blushed at the sight of her mounds.

Suddenly, the door opened and Jisun gasped at the sight of Searom's half-naked self and she immediately pulled her out.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?!" Jisun asked and she giggled.

"I just wanted to know if I'm Y/N's favorite~," She answered and she huffed.

"Oh, really~? Then Y/N, what do you think of these babies~?" She teasingly asked as she takes off her tank top and I saw she wasn't wearing a bra.

"H-Hey~! No fair~!" Saerom whined and takes off her bra leaving them half-naked and my dick started get hard.

Seductively approaching me, they each grabbed my arm and threw me onto the bed and they smothered my face with their massive tits and they giggled.

"He's so cute when flustered~," Saerom complimented before pressing my face into her tits.

"Yeah, but mines are bigger so I can make him more flustered, watch," She proved and smashed her mounds onto my face and I blushed harder making Saerom-Noona scoff.

"What is going on here?" Natty asked as she walked inside with Sejeong and was shocked.

"Ah, you horny girls, why didn't you invite me?" Sejeong complained.

"Well, you can always join us, let's see which one of us has the bigger boobs," Saerom proposed.

"Oh, you're on!" Natty and Sejeong accepted and joined us on the bed.

Sejeong takes off her shirt showing no bra while Natty takes off her hoodie and she wasn't wearing a bra either. Guess girls don't wear bras at home.

Of course, it didn't take long for Jihyo and Eunbi-Noona to join us as well and my God they have some of the biggest boobs I've ever seen in my life.

"Okay, now that we're here... Baby, which pair of boobs do you like best~?" Jihyo-Noona asked before licking her lips.

"U-Uhhhh..." I muttered.

"Come on baby, which one of us?" Jisun whispered in my ear sending chills down my spine.

"I-I cannot choose!" I answered and they sighed.

Suddenly, the door busts open revealing CL and the girls gasped as the eldest walked inside only wearing a white bathrobe. She looks down at each and one of us.

"Girls~. Girls~. Let us remember that each and one of us has a special place in our puppy's heart so it doesn't matter how big our boobs and asses may be. Our puppy will still be loyal to us, isn't that right~?" She asked and I frantically nodded.

"Y-Yes, mummy," I answered and she giggled.

"Good, now let us all enjoy him, tonight~," She said before sexily smirking and the girls agreed.

Saerom goes to take off shirt while Jihyo takes off my pants and underwear revealing my monster 9-inch cock and they licked their lips like a predator eyeing their prey.

"What a big-sized cock you have, puppy, and it's all for us," CL-Noona complimented and began jerking it off making me moan.

"T-Thank you, mummy," I muttered and she giggled.

Starting with Jihyo, she presses her mounds between my cock and bounces up and down making me moan. Her titties felt soft and smooth adding to the pleasure.

"I-It feels so good, Noona~!" I moaned and she hummed.

Each girl had a turn for about ten minutes until they switched out and I had to hand it over to CL-Noona giving me the best boob job and she wasn't too subtle about not being a virgin.

"All of the men, crave for our bodies baby~. You are really lucky to fuck all of us~," CL-Noona said and I nodded.

"Y-Yes, Mommy ~," I moaned out and she smiled.

After they were finished giving me boob jobs they each gave me a sloppy blow job, the feeling of their warm mouths on my cock and balls felt amazing and I could barely hold myself from cumming but I did my best to please my mummies.

"Such a tasty cock, better than my ex," Jisun complimented.

"I know, right?" Natty replied.

"N-Noonas! I-I'm going to cum!" I warned as I couldn't hold it anymore.

Gathering around my cock, I let out my massive load onto their faces letting out satisfying hums as they taste my cum.

"Cum also tastes amazing, we should do this everynight~," Eunbi suggested and they agreed.

"Now, let's get onto the main event, remember, will all get one round of his cum," CL-Noona instructed.

Going first was Natty and she didn't waste any time slamming her pussy onto my cock letting out a loud moan.

"Aww~. Is our baby a virgin~?" She asked and I slowly nodded.

"Y-Yes..." I shyly answered and she smiled.

"Even better," She replied.

"Good, because from now on, our pussies are the only pussy you're ever going to get~," CL-Noona said.

With Natty riding for me the next half hour, we came together and I filled her womb with my cum.

Next up was Jisun, she inserts my dick into her womanhood as Saerom sat on my face forcing me to lick her pussy.

"Oh fuck~! Good boy~!" Saerom yelped as I insert my tongue inside.

"So big~!" Jisun moaned in ecstasy as she slowly began riding me.

Despite not being experienced, I did my absolute best to please them and so far I'm doing good based on how loudly their moaning.

As soon as I let out my load inside Jisun, Saerom takes her position as Jihyo got on my face with her soaking wet pussy and it tasted like watermelon and I'm a huge fan of fruits.

"Ohhhh~! Puppy, I could ride this dick all day if I wanted to~," She screamed as she inserted my cock inside her womanhood.

"Mmm~. Your tongue feels so good puppy~," Jihyo moaned as I insert my tongue.

"You're doing such a good job so far, puppy~," CL-Noona complimented before giggling.

"Puppy, I'm going cum~! You better drink all of it!" Jihyo warned before squirting in my mouth and I drank all of it.

"I'm going to cum too, baby, I want your sticky cum inside my womb~," Saerom pleaded and we came at the same time.

Jihyo took Saerom's place as soon as she made my dick hard again and I was starting to feel sore and tired as I've came several times.

"Tired already baby~? We haven't gotten to the best part yet~," Jihyo said as she jerked my dick back to life and I gulped.

To my surprise, she gets on all fours shaking her ass signalling me to pound her as hard as I could and I got on my knees before shoving my cock inside her pussy making her loudly moan.

"Oh, you naughty boy, you want me that much~?" She teasingly asked.

"Y-Yes, mummy~!" I answered as I began fucking her.

Going in and out, pounding her as fast and hard as I possibly could, Jihyo could loudly moan as her mind was consumed by pleasure. CL-Noona hugs me from behind pressing her boobs on my back along with Eunbi and Jisun.

"Are you close baby~?" Eunbi asked.

"N-Not yet mommy~!" I replied as I kept fucking Jihyo and she smirked.

"Well, do you want to pound my pussy~? I'm just soaking wet from watching and I want your long and thick cock inside of me~," She whispered in my ear.

Picking up the pace, Jihyo began screaming and came a few times before I painted her womb with my cum and she collapsed on the bed all exhausted and I was panting.

"Good boy~. Now it's my turn now and you better fuck just as well as you fucked Jihyo," Eunbi said and I nodded.

"Hey what about me~?" Sejeong whined and she playfully rolled my eyes.

"Think you can take us both~?" Eunbi asked.

"Anything for you," I replied and she smiled.

With both getting on their knees and elbows, I insert my dick into Eunbi's pussy and insert my finger in Sejeong and switched places, fucking them both at the same time.

"Oh God baby~! So Good~!" Sejeong moaned.

"Mmm~. Keep it up and we may cum soon~!" Eunbi said as I pounded her.

Finishing off into Eunbi's pussy, I put my full attention to Sejeong, I places my hands on her tits and play with them while I pounded her.

"Yes baby, our tits are yours only~," Sejeong moaned.

"Why have any man when you have this obedient puppy's dick?" Jisun mentioned.

About ten minutes later, I unloaded my cum inside of her as she squirted all over my dick and CL-Noona pulls my head forcing me to kiss her.

With her having more experience, she easily dominated me and sucked my tongue and we let go when we ran out of breath.

"Now time to see if you can make me cum~," She said and pushed me onto the bed.

Inserting my dick into her pussy, I was astounded at how fucking tight she was compared to the rest. It felt Godly and I can see why so many guys competed for her but all of them never succeeded in getting close to her.

"Oh my fucking God, puppy, your dick is so good~!" She moaned as she roughly rides me and I moaned.

