#˗ˏˋ impossible

[tulip-room]

ch. 3 new blooms || masterlist || previous chapter || wc: 6.8k || all hq works || a/n: thank you to everyone who has read the other two chapters <3 this is the last part of this series so I hope you enjoyed <3

“I do know him.” The start of an admission. She feels guilty, she shouldn’t feel guilty but the thought of him still makes her uneasy. “He was my ex,” she takes a deep breath. She can feel the pause from Kita but doesn’t feel him pull away, instead his hand grips hers tighter and she can hear the sharp intake of breath like he’s about to say something. “You don’t have to say anything, I know he’s your friend. It’s really not that big of a deal, I should really be over it by now. It’s been what, I don’t know eight months, I really should be over it. I mean, I am over it. I am.” 

“It’s okay to not be over it you know? You don’t have to convince anyone, most of all yourself, that you need to be over him. Just take things slowly.”

“But I should be over it. I don’t know why I’m still so caught up over it, I’m the one who left him.” She reaches for her now empty glass in the hopes that maybe it refilled itself between when she first got it and now. It hasn’t. 

“Just because you’re the one who left doesn’t mean it didn’t affect you as much as if he was the one who left.” His thumb is rubbing circles on her hand again. A poor attempt at soothing her because it just makes her think about how he knows Atsumu, he knows him and is friends with him. She might’ve just ruined their friendship. She’s ruining everything again. “You’re allowed to grieve things, even if you never had them. From what you’ve told me you haven’t had time to actually feel the end of the relationship. You immediately tried to fix everything and get as far away from it as you felt you could. Excuse me for being…brash, but we’ve been friends for a little bit and I want to see you finally feel good about yourself again.” 

“How do we do that?” 

“First, let’s get you home. We can go to my house if you want. I can make you a snack and you don’t have to worry about going anywhere.” 

“That actually…sounds kinda nice.” He lets go of her hand and she shivers from how cold her hand feels now. She gets up from the table and relaxes when she feels his hand on her back again. Kita is a relaxing presence she hadn’t expected herself to get used to as quickly as she has. There’s times when she’s in the comfort of her home but it feels slightly off when she walks around and doesn’t feel the pressure of a hand on her back or see tufts of white hair peeking around a corner. She likes the constant that is Kita, he does the same thing day in and day out. He has a set schedule, he doesn’t falter from the image of him that she has in her mind. He’s expected. He helps her into his truck again, the beverage he had having long worn off. 

The drive back to his home feels shorter than the drive to the bar, maybe it’s his hand holding hers or the gentle hum of the truck but she feels more relaxed than she did earlier. She’s grown familiar with the scenery when they get closer to the farm, the gentle hills and the roads becoming a bit harsher the further out they get from the city. “Wait here,” his voice rolls out above the hum of the engine before it’s turned off. Her hands play with the rough material of the seatbelt before she hears the click of the car door opening. His hands reach over and unbuckle her seatbelt and he holds out a hand to her, tentatively she takes it and accepts the help as she gets out of the truck. His arms wrap around her when her feet reach the ground, her arms hesitate for a moment before wrapping around him. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For sharing even though you were scared,” she’s not sure why the statement makes tears well in her eyes but he must see them because he hugs her tighter. “I’m so sorry he made you feel like that, I’m glad you still feel comfortable with me.”

“I’m not sure you could make me feel uncomfortable, Shinsuke.” She can feel his shoulders relax and when she starts to pull away so does he. His hand finds her again as they walk inside. She looks around before sitting on his couch, his grey throw pillows fitting nicely with the warm grey of the couch. Her eyes follow him as he makes his way towards the kitchen, there’s a small island that separates the living room and the kitchen, she sees him open the fridge and the red fruit is familiar to her. She watches him grab a knife from the holder. Is he making her pomegranate?

She moves from the couch to sit at the island. Get a closer look at what’s going on, how his hands carefully hold the fruit, cradle it, and how his knife gently cuts the top off and peels it back carefully from the seeds inside. His hands don’t get covered in the juices, how each move is precise as he cuts down the sides and opens it up like a flower. Without a mess the seeds fall out of their casing and into a bowl, with a small smile he looks up at her before washing the seeds off in the sink and pushing the bowl over to her as he throws away the peel and washes his hands. 

“You didn’t make a mess.”

“The pomegranate was ripe. You only get a mess when you force it to open before it's ripe.” He says it so simply as he leans against the counter on the opposite side of her. “Do you like to paint?”

“I’ve only done it a few times.” He nods and she pushes the bowl back over to him, he packages them up and puts it back in the fridge. “Do you paint?”

“Not a lot, if I need to take my mind off something and I’ve already completed the farm work for the day then I will.”

“You can talk to me, I talk to you about my problems enough.”

“I’ll talk to you next time.” He walks around the island and over to her, he gently grabs her hand and they head back over to the couch.  His arm is wrapped around her shoulder and she moves so her head is on his chest. She’s not aware of falling asleep, unsure of if Kita also fell asleep until she feels the gentle breaths underneath her head. She knows it’s early in the morning, can feel the sun just grazing her arm. The prickle of the day hitting her eyes, there’s a blanket over them that wasn’t there before. Her arm reaches up and lightly grazes over Kita’s face, her fingertips barely tapping his skin. There’s a coldness to his face that she wasn’t prepared for as she brings her hand away, she wonders if her face is just as cold. Her hand touches her nose and she shakes her head when she feels the chill from being exposed to the air.

She’s not surprised to see his eyelashes flutter against his cheek a few minutes after she wakes up. She knows it’s later than he usually gets up, knows it’s partly her fault that he’s getting a late start to his day. “Good morning,” his voice is deep and it’s soft as it’s whispered out delicately from his lips. He closes his eyes again for a moment before they open halfway, his arm resting on the top half of the couch and his head is using his hand as a rest. “Did you sleep okay?” His other hand rubs up and down her arm gently, she can’t help but lean closer to him and the warmth he provides. 

“Better than I have in a while,” she says mid yawn and stretches. Her shirt lifts up slightly at the bottom and she notices his eyes flicker for just a moment before returning to lock with hers. She moves her head to rest against the couch, it strains her eyes a little to look at him in the light and figures he can’t be doing much better. “We should get up.”