"Your pussy is so heavenly, mummy~," I replied and she smirked.

Speeding up, she began riding me like an angry bull and I held back all temptations to cum letting her enjoy herself.

"I'm so close to cumming baby~! Let's cum together~!" She screamed and I nodded.

At the same time, we came simultaneously and she collapsed onto my chest before pecking my cheek.

"You did amazing, baby~. I never expected you to be able to handle all of us," She complimented.

"Yeah, you did us so well~," Jihyo said before giving me a long smooch.

"You may consider us your actual girlfriends, baby, but at home, we are your mummies~," Eunbi whispered and I gulped.

The rest of the girls hurdled together and I was smothered in an ocean full of titties and it didn't take long for me to fall asleep.

[heartsforvin]

Can you do one where y/n gives vinnie head while he’s streaming🤭

FUN AND GAMES

girl no joke had this idea when i first started writing for vin 😭 thank you for the request !!!

also when is it my turn to give this mf head while he’s streamin ???

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; smut, oral (m receiving), praise, hair pulling, cussing, dirty talk, use of pet names, lmk if i missed anything !!

summary: you can’t help but have a little fun while your boyfriend has his

vinnie was currently streaming while you sat on your shared bed on your phone. he’s been streaming for about an hour now, and you were starting to get bored.

he’d pause here and there and glance over at you, mouthing am ‘i love you’ and saying he’d be done soon. you thought soon would be twenty, maybe thirty minutes.

it wasn’t.

“vinnie,” you whine, extending his name out of dramatics. “how much longer?”

your boyfriend turned his chair to look at you, pushing his headset off his ear a bit so he could hear you.

“a few more minutes, baby.” he told you, you just groaned and laid on the bed.

you laid there for a minute before an idea came into mind. you knew vinnie was also on discord with his friends, which made this idea a bit more fun and exciting.

it’s something you’ve thought about doing for awhile, just trying to find the exact right time to do so.

scooting off the bed, you toss your phone onto it before walking over to vinnie. he feels your arms wrap around him from behind and looks up at you with a smile.

you reciprocate the gesture, moving your hands down his chest as you keep the smile on your face.

he’s about to ask what you’re up to but you beat him to it. before he can speak you’re pushing his chair back a bit to get under his desk.

vinnie can take a hint at what you’re about to do but he just goes on with the stream and talking to everyone.

that is until he feels the cold air hit below his waist. muting himself from everyone, he looks down and sees you with his cock in your hands, stroking him softly.

“hi baby!” you say with the sweetest smile, as if you’re not jerking him off right now.

“the fuck are you doing?” he whispers although he’s muted.

you gesture to his dick which is in your hands as if it isn’t obvious. you giggle as you continue your movements.

he groans as you continue to work your hand up and down him, giving him the sweetest smile.

“got bored, wanted to have some fun while you had yours.” you say.

vinnie stares at you for a minute before he hears one of his friends ask where he is. that’s when he unmutes and replies. “sorry, my girl needed somethin’.”

you smile at him one last time before wrapping your lips around him. vinnie covers his subtle moan as a cough as he continues his stream.

as the stream continues, so do you. you push your legs together to try and rid the ache that’s in between them.

vinnie glances down and notices, a smirk plastered on his face before he says, “you gettin’ horny just by sucking me off? dirty girl.”

you don’t lift off him to respond, just batting your lashes as you bob your head on him.

it takes everything in the boy above you to not let out a sound when he hits the back of your throat. he just quietly groans, hoping no one suspected anything.

your pace quickens and you decide to get at least a bit more of a reaction out of your boyfriend, so you take his balls in your hands and give them a squeeze.

vinnie gives you a daring look, which just makes you smile and continue your previous movements.

you thought that’d get him going but apparently you did nothing. not even him telling you to behave.

as you continue to work your mouth on his cock, your hand moves up and down around the base as you do.

suddenly you feel vinnie snake his arm around you and grab your hair, making a makeshift ponytail.

he thrusts his hips harshly, making his cock hit the back of your throat again as you gag.

“look at you,” he whispers. “takin’ my cock like such a good girl. aren’t you, baby?” he asks.

you don’t respond, which earns you a tug to your hair. “asked you a question, princess,” he rasps as you continue to work on him. “are you my good girl.”

the praise goes straight through your head and you moan around him in response, hoping that’ll be enough to satisfy him.

it does, and he returns the noise as he thrusts into your mouth again.

quickly muting himself, he turns his gaze back to you and looks down at the sight in front of him.

he doesn’t care if anyone catches on as to what might be going on, all he cares about is the feeling of your lips around him, making him feel oh, so good.

“gonna cum, pretty,” he moans when he feels the familiar feeling in his lower belly. “where you want it, baby?”

all you do is moan around him as you continue to bob your head and jerk him at the same time.

he takes that as a response and before he can tell you he’s cumming, you’re feeling the warm liquid run down your throat.

you pull off him with a smile, feeling proud of yourself. vinnie smiles at you in return as he moves his hand from your hair to your lips to catch some of the liquid on your lips.

“open,” he says before you open your mouth and he sticks his finger inside. “good girl.”

once you regain strength, you crawl out from out of the desk as vinnie tries his best to pull his boxers and shorts back on.

once he does, he hears his friends asking questions as to why you just came out from under the desk.

he’s definitely not hearing the end of it anytime soon, but it was definitely worth it.

hey yall !!!! i loved this one SO much and i bet all of you are going to, too (:

first time i’ve felt like writing after i get off work 🥲

thank you to the anon who requested !! i hope you loved it and it lived up to your expectations <33

tags: @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @forevergirlposts , @louloulemons-blog , @lovingsturniolo , @leqonsluv3r , @bernelflo , @visualbutterflysworld , @st4rswrld , @laylasbunbunny , @violet0182 , @supabhad , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @kayleighh , @0strawberrysorbet0

[iamnotoriginalphil]

The Halloween Party (Lydia Deetz x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Your friend abandons you at a Halloween party. Luckily for you, you find someone far more interesting to spend the night with.

Words: 4k

Warnings: biting, blood, marking, smut, drug use mentioned, hair pulling, rough sex, mentions of alcohol

The lights and the music were overwhelming. With the tight corset binding your waist and the heels on your feet, you were trying not to look as uncomfortable as you felt. You should have never let your friend convince you to come to the party. You certainly shouldn’t have let her dress you up in something she deemed sexy before abandoning you with to a bunch of strangers.

You didn’t even know whose house you were in.

You perused the snack table, chuckling at the plastic spiders scattered over the bright orange table cloth. Snatching up a handful of chips, you turned, taking in the crowd. Bodies writhed together in time to the music, flashing lights illuminating flashes of skin here, groping hands there. Your cup of red liquid sloshed in your hand as you pushed to the edges of the room, looking for somewhere quieter to perch until you could leave.

The garden was quieter, although hardly empty. Someone had started a small fire, the scent of burning sugar making its way to your nose. Lingering on the outskirts, you curled around it, shivering in the cool air. You were too far for the light and heat to find you, watching the flames flicker between shoulders pressed together and cigarettes being passed from hand to hand. Cloves and smoke and weed, all mixing together with the sharp sweetness of marshmallows burning as they slid off sticks under inattentive cooks.

You lent back against a tree, keeping to the shadows, enjoying the sting of cold air on your bare skin. You tilted your chin up, taking a deep breath that burned your lungs, the stars twinkling high above you, the moon almost new.

“Not your crowd?”

You tried not to show how startled you were. You’d wrongly assumed you were the only one skulking in the shadows, leaving the revelry for the people who had wanted to be at the party. Turning your head, glancing down, you found a pale face full of flickering shadow, the light from the fire playing over it, still staring at the group of people laughing. Dark hair and darker clothes, if anyone belonged to the night, it was this woman.

“Not particularly,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

“Why are you here then?” she asked.

“A friend needed moral support,” you replied, “is this the moment when you tell me this is your party?”