“We should,” he agrees but doesn’t make a motion to move from the couch. He lifts his head and drops his hand to move a stray piece of hair from her face. “I never get up this late, I must have been out.” He gives her a small smile and she can see his eyes flicker down to her mouth for a moment before returning, she blames it on the movement of her smile drawing his eyes. 

“Must have,” her smile grows into a grin when he cups her cheek and his thumb makes small circles on the surface. The static whir of the ceiling fan fills the quiet moments, doesn’t let the silence really feel silent. She can hear his breath hitching when she leans close to him and swears she can feel his heart beat faster when she turns her head and presses a paper light kiss against his palm. The motions stop and but the world doesn’t feel like it’s come crashing down, she can feel the motions of his chest moving before she hears the laughter fly from his mouth. “What? What’s funny?” Despite herself, the feeling of doubt doesn’t come. She can only feel the warmth of the sun and the warmth of him.

“That tickled.” 

“You’re ticklish?” She smiles and sits up, he can see where it’s going and tries to block her attacks to no avail. He breaks out in a fit of giggles, his back ends up against the cushions of the couch and she straddles his hips and enjoys the laughter that ensues from her onslaught. 

“Please, mercy…” he says breathlessly and she smiles and stops her attack. His chest heaves up and down quickly as he tries to catch his breath, he puts his weight on his elbows to sit up and it’s only then that she realizes how close their faces are.  She can feel his breath on her skin as their smiles slowly drop from their faces. Their noses bump each other but she finds she doesn’t mind the sensation of his skin on hers. His hands rest lightly on her hips and she can almost feel his lips brushing against hers. “…sorry,” he says breathlessly as he pulls away from her and oh how she wishes he would have closed the distance instead of lengthening it. 

Would his lips taste like strawberries, like the chapstick he uses that she got for him as a birthday gift. Would they taste of honey; of a nectar so sweet she couldn’t even comprehend the taste. She moves to tuck a piece of hair that fell from behind her ear but Kita’s hand is already gently brushing the hair away from her face. She can feel goosebumps rise on her body and she wants to grab him by the neck and close the distance herself. She needs to know what his lips taste like, if they’re as soft as they look. If they’ll lock with hers like a puzzle piece. 

She shifts to move off of him but a soft grip of her waist stops her before she can get too far. “We should really work, we’ve spent a lot of time dilly dallying.” 

“Can we stay like this…just a little longer?” And she finds herself agreeing. He looks at her in a way that makes her believe she hung the stars in the sky just for him. Maybe, if she had more power the stars in the sky would be hung for him. 

“Okay.”

The honey slides its way slowly to the bottom of the jar. Only a few more. “So what do you typically do in the winter?”

“I take care of the garden in my greenhouse, sell some of the goods from it,” he smiles at her and puts his hand on her back to move past her; he reaches into the cabinet to grab a few more lids.

“No off season for you?”

“I like my routine.”

“It seems like you’ve been straying further and further from it since you met me,” she smiles at him and he can’t help but let out a small laugh and agree with her first. 

“Get back to pouring the honey, try not to spill anymore on your hand,” he teases and his eyes flicker to her hand before he moves past her again and she looks down. She sets down the container of honey and goes to the sink to wash it off, his soap smells of chamomile and lily, after a quick rinse she grabs a towel and cleans the outside of the jar. 

“It’s not my fault, you distracted me.” She rolls her eyes and kicks his foot lightly with her own. He turns his head to look at her and shakes his head. “What? Don’t you have honey to be pouring?” 

She finishes screwing on the last lid and places the neatly labeled jar with the others in a wooden crate. “It’s a little crazy to me that it’s almost the end of the year,” she quickly glances over at him as he lifts the crate. She can see his arms fighting against the long sleeves of his sweater, he turns to her as he picks it off the table. “I would never have seen myself here in a year. If you asked me last year well, she would’ve thought…” there’s a  moment of pause and they both know who she was going to bring up. “Thank you Kita,” she wipes her hands nervously on her apron; he had gotten her one of her own to have around the house. It’s a light grey and has a small embroidered flower pattern along the bottom, it hangs up next to his apron and she notices how domestic it all seems. 

“Shinsuke.”

“What?”

“You can call me Shinsuke.” 

“Oh, right,” she places a palm on her forehead and takes a deep breath. “Thank you Shinsuke.”

“You can talk about him,” she can hear the sink running as he speaks. “It might help you…I won’t push you of course though,” she hears the faucet squeak as she finally turns around. Her back hits the wall with a sigh and she shakes her head as she looks towards the ground.

“It wasn’t all bad, sometimes it was nice. I just…I didn’t feel loved after a while.” She sees his shoes come into her vision and she lifts her head. “I can’t speak for him, I know I wasn’t perfect either. I broke my fair share of plates,” she laughs quietly. “Our first kiss was nice.” He tilts his head and there’s a somber expression residing in his features. “He had gotten out of practice early, or skipped, something you know. He stopped me at a crosswalk and told me he wanted to kiss me…it was really sweet no matter how annoyed I acted. I wish the next day hadn’t ruined it.”

“What happened?”

“Oh you know how it is, the paparazzi got a photo of us kissing and it was all over the front cover. We didn’t go on many dates after that, to protect me from the really crazy fangirls is what he said at least.”

“The…so. The paparazzi just happened upon you two kissing on a random street corner,” he doesn’t say it like a question. 

“It is weird huh,” she doesn’t want to know where he’s going. “Please don’t tell me the truth. I don’t want the happy memories I do have to be…lost.” Kita nods and closes his lips in a tight laced smile. “It’s getting late,” she clears her throat and pushes herself off of the wall and towards the living room. He follows her to the door and watches as she steps over the threshold, she rubs her arms and he turns to the closet near the door. 

“I don’t want you to get cold,” he says simply as he hands her one of his corduroy jackets; the jacket's fur lining is soft to the touch and despite some darker patches on the elbows it looks in good condition. 

“Thank you Shinsuke.”

“It’s no problem.”