“Fuck no,” she laughed, “my ex thought I needed to get out more.”

“Your ex dragged you to a party?” you asked.

“No. He agreed to take our daughter for the night so I could come. It’s my producer’s party,” she replied.

You considered her a moment. She tipped her head back, leaning it against the rough bark of the tree. A flicker of familiarity went through you but you couldn’t place from where. Like a half remembered dream you’d had once many years ago.

“So why are you hiding from everyone?” you asked.

With face half in shadow, her dark eyes found you, leaving you a little breathless. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the ache of the heels pinching at your toes more a nuisance than anything else. Even in dark she was undoubtably beautiful.

“Who said I’m hiding?” she asked.

“You’re skulking in the shadows. Is there another reason if you’re not hiding?” you asked.

“I suppose not,” she said, her gaze drifting away from you again.

You kept looking down at her, wanting to catch another glimpse of pale skin, dark eyes, lips curling in a scornful smile. She was still staring out at the group by the fire, a guitar having been pulled from seemingly nowhere, the soft chords so discordant with each other. Her nose wrinkled and you had to bite back a laugh. Even her disgruntled expression was compelling.

“Why aren’t you with your friend?” she asked after a few moments of silence.

“What?” you asked, blinking back to the moment.

“You said you came with a friend who needed moral support but now you’re here on your own. What happened?” she asked.

“Oh.” You perked up, “the moral support worked and uh, she abandoned me to go talk to Rick.”

“Rick? Why would she want to talk to Rick?” she asked.

“She called it networking but… I dunno. Do you ever get the feeling that someone is speaking the same language as you but with different meanings?”

You shifted your body, turning it towards her, shoulder resting against the tree. Her head rolled towards you, finally looking at you again. It sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the chilled night air.

“She’s fucking Rick to increase her chances of being in one of his projects,” she said.

“Yeah, which is not how I network but then.” You shrugged, “I don’t work in this industry.”

“You don’t?” Her interest in you seemed to increase.

“I’m in tech,” you replied.

Her interest immediately retreated again. A pang of disappointment went through you.

“I write a lot of code. I test firewalls for companies. Like a contractor. I get to hack into people’s websites,” you said.

That usually impressed people. Usually being the operative word. She couldn’t have cared less.

“So, I guess I just have to wait around until she’s done,” you said, hoping that would get a response.

“Shouldn’t take long,” she snorted.

“Do you… do you know that from personal experience?” you asked.

The look she gave you was so full of disgust you reared back. She didn’t bother trying to school her features, those eyes sweeping over you with a judgemental eye.

“Why are you wearing that?” she asked, derision dripping from every word, “I would have expected your friend was hoping you’d be the honey pot in her plan looking like that.”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t really come with a costume so… she dressed me in her clothes for the party,” you said, looking down at your body.

The tight corset nipping in your waist, the short skirt, the lace showing off your skin more than you were used to, you could understand what she meant. Wrapped up so pretty, and without a bow. You’d had plenty of interested looks as you’d lingered on the outskirts of the crowd. Too bad none of them had enticed you.

And the only one you had was looking at you like you were…

“What are you meant to be?” she asked.

“I’m told I’m a witch, but we didn’t have the hat so I guess it’s a pretty bad costume,” you said, “why? What are you meant to be?”

Your eyes lingered on her. She was hardly in anything you recognised.

“Nothing. I didn’t bother with the costume. My ex is the whiz at all that. I only promised to leave the house for something other than work,” she waved off.

“So this is just how you normally dress?” you asked, eyes doing another sweep over her body.

“Why?” she asked in response.

“It’s cool,” you said.

She seemed to not have an answer to that. She settled back against the trunk of the tree, staring out at the group that had moved on to singing off key but enthusiastically. You sighed, slowly sinking down until you were sitting too. Taking the pressure off your toes, you groaned, tugging the shoes off to massage the sole of your foot.

“Those things are death traps,” she said.

“I’m not exactly enjoying any element of this outfit,” you said.

Her low chuckle was only audible because you were sitting right by her.

“At least it looks good on you,” she said.

“Oh.” It appears as if you were forgiven for your misstep, “thanks.”

“I’m sure Rick would prefer I dress more like that,” she said, “I had to compromise in the end.”

“Why? You look good in what you’re wearing now,” you said.

She turned to look at you, a slow drag of eyes that made you shiver again.

“Call it the misogyny of the entertainment industry, or the creeps who need to want to fuck the woman to pay attention to them, but sex sells,” she said, “I put on the costume and I do the work and I thank them for the opportunity.”

“It doesn’t sound like you like your job that much,” you said.

“It has its upsides,” she said, offering you a small smile, “I get to be on television.”

“I wouldn’t want that. I’ve always felt awkward when a camera is pointed at me,” you said.

She hummed but didn’t give you more of an answer. Her eyes were studying you and you let her, giving her the space to stare at you to her heart’s content. You liked the thought of being looked at by this woman.

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” she eventually said.

“Nope.” You popped the p obnoxiously, but smiled to let her know you weren’t making fun of her.

“Lydia.”

She offered you her hand. You took it, the warmth of her skin almost burning yours. Your name fell from your lips, almost breathless from the feeling of her palm against yours. Her lips quirked up, not quite a smirk, but something approaching it. You couldn’t get a read on her, so aloof from the rest of the gathering and yet you had to wonder if she kept away for another reason. People pushing you to go socialise usually meant one of two things. Either you were some kind of hermit who refused to leave the house, or you didn’t like going to social gatherings. Which spoke to something else usually. The moment spun out for longer than you’d been expecting.

“You don’t know Ghost House?” she asked, finally letting your hand go.

“Sorry,” you said, shrugging, “I’m not much of a television person.”

She made a soft sound and lent back again, slightly closer than you were expecting, her shoulder brushing yours. You tucked your feet underneath you, letting yourself gently tip towards her, wanting more of her touch. With both of your faces turned towards the fire, it was easy to pretend like it was purely a coincidence. That you didn’t feel like she was a black hole, drawing you in with little more than a moment of her attention, dark eyes assessing you. Why did you want it to be a positive assessment?

“Do you think they understand how tragic they are?” she asked.

“I think they’re drunk and high,” you replied.

Her laugh was throaty, raspy, like a ghostly finger stroked along the length of your spine. She rose, not quite as elegant as you’d imagined, and yet your stomach dropped with disappointment.

“Are you coming?” she asked, turning to look at you over her shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you said, scrabbling to your feet.

You followed her on bare feet, past the tree, further into the shadows of the garden. It opened up farther, more expansive than you’d first thought. She seemed confident in the direction she’d chosen, striding through the darkness.

“Rick likes to think he’s sophisticated because he buys art but he has no eye. After all, he has one of Delia’s pieces around here somewhere,” she said.

“Delia?” you asked.

“Delia Deetz,” she said, pausing for a moment to let you catch up, “you really don’t know anything about me or my family.”

She seemed pleased by that. You offered her a small smile, feeling better about where this was going now. Any misstep had been passed over, leaving a warmth growing in your stomach.

“I’ll show it to you,” she said, reaching out to grasp your hand and tug you behind her.

She wound her way past one statue after another, growing further and further from the lights and sound of the party. The cool night air and the silence was appreciated, exactly what you’d been looking for when you’d slipped outside. Her hand was warm in yours, chasing away the chill that threatened to sink into your bones.

“Isn’t it just horrific?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of something you couldn’t conceptualise.

It was spiky and abstract and not like anything you’d ever willingly seek out to look at. You titled your head, trying to understand what you were looking at. Nose wrinkling, you shook your head, giving up on trying.

“I know art is subjective but I really don’t get this,” you said, “I wouldn’t pay money for it.”

A warm hand landed on your cheek, turning your head, chapped lips landing on yours. You gasped, startled, not sure if that was what she’d meant to do. She pressed closer, more insistent, teeth nipping at your lip until you kissed her back.