She returns to the familiar house she’s started calling her own home. When she opens the door she’s met with the sight of the curtains pulled back to let light in and easels with blank canvases rested on them. “What’s all this?” She smiles as she points towards the easels. 

“I thought we would take the day off. I didn’t like how things yesterday ended. So, I remembered telling you I like to paint when I’m upset about something…I thought maybe it would help you feel better too.” He finishes wiping off the brushes and puts them on a towel and places the towel on the coffee table in the living room.

“That’s…kinda cute actually.” She follows after him and sits down at one of the easels. “I don’t know where to start.” She picks up one of the brushes before twirling it between her fingers. She rolls it back and forth. She feels his warmth against her back and feels his hand wrapping around hers. He guides her hand to one of the colors spread out on the palette. 

“Just, paint whatever,” he says gently as he guides her hand to make smooth strokes over the canvas. When she starts to get more confident in her movements he gently starts removing his hand from hers. She turns her head to look at him and after a moment of eye contact decides she’ll finally talk.

“Will you keep helping?”

“Whatever you need.” His hand holds hers again but instead of guiding her strokes it’s like she’s guiding him. His other hand is resting gently on her shoulder and if she listens closely she wonders if she could hear his heartbeat…or is that her heartbeat thumping in her ears. When her hand stops moving she’s surprised at what she was able to create. It’s not something that outdoes the Mona Lisa by any means but it’s clear to see what it is. An ocean landscape with bits of coral, some of it bleached and some healthy. It makes her think of herself…maybe this was more healing than she had originally given Kita credit for. He smiles when he takes in the whole picture. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s rudimentary at best, and I had you to help me.”

“It’s not bad, you’re too harsh on yourself. I really like how you did the water, very…flowy? Is that a word?” They both let out a small laugh at that. They start to clean up the mess they (she) made. There’s a small stain of blue paint on the coffee table as it wouldn’t come off. Kita told her he didn’t mind and that it could do with some color. 

“I feel bad, you didn’t get to paint.”

“This wasn’t about me, this was about you. I told you I would try and help you feel better about yourself and the grieving process. I’m sorry it took me this long to get to it.” He puts the supplies back in his room down the hall. When he returns he motions for them to both sit on the sofa so she follows suit.

“In a weird way, it did make me feel better. I can’t explain it but it feels like I’m thinking clearer now?”

“I’m glad I was able to help, or I suppose. I’m happy the pain was able to help.”

“No, I think it was more you than the paint. I think you're helping me.”

“You need to be able to rely on yourself too.”

“I do, but it’s like you told me. Asking for help isn’t a bad thing. So, I asked for help and I actually feel better.” There’s silence for a second as both sit and think of the words they said.

“You listened to me?”

“Yeah? You were helping me, why would I not listen to you Shinsuke?”

“I don’t know…I’m just really glad I was able to help you.”

By the end of the day she’s pulling the corduroy jacket she took last time back over herself and heading for the door. She looks over her shoulder at him as she leaves and calls out to him.

“Shinsuke?”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m over him. It’s the love I’m mourning, not the person.” Before he can answer she turns on her heel and towards her car. 

On his next delivery run she tags along, she’s gotten used to the soft leather of the seats of his truck. Of the middle seat being where the console would otherwise be. Little bits of hair fall from their spot behind her ear from the vents of the truck. Kita notices and looks over at her for a moment. “Is your hair bothering you?”

“A little?”

“Glove box.” She looks at him confused for a moment before popping open the compartment and finding a new pack of hair ties and bobby pins sitting neatly. “I…I noticed your hair falls from behind your ears a lot so I figured I should keep some in our car for convenience.”

“Thank you Shinsuke.” 

They pull up past familiar billboards, ads she hadn’t seen since her move. She finds they don’t sting quite like they used to when she was looking out the window of her apartment. She doesn’t miss the apartment; as hard as moving had been. The hand that’s held in her hand confirms that for her. The car rolls to a stop outside of a familiar establishment. Onigiri Miya, she thinks she’s okay with going in there now. She carries a sack of rice over her shoulder and Kita grabs the other two, the clipboard clamped between his hand and the sack of rice. He gives her a look and with a reassuring smile from her the two walk inside the building. It hadn’t changed much since the last time she had seen it, the floor still wooden and the booths still padded. There were a few pictures hanging around and a new award set up on one of the shelves. 

“Y/N,” the voice is familiar and the remembrance of the friendship she lost comes back to her. “What are you doing here?” She turns and Osamu takes the bag of rice from her despite her complaint. 

“I’m working,” she gives him a smile. He’s not sure the last time he saw a smile quite as bright on her face. “I moved out to the countryside, fate has it I found an old friend of yours.” 

“Osamu,” Kita nods and steps a little closer to Y/N. “How’s it going?”

“Good, you two can stay for a quick lunch or dinner if you want. The rush just got over so there are plenty of tables open.” 

“Thank you,” She holds her hands open but Osamu shakes his head and starts heading towards the back. Once the bags are put away and the papers are signed the three of them lean against the counters. Osamu on the expo counter and Y/N and Kita on the counter across from him. “Long time.”

“I thought for sure I would never see you again after my brother…well you know what he did better than I do obviously…” there’s a pause and Osamu looks around awkwardly before scratching the back of his neck. “You look nice. Happy.”

“I am.” And she finds that she’s not lying. She is happy, happy that her life seems to be normal again, happy she found Kita or did he find her? She finds that she’s happy that she found this job to begin with…she feels alive. Kita’s pinkie finger lightly taps hers and she can’t help the smile that appears on her face as she tries to bite it away. Osamu smiles a little as he notices their hands as their pinkies interlock with each other.

“I’m happy for you…stay for a snack at least.”

“If she’s okay with it.” Kita looks towards Y/N and she nods her head. Osamu leads them to an empty table and takes their order himself. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he says and slips away back to the kitchen. He shakes his head with a smile when he notices how in love the two look. It’s not a hard thing to see. They practically yell it out to everyone with the little touches and glances. He hears the squeak of the back door open and his head whips around to see a familiar mop of blonde hair. 