Her hands were gripping your cheeks while yours slid around her waist. She was so warm under your touch, so soft, so supple. The way she kissed you was like she was trying to possess you, to own you, and you were willing to give her what she wanted. You hadn’t expected this turn of events, your hope nothing but a pipe dream, or so you’d thought.

Her tongue was in your mouth, fingers digging in, rough and harsh and so perfect it made your head spin. You were making small noises, muffled by her mouth, almost begging her for more. It only made her kiss you harder. She tasted of cigarette smoke and sugar, dreams of something dark and dangerous at the edge of the moment.

She dragged you down to the grass, ignoring the damp collecting on the blades in the cold night. She straddled your body, knees either side of your hips, pressing in to keep you pinned underneath her. You whimpered when she trailed her lips over your skin, teeth scraping before sinking in at the junction of your shoulder and your neck. The noise you made was embarrassing in its wantonness. Her tongue soothed over it but you knew there would be a bruise there tomorrow. Or maybe later today. You’d lost track of time.

Her hands shoved under the skirt of the dress you’d been forced into, nails dragging over the vulnerable skin of your inner thigh. Your legs parted, falling open to give her more access. Her teeth were still making a home on your skin, lips trailing over whatever bare skin they could find. Sinking in at the soft skin over your heart, the flesh of one breast pushed up from the tight corset digging into your ribs. Her name was a gasp before it devolved into a filthy moan.

She shifted, fingers pressing at the throbbing between your legs. Your hips rose, meeting her touch, asking for more. Pushing your underwear to the side, you sighed at the feeling of her hand on you, no barriers in place, nothing but skin against your slick heat.

Pinned in the damp grass, skirt hiked up around your waist, beautiful woman on top of you, your night had significantly improved. Your fingers had found their way into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging on it as her fingers swept through your folds. Wetness gathered on her fingertip, she was rough on your clit. The high whine from the back of your throat only seemed to spur her on. Her teeth sunk in deeper, right over your heart, a soft growl coming from her.

When her fingers plunged into you, you cried out, arching up into her mouth. She wasn’t soft with you, no longer exploring as her fingers thrust into you. Your hips met her hand, a strangled noise coming from your lips when her palm ground against your clit. You were panting, the electricity in your bloodstream all consuming. You’d never felt more alive than you did, there in the grass, abstract statue looming over the shoulder of the woman with her mouth on your body and her fingers inside you. Clutching at her, you rode her hand as hard as you could.

When your orgasm hit, it rushed over you. Your inner muscles clenched around her fingers, almost strangling them while your fingers tightening in her hair until you were pulling on it. Your hips were pressing up into her, seeking out every drop of pleasure you could find. It had never felt this intense before, this good. You wanted more of it.

“Fuck,” she growled into the skin of your neck.

Her hand retracted from between your legs, glistening with your arousal in what little light there was. Her tongue dragged over her skin, cleaning herself up. It was the single hottest thing you’d ever seen, which was saying a lot given what you’d been doing only moments before. Her dark eyes watched you with every lap of her tongue. You felt boneless and fucked and so turned on. Whoever this woman was, whatever her damage was, you wanted more.

Her leg swung around and she sat beside your splayed body. Wiping her hand on her skirt, she stared up at the statue in front of her, menacing in the shadows.

“Sorry about that,” she said, “I’m sort of going through something.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” you replied, slowly sitting too.

She looked over at you, a smile flirting with her lips.

“I suppose you’re not.”

Her eyes dipped down and something on her face changed. Her hand reached over, hovering before it made contact with your skin.

“Sorry about that.”

You looked down, finding a stark bite mark on the skin of your breast. Your thumb wiped away a drop of blood from the wound.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, “it was kind of hot, actually.”

“You’re being surprisingly calm about this,” she said.

“A beautiful woman just ravished me in a garden. It’s the stuff dreams are made of,” you said with a small shrug and a smile.

She shook her head but didn’t disagree with you. The cool night air washed over you. You shivered. She shuffled closer, arm pressing to yours, her warmth seeping into you. You lent against her.

“So who is Delia?” you asked, staring at the statue.

“My step mother,” she replied.

“You don’t like her?” you asked.

“It’s complicated,” she said, “I don’t hate her. It’s just…”

“Complicated,” you said, nodding.

You sat in silence for a while longer. You wanted to reach out, to taste her, to know what she sounded like as she came. You thought she might not want that. She’d been so quick to put space between the two of you after your earth shattering orgasm. Even leaning on her, you weren’t sure she was completely comfortable with the casual touch.

“You are alive, right?” she asked after the silence had settled over you.

“What?” you laughed.

“Just tell if you’re actually alive or not,” she demanded turning to look at you.

“I’m not like a zombie or a ghost,” you said, still laughing.

The way she was looking at you had the laughter die on your lips. She was serious. Deadly so. You blinked. Her gaze was lingering, open and wide and vulnerable. Your heart clenched.

You grasped her hand, pressing it to your heart. Her palm moulded to the curve of your body as she pressed down. The sting of pain was worth it when her shoulders relaxed at the feeling of your heartbeat.

“See?” you murmured, “alive.”

She sat there, her hand on your chest, dark eyes watching as your chest expanded with every inhale. You let her, not sure what she was going through but letting yourself be there.

“Sorry,” she said, “sometimes it can get…”

“Get?” you prompted when you weren’t sure she was going to continue.

“Overwhelming,” she said, “that’s why I have a show. I can talk to ghosts.”

“Oh,” you said, not sure what to make of that, “cool.”

“You’re not going to tell me I’m crazy?” she asked.

You considered her for a moment.

“Nah. There’s enough out there we can’t explain that I’m not willing to dismiss anything yet,” you replied, “it’s not crazy to experience the world differently from me.”

Her hand tightened on your skin, the pain causing a hiss to fall from your lips. She looked down, flipping her palm to find your blood smeared over her skin. She brought it to her mouth, licking your blood away, holding eye contact with you.

A shot of pleasure went right between your thighs.

“You should probably go find your friend,” she said, ignoring how breathless you were.

“If she’s not still busy with Rick,” you said.

“She won’t be,” she said.

“She definitely won’t have had as good a time at this party as I have,” you said, smirking over at her.

“Come on.”

She stood, holding out a hand to you. You let her pull you to your feet, staggering into her body. Her fingertips were soft as they brushed over the apple of your cheek, lingering for a moment before putting more space between your bodies.

You followed her back to the party. The singing had only grown louder, the words slurred and indistinct, a wall of noise you weren’t interested in. You paused for a moment, scooping up the heels abandoned at the foot of the tree, Lydia lingering with you.

“I think I’ll return home now,” she said, almost absentmindedly, “Richard left candy when he picked up Astrid.”

“Pop on a horror movie and relax,” you said with a small laugh.

“Exactly.”

Looking at her, you could imagine she would be the exact kind of woman to relax to a good slasher movie. Something about her spoke to the darker side of things, the strange, the unusual. You liked it.

Your friend was in the doorway, staring out at the backyard, eyes searching. They alighted on you, relaxing before a look of surprise passed over her face. As you stepped into the circle of light spilling out of the house, her mouth fell open.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

“You mean after you abandoned me?” you replied, “I made a friend.”

Her eyes dragged from you to Lydia, still at your side for reasons you hadn’t yet worked out. Your friend’s eyes widened and she seemed speechless. Not an easy feat, if you were being honest.

“Are you done? Can we go now?” you asked her.

“Uh… yeah, sure,” she said, still looking to Lydia.

“Great.” You turned to Lydia, “if you need to work through more shit, come find me.”

“I might just take you up on that,” she said, the corner of her lips curling up in a smile.

You reached out, brushing your fingertips over the apple of her cheek, a mirror image of the softness she’d shown you earlier. Her hand caught yours, pressing her lips to the centre of your palm before she let you go.