“Hey ‘Sa-” and he’s seen it. Atsumu should’ve gotten out later than this, that’s why he didn’t feel bad about asking them to stay. “Practice got out early.” he hates how small his brother’s voice sounds, despite the falling out and things he’s heard Atsumu is still his brother at the end of the day.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His eyes are locked on Y/N as she talks excitedly to Kita about something. She radiates pure…joy. His line of sight is broken when Osamu notices and shifts to the side slightly. He swallows and tries to get it to leave his mind. “She never looked at me like that.” He clears his throat and turns around so his back is facing Osamu now. His hands rest on the cool metal of the table and there’s quiet chatter of the few patrons inside the shop talking with each other. 

Osamu sighs and shakes his hand through his hair. He puts the towel from over his shoulder into his apron and leads Atsumu further away from the expo counter. He slips the apron off and closes the door to his office. “She did ‘Tsumu.”

“Did what?”

“She did look at you like that…it was you who wasn’t looking.” Part of him knows Osamu is right but it doesn’t make the pain subside as his chest stings. Osamu opens his arms and he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself at his brother. Tears don’t fall from his eyes in a quick manner, the soothing circles on his back helping to keep him grounded. “I’m sorry ‘Tsumu.”

“It’s okay…” for the first time since she left. It hurts; hurts in a way he didn’t anticipate. More than words the two of them ever shared. “I’m okay.”

“You’re allowed to be upset.”

“I was the reason it ended in the first place ‘Samu.” Osamu finds he doesn’t have a reply, not one that will provide any real comfort at least. “Is it bad that I still might love her? In my own fucked up way.”

“You’re not fucked up,” Osamu pulls away to look his brother in the face. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself dumbass, you’re going to help me finish the orders for the day.” It’s a distraction and they both know it. Who would have thought that his heart would break this much after so long apart. He gives Atsumu an apron and they silently return to the counter to finish off the orders for the day. “You can still love her, just don’t…’Tsumu she’s not yours anymore.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” He shapes the rice slower than usual and can see Atsumu pause his chopping. “I know you mean well…it’s okay to still love someone even after they leave you. She’s happy now, sitting out there with Kita. ‘Tsumu, she’s happier than I've seen her in a long time.”

“She’s not mine,” he mumbles under his breath and closes his eyes again as he sets the knife down. The tears start to slowly fall from his eyes, they’re hot and wet as they roll down his cheeks. “I let her go,” his voice teeters on the edge of breaking. “Man, these onions are really getting to me.”

“It’s okay to move on.” Atsumu sniffles and steps away from the counter to get a paper towel. He dries his eyes and nose and returns with freshly washed hands and a new set of gloves. They prep in silence for the rest of the night; even long after Y/N and Kita leave.

Kita and Y/N take a detour and wind up at a park. She questions the decision until Kita puts both of their hands in his pocket. He helps her balance as she walks along the plastic railing of the playground. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here.” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. When she opens them she sees the swings; they’re rusted and could do with new mats under them but they’re the same as she remembers. With a small laugh she pulls them over to the swingset.

“Slow down,” he chuckles quietly as she pulls them to the swings, they trip slightly over the mulch in their pursuit.

“Maybe, you should hurry up.” She turns her head to look at him over her shoulder and he swears his heart skips a beat. He’s slightly out of breath when they make it over and sit down. They swing softly so as to not go too high and not hear each other anymore. “I’m glad I came back here with you. I’m glad I met you. I don’t think I could have done all this without you.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he bumps her shoulder lightly. “I was just here to give you a job.”

It’s her turn to bump him. “Now who's selling themselves short? You did so much more than that.” She stops and turns to face him better and he mirrors her. “You make me feel safe.”

“You make me feel safe too,” they find themselves leaning closer to each other. “Your eyes are beautiful when they shine like this..” it’s a whisper almost lost to the wind and she can feel her breath hitch.

“Shine like what?” She tries to keep her composure but fails as her eyes flicker to his lips.

“Like the stars,” his hand moves from holding the cold chain to cupping her cheek. Despite the initial chill she doesn’t mind his cold hand holding her cheek. He closes the distance and she doesn’t have time to process it before he’s pulling away. “Oh my goodness, I’m so-”

“Kita Shinsuke. If you don’t shut up and let me finally kiss you we’re going to have problems,” she says breathlessly and puts a hand on the back of his neck and pulls his lips back to hers. When they connect again it’s more than she thought it would be. His lips are soft, and they do taste of strawberry and honey. They taste of comfort and warmth, and something so inexplicable to him that she couldn’t picture a better taste in the world. She feels the wind chill and follows after Kita as he pulls away. “Why did you pull away?”

“It’s snowing,” he whispers against her lips. 

“Is it?”

“Yes, there’s bits stuck in your hair.” His hand goes up and smooths over her hair, taking the snow with it. She smiles and tilts her head back as the powdery snow falls from the clouds and she hopes the superstition is true.

 “Do you think the superstition is true?” She asks, she could picture a lifetime with him. It’s one of the easiest things she thinks she’s ever had to imagine. He’s so wonderful that loving him feels easy and she hopes that feeling doesn’t go away. She doesn’t want there to ever be a day that she stops loving Kita Shinsuke. She wants to still love him when his face grows smile lines and crow's feet, when there are sunspots coating his cheeks and shoulders. She wants him for as long as he will have her and she can only hope it’s for as long as she wants to have him.

“I sure hope so. I would love to spend a lifetime with you.” Her grin grows and she pushes herself back towards him and presses their lips against each other again. She can feel him smile into the kiss and she tangles her hands in his hair before having to pull away to sneeze. “Bless you,” he smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Thank you.”

“Let’s get you home before you catch a cold.” He helps her up and wraps his arm around her shoulder as they make their way back to his truck. When they arrive at his home he gives her a change of clothes and they sit on the couch watching movies before eventually going to his room and sleeping. His home was beginning to feel a bit more like it was their home, she had a spare key (a courtesy he had given her a few months after she started working for him). His closet space was overtaken by her clothes as her own closet began to dwindle, she knew he kept hair ties in the nightstand on the left side because that’s the side she always chose to sleep on. The layout of the house is as familiar to her as the back of her hand. She’s sure she could navigate it in the dark having been over so often. 

She’s happy there wasn’t a big moment of realization that she had fallen in love with Kita, it was less of a fall and more a gentle downhill stroll. One they took hand in hand every step of the way. The night she had first moved in it had rained and she remembers the day so clearly. It was one of those summer rain storms but on a cool night. She made Kita turn the porch lights on and grabbed his hand as she dragged him outside. He protested but there wasn’t anything to do to hide the pure joy on both of their faces. She taught him a simple box step and laughed whenever he would accidentally step on the toes of her shoes. His favorite part was spinning her, he got to see her laugh and smile as she spun around under the stream of water. Their clothes were well beyond soaked at this point and it was hard to convince her to go back inside. He almost didn’t want to.

She also remembers when they both got sick and had to take care of each other while doing their farmwork. That hadn’t been fun but waking up every morning seeing his face and ending every night safely held in his arms is fun. She doesn’t believe she will ever tire of the sight if she’s honest. Of how his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks before his eyes open. Or the dimple that appears when he smiles after she kisses his cheek. The quiet breaths have almost lulled her back to sleep a few times, Kita was so safe that it was hard to ever find a reason to leave his arms. Luckily for her he was never too far away. 

When the leaves change color they visit a shelter, she had noticed there were a few rodents on the farm (since she had moved into his home. Her little home no longer felt the same if he wasn’t with her). It had come up one day as they were looking over the finances. “We should get a farm cat.”

Kita takes a sip of his coffee before replying, “why?”

“I think we could use one.” 

“Whatever you want darling,” there’s a hint of a smile barely visible behind the rim of his mug as he takes another drink. It had taken them two more weeks to finally make the move, after one too many texts from Y/N with ads for adoptable cats near them he finally gave in. They make the drive out to a shelter and Kita pretends to be unfazed until Y/N puts a Siberian cat in his arms and she immediately starts purring. 

“Look! She likes you!” The cat twists and turns in his arms and makes biscuits in the air and he can’t help but fall in love. “Her name is Emi,” beautiful blessing. While he’s holding the purring cat in his arms he can’ help but think how fitting the name is, her coat is soft and a mixture of lighter and darker tones of brown. Her eyes are a shade of green that reminds him of emeralds. “Please Shin?”

“Alright.” It doesn’t take much convincing and if he’s being honest it was a yes as soon as the cat was put in his arms. She does well in the home and does even better at keeping the farm pest free. Kita can’t help himself when he goes to the pet store and sees a silk collar with a bow on it, he leaves the store with a bag of food (needed) and the brand new collar for Emi (...also needed). 

As the leaves turn into shades of oranges, yellows, and reds as they fall off the trees they find that Emi loves jumping into the leaves and then running back to you for you to rake them again. Although it could get a bit much if it had been a long day it does brighten their mood and they rake the leaves for her to jump in again. As the wind whistles quietly by them Kita and Y/N lay in their newly bought hammock. It sits in the place opposite their bench swing on the back porch. Kita likes laying in the hammock as he reads because he knows it means that a sleepy girlfriend– fiance comes wandering out and joins him by laying her head on his chest. A few minutes later the flap on the door hits against the wood and Emi jumps up to join them, finding her place in a spot between them and purrs loudly. 

“Shin, I love you…thank you.”

“I love you too darling, why are you thanking me?”

“Before you…before you I thought I was impossible to love,” she whispers and hears the soft thump as he closes his book and the shuffle of fabric as he turns to look at her. He leans his head down and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead and without moving too far responds.

“I don’t think anyone has ever actually tried. Loving you is easier than breathing.” She can’t help the flutter in her chest or the smile that always seems to grow on her face around him. “You’re perfect, and I love you. It’s impossible not to love you.”

“I think it’s pretty impossible not to love you too,” She tilts her head up and they share a gentle kiss. He opens his book again and moves it down so she’s able to read along with him.

“Let me know when you’re ready for me to turn the page,” he says gently as he lays his cheek against the top of her head. She realized that someone had finally seen through her mess. He had seen her fall apart and break more than once and he had stayed. He helped her as she opened up to him when she was ready, everything was on her time and if she hadn’t been ready to share anything nothing more was said on the topic until she brought it up. She found herself eating more pomegranate knowing him, there was never a mess and he would kiss her lips after she ate the seeds. She hoped it would stain his lips too, that there would be a reminder that they are stained together. That his nails would turn a pink hue from peeling back the skin to get to what’s inside.  When the old ladies came into the shop she no longer dodged questions about their relationship and Kita was more than happy to step in and answer. She hit him on the shoulder when he got too sappy but the second he wraps his arms around her and kisses her cheek to apologize she realizes she’s not actually mad. Someone let her open up and reveal the mess inside, he hadn’t said anything, had only grabbed a towel and helped her clean up whatever mess she felt like that day. He was forever stained with the color of her and she hoped he always would be. She finally understood why people thought pomegranates were beautiful. After all Kita Shinsuke was beautiful and she is worth the mess.

taglist (gen, fill out this form <3 ): @cheriisae @hiraethwa @hatsukeii @szyvrue

impossible taglist (closed) : @kameyyy @lale-txt @nectardaddy @solzscribblez

[greenelight]

hey    there    !    you    know    the    drill    !    like    this    post    if    you'd    be    alright    with    plotting    ,    yelling    about    our    muses together    ,    creating    cool    dynamics    ,    sending    each    other    sweet    memes    &    maybe    the    occasional    surprise    starter    or    two    !    if    you're    a    multi    ,    please    let    me    know    which    characters    you    want mason to    interact    with    in    a    comment    below.    please    feel    free    to    check    out    the    verses    i    have    available    or    we    can    create    one    together    !    looking forward to all the cool interactions , both old & new ! 💚

[nursc]

_________  ⋆˚ ★ INCOMING HOLO / ENDLESS EDITS OF NURSC

when i say: same girl, different font, im talking specifically about this cute little wink

[the-travelling-snitch]

HI HI HOLLY i saw your tags by the way and it made me so happy to see you reference the yuuyu/yuusha lore and that you noticed that yuusha’s tnbc hairstyle was the elsa hairstyle 😭👋

i dont have irl twst friends as well so im glad to hear i can help fuel that jamil love 😭