You grasped your friend’s elbow and steered her towards the front door. The house spat you onto a dark driveway, empty and long, the perfect setting for a horror movie ending to the night. After all, you’d sex. That was, like, horror movie 101.

“Did you seriously fuck Lydia Deetz?” your friend asked in a hiss of a whisper.

“Well…” you said, thinking over it.

“You know she’s a total con artist, right? She tells people she talks to ghosts,” she said, a judgemental edge to her tone.

“She told me,” you said.

“And you still fucked her?” she asked.

“Yeah, I did.” You jutted out your chin, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at her.

“Didn’t know you were into that freaky shit,” she said, eyes trailing down to the wound on your chest.

“Hey, I don’t judge you for sleeping with some slimy producer. Don’t judge me for what I get up to,” you said.

“Fine,” she said, “but you’re not really going to see her again, are you?”

“I hope I do,” you said.

And when the phone rang, you jumped at the chance to help her work through more of her shit.

[totowlff]

a monegasque horror story

➝ in the sun-soaked streets of monaco, you cross paths with a mysterious man named toto. drawn to each other by a shared love of classic cars, you quickly form an intimate bond, but beneath toto's charismatic exterior lies a web of secrets. as your relationship deepens, you discovers a chilling truth: toto isn't who he claims to be.

➝ word count: 2,9k

➝ warnings: mentions of death

➝ author’s note: i wrote this one shot for a little competition in the wolff pack server in discord. maybe it's a different tone that you are used to read here, but i hope you enjoy it!

It was a warm summer night in Monaco when you saw him for the first time. He was standing next to your car, looking at it closely. It wasn't unusual for the vehicle to attract attention, especially considering the model, which was only produced for a short period in the 1950s. After a few moments of silent observation, you cleared your throat.

— Is there a problem?

He lifted his head toward you, a shy smile appearing on his lips. In the dim light from a nearby streetlamp, you could swear he was blushing.

— Oh, well, no — the man stammered — Is it yours?

— Yes, it is.

Running a hand through his hair, he seemed a bit flustered, which was funny considering how imposing his presence appeared.

— A 1955 300 SL, right?

— That's right — you said, still feeling a bit tense in your shoulders — Have you seen one before?

— I had one — the man replied — Silver, with an all-red leather interior, a true work of art.

You nodded, agreeing with him. That was definitely your favorite car out of all the ones you'd ever owned, not just for the design, but for its personal meaning.

— I like it too. It was a gift…

— Oh, so it has sentimental value as well — he smiled, causing you to smile back. In your chest, you felt something different, but not uncomfortable. A kind of strange calm.

— Yes, my dad gave it to me when I moved here.

— So, you live around here? Not long, right? I’d remember seeing you, especially with a car like that…

— Yeah, not long. Just last month, actually.

— Ah, that explains it. By the way, what’s your name?

— Y/N — you replied, walking toward the driver's door and opening it — Well, I have to go…

— You can call me Toto — the man said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans — See you around, Y/N.

Your second encounter with the man — Toto, as he’d introduced himself — was at a café on Plage du Larvotto, just over a week later. You had parked out front and were watching the movement on the boardwalk in front of the beach when a familiar voice called your name. Turning, you found him standing there, wearing the same white shirt and the same smile on his lips.

— Good morning, Y/N — Toto said, approaching you — What a coincidence seeing you here…

You shifted slightly in your chair, a small smile on your face.

— Well, it’s one of the most popular cafés in Monaco, isn’t it?

— True, but I thought you preferred quieter places. At least, that was the impression I got from the restaurant you were at that day — he replied, in a good-humored tone — But maybe I got it wrong…

— No, actually, you're right. But the coffee here is good enough to deal with all this movement.

Toto laughed, resting his hands on the back of the chair in front of you.

— It is, I really like this place. I used to come here a lot with my friend Flavio.

You raised an eyebrow.

— You don’t come here anymore?

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before smiling again.

— Not as often. But maybe I'll start coming again — Toto replied — I have a good reason now.

His words made your cheeks warm. You weren’t the shy type, but something about having a man like him focus on you made you feel different.

Special, that was the word.

The casual encounters around town soon turned into an invitation to dinner at a small restaurant in Port de Fontvieille. Of course, the night had its hiccups, like the maître d’ claiming there was no reservation in Toto Wolff’s name, which meant you had to wait almost an hour for a table.

However, nothing made you feel less excited about getting to know the man in front of you. Between sips of wine — which Toto politely declined — and bites of Parma ham bruschettas, he told you more about his life, his passion for cars, and how he almost became a race car driver.

— Clearly, I didn’t have the talent for it, so…

— So, you just stayed a spectator? — you suggested.

— Exactly — he answered, giving you a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

After dinner, you drove him back to Monte Carlo in your car — something that might seem unconventional, but perfectly appropriate considering you had met because of it — feeling a certain anxiety. You had never gone out with anyone since arriving in Monaco, making the whole situation feel brand new to you.

And the exact opposite for Toto.

— Well, here we are — you said, parking in front of Plage du Larvotto, where you’d met him earlier that evening.

— Yeah, we are — he replied, resting a hand dangerously close to your leg, exposed by the edge of your dress. That simple proximity sent a shiver through your skin, anticipation crackling at the back of your neck.

— You sure you don’t want me to drop you at your house?

— No, no need, I don’t want to take you out of your way…

— I don’t mind — you quickly replied — Besides, it means I can spend more time with you, right?

The corner of Toto’s mouth curled into an almost mischievous smile, his fingertips brushing against your thigh.

— How about spending the rest of the night with me, then?

That was the first time you had taken someone to your place after a date. It was also the first time you had slept with someone after a first date. And, even though every code of conduct and feminine etiquette said you shouldn’t, you couldn’t resist the desire to feel his touch against your skin.

The next morning, you woke up in Toto’s arms, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin. His calm breathing and the relaxed expression on his face made you certain there was no better place in the world to be than right there, in that bed, beside him.

— Good morning — he murmured, his voice husky with sleep — Did you sleep well?

— Good morning, yes, I did. And you?

— It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years — Toto chuckled, pulling you closer — I think I’ll start sleeping here with you every night.

— I wouldn’t mind — you replied, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

And so it happened. That same week, Toto began sleeping at your place almost every night. Though, of course, his presence wasn’t exactly well received by your neighbors, who seemed to find it strange that a man suddenly appeared by your side. Maybe it was the fact that he was older or made little jokes in your ear that made you laugh loudly, which provoked suspicious whispers and disapproving glances.

— Let them look — Toto would say, kissing your forehead after you spent long minutes venting about how one of the neighbors suggested you see a psychiatrist to “deal with the man you were seeing” — Let them think what they want. What matters is what you think, right?

— Yes — you replied, nodding.

— And what do you think?

— That you’re the man of my life.

A smile of approval appeared on Toto’s lips. However, in the back of your mind, the voice of your neighbor still echoed in your ears. The concern in her eyes was burned into your memory, as if she knew something you didn’t about the man lying next to you.

Staring at the way Toto’s chest gently rose and fell, you felt like you were standing in front of an incomplete puzzle, with pieces that had gone missing. He was a good man, polite, sincere, no doubt about it. But the gaps in the story he had told you were too glaring to ignore.

Where did he live? What did he do for work? Where was his family from? Why didn’t he like having meals with you? How many white monogrammed shirts did he have? Why didn’t he have a phone?

Theories raced through your mind at an absurd speed. Maybe he was hiding from someone or from some organization. Maybe he had done something terrible and needed to keep a low profile. Had he killed someone? No, Toto wasn’t that type of person; he had always been so kind to you…

It was those questions that led you to type his full name into your work computer, your fingers trembling against the keyboard. The page took a few seconds to load images of Toto at luxurious events, accompanied by the last words you expected to read.

“Search for missing businessman called off.”

You clicked on the headline, hesitant. "This is impossible," you thought to yourself, your stomach churning.