ALSO your blogs are SO pretty??? very aesthetic??? i’m going to go through your main and check out your work + your ocs when i have time omg. i’m actually kicking myself having not followed you yet 😤🫶

(also also i got your ask btw!! im having fun working on it rn dhbsjs)

hiiiii!!! ofc i’ve noticed heheh i love the ocs people are coming up with, plus the lore you created around yuuyu/yuusha was super interesting, so naturally that’ll stand out to me ^^

ahsjsh you’re so sweet ㅠㅠ i don’t think you missed out on much, i was knee-deep in a (semi) hiatus for most of the year, so i didn’t actually write all that much ^^; (but there’s this azul thing i’m hoping to finish for halloween 👀)

still i’m so flattered help… 🥺

and ahhhh THANK YOU so much for liking my aesthetics!! 🥺💕 i’ve thought about changing it to a ghost (pokémon) theme bc chandelure is my favourite little guy and halloween is upon us jsjsh (i guess it would be for this blog since i like botw too much to let it go jsjsh)

as for my ocs… carmilla is like the only one i’m thinking about atm (well and this yuusona i haven’t introduced yet but basically already has a feature length film in my head); these two are the reasons i want to learn how to draw, just so i can doodle the sillies jshhs

ooooh i’m glad you’re having fun!! my evil masterplan has worked hehehhe :]

also also i saw the posts you made about posting for multiple fandoms, aka the essence of my online presence, and doooooo it (esp if it’s fandoms i specifically am in, like obey me or hsr jshshs :>)

[a-zif]

[zudufeu]

Hii ! First of all, thanks for your hard work, your gifs are amazing ! I saw that you asked if some of us may be interested by some of your gifs pack put on hold, i'm totally for Ahn Bo Hyun and Park Ji Hyun, even if they're not the reason i'm here right now lol. I wanted to suggest Lee Jae Wook in the impossible heir because this guy is so fine (in my opinion ofc lol) ! Thank you and have a nice day ♥

hey there!! tysm for being so lovely 🥹 and for reminding me of the flexxcop packs lol!! i have some of bohyun already done from the first eps, i'll do my best to start preparing the rest of them so i can get them finished. and jaewook IS absolutely fine so i'll start giffing him asap!! ty anon ♡

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ gods and monsters ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x wife!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you cherished your husband, your family, and the life you had created together. hwang in-ho was a man of contradictions, capable of immense love and devotion. he treated you with such care, as though you were the most precious thing in his world. his adoration was tangible in every gesture, every lingering glance. yet beneath that tenderness was a darkness you struggled to reconcile. this same man, who held your hand with precious affection, was also the masked overseer of the squid game, a series of merciless challenges where the desperate competed, often at the cost of their lives, for a staggering cash prize.

˚ ༘♡ you could never truly fathom it. the man who pressed sweet kisses to your forehead at night was the same monster who orchestrated a spectacle of death and suffering. he claimed no pleasure in it, but the mere fact of his involvement unsettled you. the gleaming black mask, the command he held over every horrific detail, it was a world so far removed from the comfort of your home, yet it belonged to him all the same.

˚ ༘♡ only once had he asked if you wished to attend, to see what he called “his other life.” the question had terrified you to your core, your lips parting in silent dismay. you hadn’t needed to answer. the way your expression shifted, the way fright and disapproval glared across your pallid face, was enough. he never brought it up again, never risked shattering the fragile balance he had created between his two identities.

˚ ༘♡ you were a mother to a healthy three-year-old son, who filled your days with laughter and energy, and you were carrying another child, though you had yet to tell your husband. the news remained a quiet secret, one you turned over in your mind during the solitude of the evening. it wasn’t fear of his reaction that kept you silent. hwang in-ho adored his family, there was no question of that, but the thought of bringing another life into the shadow of the games unsettled you.

˚ ༘♡ you tried to focus on being the woman you wanted to be, a loving mother, a supportive partner. in many ways, you succeeded. you tucked your son in every night with whispered stories and soft lullabies, kept your home warm and welcoming, and met your husband’s gaze with as much love as you could muster, even when doubts crept into the corners of your mind.

˚ ༘♡ when your worries became too much to bear, he would sense it, always. he would take your hands in his, his voice calm, his tone measured. “think of me as two men,” he would say, his words a plea for understanding. “there is hwang in-ho, your husband, your partner, the father of our children. and then there is the front man, a role i play, a mask i wear.”

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to believe him, to hold on to the idea that the man who kissed you tenderly each morning could be separate from the one who orchestrated so much pain. but no matter how you tried to comprehend it, there were nights when the thought of who he was beyond your shared walls kept you awake, your heart aching with questions you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

˚ ༘♡ you tried with all your might to separate the two sides of the man you loved, the front man and your husband, hwang in-ho. but when he told you he wouldn’t be able to contact you during this year’s games, the delicate balance you had worked so hard to maintain crumbled. the weight of his words refused to settle, tearing at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to simply let it go.

˚ ༘♡ “every year, you’ve managed to visit after the game for the day. what’s different this time?” you asked, your voice trembling with desperation.

˚ ༘♡ at first, he deflected, his tone dismissive as if your concerns were unwarranted. but as your worry grew, it became impossible for him to ignore. the strain in your expression, the way your voice cracked when you spoke, it was enough to wear him down. even your son had begun to notice, his small hands tugging at your sleeve, his innocent eyes filled with confusion at the tension that filled the air.

˚ ༘♡ with a frustrated sigh, in-ho finally relented. his hand enveloped yours, warm and steady against your trembling fingers. “i will be there this year,” he admitted, his voice hushed and measured. “as a player.”

˚ ༘♡ the words sent a chill through you, and your breath caught in your throat. “what? why?” you asked, your disbelief slicing through the tension.

˚ ༘♡ his gaze locked onto yours. “there is someone returning to the games this year,” he began, his tone careful. “a former player, a winner in fact. he’s likely to cause complications, and… i can’t deny the intrigue of watching him. this year will be different. i’ve decided to stay close by instead of observing from a distance.”

˚ ༘♡ fury and agony surged within you, and your hands shook as you lightly struck his chest, the beating driven by hysteria. “you idiot!” you yelled. “you can’t guarantee you’ll be safe! have you even thought about your family? what about our son?”

˚ ༘♡ he caught your wrist gently, his grip cautious, his face softening as he pulled you closer. “i will not be in danger,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “i promise you that.”

˚ ༘♡ still, his assurance wasn’t enough. it didn’t stop the knot in your stomach from tightening or the ache in your chest from growing far more intense. the words you spoke next tumbled out before you had a chance to think them through. “if that’s true, then you won’t have any problem with me coming along!”

˚ ༘♡ the declaration hung in the air, sharp and sudden. even you were startled by it, your heart pounding in your chest as the misery of your demand settled between you. fear and anger had driven you to say it, but now it was too late to take it back. you searched his face for a reaction, your pulse racing.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t speak such nonsense again," he said firmly, his tone cutting through the tension in the room. "you have our son to think about. i am going, and i’ll return in a week. this is final."

˚ ༘♡ “no!” you shot back, the tremor in your voice betraying your growing panic. “if you’re going, then i’m coming with you. you told me it’s safe.” your eyes darted toward your son, who had long fallen asleep, blissfully unaware of the battle unfolding. a wave of guilt swept over you, tightening your throat. “he can stay with the household staff for a week. do you think i could take care of him properly while i’m sick with worry about you?”

˚ ༘♡ his brow furrowed, the sharp lines of irritation creasing his weary face. “you’re being unreasonable,” he said, his voice hard, though it faltered slightly as he began pacing the room. each step was measured, purposeful, as though he were trying to walk away from the argument itself. “this is dangerous enough without you there complicating things.”

˚ ༘♡ “and you’re being infuriating,” you countered, your tone rising as desperation overtook your earlier composure. “do you think I’d forgive myself if something happened to you while i stayed here and did nothing? you’re asking too much of me.” your voice cracked, the weight of your despair spilling into the room.

˚ ༘♡ the argument carried on into the late hour, a nightmare of clashing scorn and unresolved fears. he tried to dismiss you, to shut you down with reason, but you refused to back down. your agony, raw and untamed, eventually drove you to the brink. “if you go without me, i’ll leave,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i’ll take our son, and i’ll leave.”

˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed was deafening. he froze, his gaze snapping to yours, searching your face for the truth. you hated the lie, the hollowness of your own threat, but it was all you had left. leaving him wasn’t something you could ever do, but the thought of him walking into danger alone was unbearable.

˚ ༘♡ he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging under the burden of his dilemma. “fine,” he said at last, his voice clipped and low. “if you’re coming, then there are conditions… rules that have to be carefully followed.”

˚ ༘♡ your relief was immediate but short-lived as his words settled over you like a heavy cloak. “what conditions?” you asked, your voice softer now, cautious.

˚ ༘♡ “we’ll need to use false identities," he explained, his tone deliberate, each word chosen with care. "to everyone involved, we’re strangers. no one can know who we are, not even that we’re connected."

˚ ༘♡ the practicality of his demand sent a shiver down your spine, even as you nodded in agreement. the idea of pretending he was nothing more than a stranger felt unnatural, wrong, but you couldn’t argue. “i understand,” you murmured, though the knot in your stomach tightened with every passing second.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as though considering whether you truly grasped what you were stepping into. when he finally looked away, you felt no sense of victory, only the forthcoming horror of what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ the games were set to begin in exactly one week, and each passing day left you feeling more unsettled. every time your husband pulled you into his arms, the unease lingered beneath the surface, making it difficult to fully surrender to his warmth. though you tried to find comfort in his presence, the thought of what lay ahead clouded every shared moment.

˚ ༘♡ you had entrusted your son to the most reliable and loyal members of the household staff, ensuring that he would be cared for in your absence. you also took great care to conceal any sign of your pregnancy. if in-ho discovered the truth, he would never allow you to join him, and staying behind was not an option you could accept.

˚ ༘♡ he had laid out the plan with meticulous precision. the two of you would arrive after the chaos of the first game, red light, green light. as he explained it, a large portion of the participants would undoubtedly be eliminated once they grasped the deadly reality of the games. the aftermath of that horror would provide cover for your entrance, allowing you to integrate without raising suspicion.

˚ ༘♡ your husband would take on the identity of player 001, an unassuming participant with no visible ties to you. your alias would be player 077, your stories carefully crafted to fit the narrative. his fabricated reason for joining the games was both haunting and ironic, he claimed he needed money for his pregnant wife. when he first told you this, a wave of panic washed over you, thinking he might have discovered your secret. but as you studied his expression, his calm demeanor revealed no hint of realization.

˚ ༘♡ for your feigned story, he decided you would play the role of a young woman drowning in debt, struggling to pay off the burdens left behind by your late father. the lie felt strangely fitting, yet it unsettled you all the same. every detail he crafted for your cover seemed so calculated, so detached, it was as though he had rehearsed this for far longer than he let on. this game of life and death was nothing more than a facade for him.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded along as he explained the plan, his voice unwavering. though the words were spoken with care, they failed to soothe the growing tension within you. each step of the plan felt cold, clinical, designed to strip away any sense of the life you shared outside these games. with every passing day, the distance between hwang in-ho, your husband, and the front man became more glaring, and you wondered if you could truly separate the two when it mattered most.

˚ ༘♡ you knelt by your son’s bedside, planting a soft kiss against his forehead. his small hand clung to your finger, and for a vanishing moment, you felt the crushing weight of guilt threaten to undo you. you whispered promises you weren’t sure you could keep, telling him you would be back soon, that everything would be fine. as his breathing slowed in sleep, you lingered a minute longer, memorizing the curve of his face and the delicate skin of his tiny hand before slipping away with your husband.

˚ ༘♡ the player uniforms were a tight, oppressive reminder of the role you had agreed to take on. the white and forest-green fabric felt rough against your skin, the stitched numbers, 001 on him, 077 on you, marking you both as part of this wicked charade. the air between you was dense with unspoken tension as you followed his lead into the heart of the games.