In the article, the journalist wrote that, after a month of searching the Mediterranean Sea, the Monaco police had called off the operation, citing the strong coastal currents and the low likelihood of recovering the body.

The following paragraph was dedicated to Toto, referred to only as Christian Wolff, and his life. According to the article, he was a successful Austrian businessman whose investments in technology companies had made him a billionaire. Charismatic, he was a prominent figure in Monegasque society, along with his wife, Susie, and their son, Jack.

The discovery that the man you had been sleeping with for months was married with a young child made you want to vomit. Closing the page, you stood up from your desk and, with your bag over your shoulder, furiously drove back to your apartment, tears streaming down your face.

You wouldn’t be “the other woman.” You refused to be her.

When you opened the door, you found him sitting on the couch, reading a book. Upon seeing you, a wide smile appeared on his face.

— Ah, meine kleine! — Toto said, putting the book down on the cushion — You got back early…

— I left earlier — you managed to say, your voice trembling. You wanted to confront him, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could feel was the sensation of having been deceived all that time, of being just a toy. That realization made more tears run down your face, causing his smile to fade.

— Are you crying? Y/N, what happened?

— You lied to me.

His posture stiffened.

— Lied?

— Of course! — you shouted — You’re married!

— Y/N…

— Worse, you faked your own disappearance so no one would find you — you continued yelling, your sobs becoming deeper — You did it to restart your life with a new identity! You abandoned your family, you piece of shit!

Toto pressed his lips into a thin line.

— You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.

— Don’t I? — you asked, in an ironic tone — How do I not know? I read it, Toto, I saw your pictures with her, with your son! You have a son, a wife, and you’re fucking another woman…

— I had! — he shouted, making you stop, your cheeks completely wet. Your breathing was shaky, as were your hands — I had, Y/N.

— What do you mean? — you stammered, sniffing — What are you talking about?

Toto stared at you for long seconds, as if trying to find the best way to explain it all. In your mind, you believed it was just a lousy excuse, a way for him to buy time to get away with it. "Typical scoundrel behavior", you thought to yourself, clenching your fists.

— Y/N, I had a family — he began, slowly approaching you — I had a wife, Susie, and a son with her, Jack. They were the people I loved most in the world, Y/N. I don’t think I ever loved anyone more than those two.

Your bottom lip trembled, your eyes filling with tears again. How could he say he loved them and betray them like that? How could he be so cynical?

— But they — Toto hesitated, placing his hands on his face. The words wouldn’t leave his mouth, as if they were too difficult to say. After a few seconds, he exhaled deeply — I can’t, Y/N.

— Can’t? What are you talking about?

— I need to show you, Y/N — he replied, his eyes full of sadness — You need to come with me.

An incredulous laugh escaped your lips.

— I’m not going anywhere with you, Toto. You lied to me, deceived me — you replied, anger seeping into your words, along with the tears.

— Please, you’ll understand, let me show you — Toto begged, desperation evident in his tone and the way his hands held your face — You need to hear me, Y/N. Please, meine kleine.

You couldn’t process anything after he called you by the affectionate nickname he had given you. Maybe it was his tone, or simply the desire to end all of this, that made you give a small nod, agreeing to let Toto take you to the place where everything would finally be revealed.

The drive was a blur. The curves of the French Riviera were blurred by your tears, but you held back the urge to sob. Until the car pulled over, the engine silencing, leaving only your breathing in the air. Wiping your eyes, you realized where you were; it was a spot where tourists usually stopped to take poetic pictures of the Mediterranean and the setting sun.

But at that moment, there was no poetry to be found.

Standing before the horizon, you heard Toto’s footsteps on the gravel. When he placed a hand on your arm, your skin tingled.

— Y/N — he murmured, his tone tense.

— Did you bring me here to try and convince me to keep being your mistress? To continue ignoring your family? — you retorted, staring into the void ahead. You knew that if you looked at Toto, you would start crying again. However, he didn’t back down, nor did he reproach you for the harsh tone.

— No, Y/N. I brought you here to tell you everything you need to know about me.

— There’s more I need to know besides what I already know?

— Yes — Toto said seriously — And the first is that Susie and Jack are dead.

You blinked, showing no reaction.

— They died five years ago in a car accident. Susie was driving back from the airport with Jack; they had gone to Scotland to visit her family. She lost control of the car and it flipped — he continued — They died instantly, there was no time to save them.

You stared at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he might be lying, but all you found was sincerity.

— So, they’re not here?

— No. They’ve been gone for a long time, Y/N.

— Did they die here?

— No — Toto answered seriously — I died here.

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening. Taking a step back, you were sure you had misheard. He couldn’t have said he died; it couldn’t be true. How could he be dead if he was standing right in front of you, breathing and full of pain in his eyes?

— What...

— I couldn’t bear living without them. I couldn’t handle the emptiness they left behind, Y/N. I wanted to see them again, so I took that car — he said, pointing to your car — And I came here.

— You jumped?

Toto nodded, stepping closer to you. The coastal wind tousled his hair, while the sun made his brown eyes gleam. How could he be dead when he was standing there, so alive and real in front of you?

— But you survived — you stammered.

— No. My body is trapped in a tangle of seaweed inside a cave down there. No one ever found me, despite the searches.

Your mind couldn’t process it; it felt completely surreal.

— But you’re here, standing right in front of me…

— Because I’m trapped, Y/N. Since no one found me, I’m stuck in this world, unable to move on, unable to reunite with my family.

— Toto — you murmured, tears streaming down your cheeks.

— You were the first person to see me since that day, Y/N — he said, caressing your face — I didn’t realize how much I needed to be seen until that day. You made me feel joy, hope…

— But you’re not here, Toto. You’re not, you’re not — you kept repeating, through sobs — I’m crazy, those people were right, I’m crazy.

— You’re not crazy, Y/N.

You stepped back, sniffling.

— How am I not, Toto? You don’t exist, you’re not here, I shouldn’t be able to see you!

— But you do, you hear me, you make me feel alive again — he said — You’re my salvation.

— I can’t…

Once again, he approached you, placing his hands on your face. They were strangely warm and comforting, despite belonging to a dead man. That word sent a shiver down your spine. Dead, he was a dead man. He had never been there, despite you seeing him.

— You can, meine kleine, I know you can. Trust me.

Feeling your heart pounding heavily in your chest, you simply nodded. You could, you were the one who could save him. You were the one who would save him.

Only you.

SEARCH FOR YOUNG WOMAN SOLVES ANOTHER COLD CASE

Monaco police announced today that the body found during the search for Y/N Y/L/N is that of Christian Wolff, an Austrian businessman and billionaire who lived in the principality. Wolff, who had been missing for about four years, was located in a rocky formation near Cap-d'Ail. Authorities stated that the discovery was an unexpected development in the search for Y/L/N, who remains missing.

The billionaire, known for his ventures in the financial sector, had mysteriously disappeared, sparking speculation about his whereabouts. The police have reopened the case and are now investigating the circumstances of his death; at the time, criminal involvement was ruled out as his car, a 1955 300 SL, was found near the location where he was last seen.

Authorities also confirmed that the search for Y/N Y/L/N continues, with the hope of finding her alive.

[scnderlands]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ON COLD NIGHTS — jiyan. wuwa

CONTENT WARNINGS + TAGS — sfw, unedited drabble, mdni, nightmares, hints at possible trauma, typical fighting TD’s, mentions of blood and fire, war etc. all lower caps

AUTHORS NOTES — I basically woke up in a cold sweat to write this, no editing or nothing, I couldn’t stop thinking about jiyans story when reading it after unlocking it and now I wanna make this a bigger fic??? but for now it’ll be a drabble of sorts

the sound of the crackling fire surrounded him, the heat burning and melting his flesh, the heat and smoke blinding him. tacet discords plagued the jinzhou as far as he could see, and they constantly fed on the frequencies of his fallen comrades.

beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and made his hair stick to his flushed skin. his breath was ragged and heavy, but there was no time for him to stop and try to regain his composure. wave after wave of TD’s came at him and each time he swung and struck them down with ease.

time and time again, he ignored the faces of his dead friends and soldiers, his only thought being that of protecting the city — he couldn’t let it fall, even if it meant falling himself.

the flames raged on, and so did he. running through the chaos and striking down anything that came near him. jiyan noticed how the screams and crackles faded away, replaced with voices of those he knew.

“that’s a clueless kid! how can we trust him with our lives?”

“you said you would protect us…but why?”

he continued fighting, trying to keep the voices at bay, but they surrounded him, suffocated him.

“jiyan, what on earth are you fighting for?”

he let out a loud scream as he fought, with every hit and cut he took, he took down two more enemies. he was bloody, tears rolled down his cheeks but he knew he couldn’t stop. his body hurt more than he thought possible, his limbs so heavy that he swore at any moment he’d sink into the ground, swallowed up by the earth to never be seen again.

his knuckles turned white from the grip he had on his spear, using it as leverage to push himself back to his feet. and that’s when he heard it, a gentle, distant voice muttering his name. he looked around but couldn’t see where it was coming from, but the voice enveloped him in a sense of safety, security. it was like it wrapped around him and protected him from the oncoming slaughter of monsters and unsavoury voices.

“jiyan…” he jolted awake, unable to catch his breath, sweat dripping from every part of him.

“what am i fighting for?” he whispered to himself as he held his head in his hands.

your hand rubbed up and down his back gently, not wanting to scare him anymore than he already was.

“are you okay?” your voice was quiet and you leant down to try and find his eyesight.

he nodded but you could tell it was hesitant, he was lying but he didn’t want you to know. he didn’t have the heart to tell you how often he was plagued by that nightmare, how many times he’d awoken in the middle of the night in a panic and drenched in his own sweat. but you knew, you could tell.

“you know what? let’s go for a walk…” you wrapped your hand around his and tugged at it, urging him to stand up and come with you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I think I’ll just—“

“jiyan, come on, just trust me, okay?” he sighed as you spoke and glanced up at you with heavy and tired eyes, but he obliged, how could he not?

the both of you left his tent and walked away from the camp, your hand never leaving his as you guided him through the borderlands and up a hill nearby.

“I remember when you told me something, a long time ago but it’s something I always wanted to do…”

he didn’t reply, but instead helped you up a steep bit of cliff face, not even questioning why you were making him climb in the middle of the night.

“…I remember you telling me that the borderlands might not have the charm of the city, but there is something about it that is just as beautiful in its own right.”

jiyan remembered the conversation. there wasn’t many conversations with you that he forgot, each and every one of them seared into his brain like a cattle brand, your conversations were an escape for him.

“you told me not to worry because you’d protect me,” you chuckled as you both eventually reached the top, and you guided him to the flat grassy land just a bit further ahead, “you said I should accompany you to witness..”

his voice cut yours off, filling in what he had said to you all those years ago, “witness the full moon and twinkling stars that grace the tranquil night skies.”

jiyan squeezed your hand in his, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he stared up towards the sky above him.

you sat down and patted the grass beside you, gesturing him to lay beside you and without much hesitation he did. he rested his head in your lap, his hand reaching for yours once again and he sighed.

“thank you…for this.”

“you sounded like you needed it, and well, you were right. it’s beautiful.” you smiled widely as you stared up as well, watching as thousands of stars twinkled gracefully through the inky black skies.

jiyan’s eyes were no longer looking at the sky, but at you instead. the way the moon’s light delicately highlighted your face in the most perfect way, the stars reflecting in your widened eyes, the breeze blowing through your hair.

“yeah…unbelievably beautiful, I know.”

you just wouldn’t know he wasn’t talking about the same thing you were anymore.

[mimimui]

bllk boys as your not-so bf

includes: isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin

tags: use of profanity, use of 'babe', one-sided(?), angst if you squint hard enough, discord in nagi's

a/n: inspired by my not-so bf (we don't talk anymore) :b srsly idk if that guy actually liked me or not but anyway .. enjoy !

even if he's at soccer training, he answers all your texts right away. you've seen him reply, or rather, not reply, to his other friends whenever he was with you. it feels as if isagi gives you special treatment, but in reality, you barely talk in real life. he pays you no mind when you pass by him, as if you were strangers. sure, he can act like that all he wants, but he can't forget all the late night talks you had.

you've shared secrets, fears, ambitions, and questions with each other. you've exchanged greetings, selfies, and "i love you"s, yet he's able to act as if you're nothing more to him. you look at him and there's a familiar pang in your heart, one you've experienced many times before.

how much longer is he going to hide his true feelings for you? does he have feelings at all?

the morning of the sleepover your friend hosted, you and bachira lie down comfortably on the bed, clicking through your friends' instagram stories. you're on his chest and his head is on your shoulder, him being the one clicking through while you hold your phone. he occassionally makes comments about them, saying things like "that was funny" or "ooh that one's pretty, introduce me sometime?"

you frown at his comment, but he doesn't see it. you two are always so close, holding hands and whatnot. you're always mistaken as a couple, but bachira denies it quicker than you do, which is a sign you should probably take. when you all go home, your friend sends you a picture they took of you and bachira on the bed and teases you.

your heart wrenches as you tell them "we're just friends."

you share a lot of your things with chigiri, and he does the same. you always find him asking to borrow your hairbrush, if he can take a bite of your food, use your phone, and more than you can remember. can you recall when you let him use your shirt after training? yeah, that was the only thing of yours he never gave back. why would he even keep that shirt?

on his way home, his teammates asked him if the shirt belonged to his significant other. he pauses for a moment, but then ultimately denies even having one. you get a bit irritated at times, and he has to snap you out of your thoughts at the cafe you two frequent. here you are, once again sharing a drink with one straw. yes, one.

from all the indirect kisses you've shared, you should actually just kiss at this point.

you and nagi play video games together everyday. you're always seen duoing together, so a lot of people mistake you two for a couple. after soccer training, nagi's quick to turn on his computer and ask you to play games with him. fps, rpg, horror... you've played so many games together you've lost count.

in vc, he hears you groan and he stifles a laugh. you complain the player that killed you is cheating as you click through the players to spectate nagi. when you're about to mention the flank, he says something that makes your heart pound. maybe you're imagining it, or maybe it's because of a shitty headset, but did he just call you 'babe'?

you shake your head, brushing it off. you probably just heard wrong.

reo connected his online payment to your food apps, so you don't have to pay for your orders. you refused at first, but as your face recognition detects his face, your phone was now his domain. he tells you to order food whenever you want, and not to tell him when you do, he doesn't mind.

but as you see him carrying an extra lunchbox with food he made himself, you wonder who he's going to give it to. you're not bothered, of course, it was just a cooked lunch. made by reo. personally. you mentally slap yourself for thinking about it so much. are you even allowed to be jealous of the lunchbox's recipient? you're just reo's friend, and you already have access to his online wallet, so what's the problem?

yeah... what's the problem?

he's annoyingly good at minesweeper. rin effortlessly completed the board, while you're still stuck deciding between the bottom or top tile. he acts nonchalant about his umpteenth win that day, but you know he wants to brag about it to you so bad.

you sigh in defeat, asking him for another rematch, which he gladly agrees to. and, just like all other times, he completes his board first. this time, instead of laughing at you for being slow, he takes your device and completes the board for you. he complains you take too long, and that he gets impatient when his love isn't done with the game.

wait. his what?

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[chiyuuchu]

Kenma gets a gamer girlfriend <3 (31st July 2024)

Kenma Kozume x Reader

Prompt! Kenma who has an obvious crush on his fellow classmate who has a gentle personality. Once he gets to know her, he realises she does indeed have a more intense side.

Kenma Kozume had always preferred the quiet company of his video games over the bustling chatter of his classmates. However, there was one person who managed to divert his attention from the screen—a girl in his class who was both cute and mysterious. She rarely spoke, always keeping to herself, and that intrigued Kenma more than he cared to admit.

For weeks, he admired her from afar, sneaking glances during class and wondering what kind of person she was. Her name was Y/N, and she seemed to float through school like a ghost, leaving Kenma with a growing curiosity.

One afternoon, as Kenma and his best friend Kuroo Tetsurou sat on a bench during lunch, Kenma's eyes once again drifted towards Y/N, who was sitting under a tree, reading a book. Kuroo, ever observant, followed Kenma’s gaze and smirked.

“You’ve been staring at her for weeks, Kenma. When are you going to talk to her?”

Kenma blushed, tearing his eyes away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. You like her, don’t you?”

Kenma sighed, knowing it was pointless to deny it. “Yeah, I guess I do. But she’s… she’s different. I don’t know how to approach her.”

Kuroo’s smirk widened. “That’s why you’ve got me.” He stood up, grabbing Kenma by the arm. “Come on. Let’s go talk to her.”

“Kuroo, wait!” Kenma protested, but Kuroo was already dragging him across the campus.

As they approached Y/N, Kuroo called out, “Hey there! Mind if we join you?”

Y/N looked up, slightly startled, but she nodded. “Sure.”

Kuroo plopped down on the grass, pulling Kenma with him. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, and this is Kenma Kozume. He’s in your class.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I know. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

Kenma managed a shy smile. “Hi.”

Kuroo nudged Kenma with his elbow. “Kenma here was just wondering if you’re into any games.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with interest. “Actually, I am. I play a lot of different games. Do you play too, Kenma?”

Kenma’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, I do. What games do you play?”

“A bit of everything, but I’ve been really into Valorant lately,” Y/N said, her smile growing.

Kenma’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? I play Valorant too.”

Y/N’s smile turned into a grin. “Maybe we could play together sometime?”

Kenma felt his cheeks heat up, with his newfound yet hesitant confidence he decided to take the shot. “That would be great. Do you have Discord? We can exchange usernames and play tonight.”

Y/N nodded, pulling out her phone. “Sure. Here’s mine.”

Kenma fumbled for his phone, quickly adding her on Discord. As they exchanged usernames, he felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. This was really happening.

As they said their goodbyes Kuroo slaps a hand on Kenma’s back. “Way to go kenma!” he smirks. Kenma just ignored him as usual.

That night, Kenma sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen, waiting for Y/N to come online. He was so nervous that she would ghost him or forget. Maybe he was overthinking it but he couldn’t help it. When her username finally popped up, he felt a surge of anticipation.

He clicked on her name and sent a message: “Hey, ready to play?”

Her response was almost immediate: “Yep! Let’s do this.”

They joined a voice chat, and Kenma’s heart pounded as he heard her voice through his headphones. “Hey, Kenma.”

“Hi, Y/N,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

They launched Valorant and joined a game. At first, Y/N’s voice was calm and collected, much like her demeanor at school.

“Hey I hope you don’t mind but I’m gonna instalock Reyna.” She said in her gentle voice. “That’s fine with me, I can play Sage or Omen.” Kenma responded with his signature soft spoken voice.

But as the game progressed, Kenma began to see a different side of her. She was incredibly skilled, her movements precise and strategic. And when she spoke in team chat, her quiet exterior melted away, revealing a fiery and competitive spirit.

“Get on site!” she commanded, her voice filled with intensity. “Cover me, I’m planting the spike.”

At some point she started insulting the bottom frags. Which he found hot.

Kenma was taken aback by her sudden aggression but found it strangely captivating. She wasn’t just good; she was amazing. Her calm demeanor at school had given no hint of this fierce competitor lurking beneath the surface.

As the game continued, Kenma found himself drawn deeper into their teamwork. Y/N’s commands were sharp and effective, and he followed her lead without question. They dominated the match, and by the end, their team had secured a decisive victory.

“GG EZ, well played,” Y/N said, her voice returning to its usual calm tone.

Kenma couldn’t hide his admiration. “You’re really good, Y/N.”

She laughed softly. “Thanks, Kenma. You’re not bad yourself. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” Kenma said, a smile spreading across his face.

After logging off, Kenma lay in bed, replaying the evening’s events in his mind. He had always admired Y/N from afar, but now, after seeing her in action, he felt something deeper. Her mysterious allure, combined with her fierce gaming skills, had captivated him completely.

The next day at school, Kenma spotted Y/N in the hallway. Gathering his courage, he walked up to her. “Hey, Y/N.”

She turned, her smile lighting up her face. “Hey, Kenma. Ready for another game tonight?”

Kenma’s heart raced. “Definitely.”

As they walked to class together, Kenma realized that his admiration had blossomed into something more. And for the first time, he felt like he had a real chance to get to know the mysterious girl who had captured his heart.

Over the next few weeks, Kenma and Y/N spent countless hours talking and playing games together. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, and eventually, they transitioned from friends to something more. Kenma had never felt this way about anyone before, and Y/N's presence brought a new warmth to his life.

One evening, as they were wrapping up a gaming session, Kenma had an idea. "Hey, Y/N, what do you think about playing with some of my friends next time?"

Y/N smiled through the voice chat. "Sure, that sounds fun. Who do you have in mind?"

"Just a couple of guys from the volleyball team. Kuroo and Bokuto," Kenma replied. "They’re pretty good at games, but I think they'll be in for a surprise."

Y/N chuckled. "I’m looking forward to it."

The next day, Kenma met up with Kuroo and Bokuto. Akaashi was there too but he didn’t say much. They were having a game of volleyball at kuroo’s backyard. With a slight grin on his face. "Hey, you guys up for a game of Valorant tonight?"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "Sure, but why the sudden invite?"

Kenma shrugged, trying to appear casual. "I thought it’d be fun to play with my girlfriend."

Bokuto's eyes widened. "Girlfriend? You have a girlfriend?"

Kenma nodded. "Yeah. We’ve been playing together for a while now. Her name’s Y/N."

Kuroo smirked. "Well, well, Kenma. Didn’t know you had it in you. Sure, we’ll play. But you know, we’re pretty good. Hope she can keep up."

Kenma’s grin widened. "Trust me, you two are the ones who’ll need to keep up."

That Evening Kenma, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Y/N joined the Valorant lobby. Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged greetings with Y/N, their tone friendly but skeptical.

“So, Y/N,” Kuroo said, “Kenma tells us you’re pretty good at this game.”

Y/N’s voice was calm and confident. “I do alright. Let’s see how we do as a team.”

As the game began, it didn’t take long for Kuroo and Bokuto to realize that Y/N was not just good—she was exceptional. She led the team with precision, her strategic calls and sharp shooting turning the tide of every round. Kenma supported her flawlessly, their teamwork a testament to the hours they had spent playing together.

“Nice shot, Y/N!” Bokuto exclaimed after she single-handedly took down three opponents. “You’re amazing!”

Kuroo, usually confident, was uncharacteristically quiet, his respect for Y/N growing with each headshot she landed. By the end of the match, Y/N was at the top of the scoreboard, Kenma second with Kuroo and Bokuto trailing behind.

As they exited the game, Kuroo let out a low whistle. “Kenma, you weren’t kidding. Y/N, you’re incredible.”

Bokuto chimed in, “Yeah, Kenma’s a lucky guy to have you as his teammate—and his girlfriend.”

Kenma felt a surge of pride and happiness. “Thanks, guys. I told you she was good.”

Y/N laughed softly. “It was fun playing with you all. Let’s do it again sometime.”

As they logged off, Kuroo and Bokuto couldn’t stop talking about Y/N’s skills. Kenma, content and happy, realized just how lucky he was—not just to have Y/N as a girlfriend, but also as a partner in gaming and in life.