˚ ༘♡ the aftermath of the first game hit you like a physical blow. scarlet-red blood smeared the walls, the metallic stench thick enough to taste. lifeless bodies were being dragged away by masked figures, their uniforms pristine against the carnage. your stomach churned violently, and you had to bite down hard to keep from retching. your husband walked ahead, his pace measured, his face a mask of icy detachment.

˚ ༘♡ yet, even as he feigned indifference, you noticed the subtle tension p his clenched fists and the hard line of his jaw. no matter how disciplined and resolute he was, pretending you were a stranger clearly cost him some of his will power.

˚ ༘♡ you entered the massive dormitory, a cavernous space where the remaining players huddled in groups, their expressions etched with terror and disbelief. the room was alive with murmurs, frantic whispers of confusion and distress as they tried to process what had happened. the realization of the deadly nature of the games hung over the crowd, suffocating and inescapable.

˚ ༘♡ abruptly, a piercing voice broke through the calamity, commanding and filled with urgency. all eyes turned to player 456, a man whose presence seemed to dominate the room. his words were bold, calling for a vote in accordance with the consent clause, a chance for the players to decide whether they would continue or abandon the games. the idea rippled through the crowd, igniting faint glimmers of hope in some and deepening the despair in others.

˚ ༘♡ your husband moved slightly, a subtle shift in his stance catching your attention. his gaze flicked toward you, so brief it was almost imperceptible. then, with deliberate movements, he traced a small circle on the back of his hand, an action so precise it disturbed you. he turned away before you could react, his focus now on the masked enforcers who were setting up the voting station.

˚ ༘♡ it took you a moment to understand the message. he wanted you to vote in favor of continuing the games. the realization landed suddenly. you clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as you tried to steady yourself. the thought of condemning the remaining players to more death and suffering was unbearable, but you understood what his silent gesture meant. if the games ended now, everything he had planned, every risk he had taken, would amount to nothing.

˚ ༘♡ the apprehension caused your chest to tighten further as the masked figures prepared the voting station, their movements mechanical and precise. the voices of the players rose, some pleading for an end, others arguing to stay. you felt your pulse quicken, the enormity of what you were about to do pressing down on you as you prepared to cast a vote that would decide not only the fate of the players but the course of your husband’s dangerous mission.

a/n: the winner of the fanfiction vote, but i will definitely be writing for cho sang-woo as well! i hope you all enjoy reading! let me know if you have anymore requests! 🤍

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝

A/N: in a gojo state of mind 😵‍💫

Wc ≈ 800

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: hubby Satoru the type to do you so good the night before that you limp into the kitchen the next morning

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, SMUT, pns (good girl, baby), dirty talk, 🐱 eating, light size kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, breeding kink, multiple rounds, sex-crazed Gojo, implied bj

“Fuck baby, cream on me. Yeah, make a mess on this dick – spell your name on it. ‘S so fuckin’ hot – uhhh fuck – good girl’s stretchin’ s’much for daddy’s cock. Feel that? Feel me hittin’ those spots you can’t reach with your fingers?”

A ring of white cream froths up with each plunge of his cock back into your sloppy, sore pussy.

Your pretty husband suddenly slips out with a pop and impatiently lowers his face to level with your hips, burying himself into your pussy, licking a stripe up your thigh to start. He savors the sticky sweet taste that’s leaking out from his pretty wife. He loves it more than he should. When he eats you out, it feels as if he’s the one deriving pleasure from it.

“So fucking hot. You this wet n’ eager for me, baby? You needed this dick bad, huh? Uh-huh. Fucking cum on my tongue, I wannah fweel ih.” His words muffle as he sinks his tongue into your hole, swirling and wiggling it around, rubbing his tip into the roof, curling it up into your sweet spot.

He’s got a long tongue and he knows how to use it right. It feels like he’s French-kissing you down there.

His lips end up pressed flush against your lower lips, but even when his tongue reached as far as it can inside your hole, he’s still not satisfied – he keeps trying to get impossibly deeper.

And Gojo’s not a wasteful boy; he laps and slurps up your juices and gulps them down without letting even a drop spill. He eats it ‘till he’s out of breath, giving you orgasm after orgasm ‘till you go dumb and weak.

“God, you taste so fucking good. Hey baby? Still with me? C’mon, keep those eyes open. ‘Want you to watch me eat this pretty pussy.”

He can keep going and going, his stamina is seemingly infinite. When you squirm away from the overstimulation, he brings you closer to him again, hooking his arms around your thighs to lock you in place. He tugs you down and holds your hips tight, like he’s trying to show off his superior strength.

That pretty upturned nose swipes between your plush lips, nudging and bumping into your clit as he tongue-fucks you eagerly – as if he’s never gotten a taste of something so delicious before.

When he pulls away, his face is a mess; there’s a streak of your juices across his cheek that rubbed off from your inner thigh, and more running down his chin showing off how much you gushed for him. Happy with how fucked-out he’s rendered you with his tongue, he shoves himself back inside you like a feverish animal. Gojo fucks like a damn beast.

“God, baby, ‘gonna cum again. Take it. Take my cum n’ have my baby. Wanna see you holding my child.”

After he creams all inside you, he slips it out and slaps his heavy cock on your clit, smearing some cum over your plush lips. He loves stroking back and forth between them – the feeling alone of your pussy hugging his fat cock makes him get hard again in no time. It’s like he didn’t soften at all. Sometimes a little more cum spurts out and paints your clit, so he chuckles.

There’s such a mess. A sloppy, delicious mix of cum and cream, spit and sweat, precum and pussyjuice.

“We’re not done, baby. ‘Gotta fuck my cum into you ‘till I’ve got nothing left. Daddy’s knocking up that sweet pussy, t’night, m’kay? Good girl, hold those legs back f’me. Let me have you.”

A moment later, you’re back to screaming, creaming, clawing at his meaty biceps for support and comfort as he pounds into you like some sex-crazed fiend. Panting like crazy, skin slapping together, voices shaking – not even your moans sound coherent anymore, let alone your words. The most coherent thing coming out of your mouth is a chant of his favorite nickname; daddy daddy daddy.

He totally breaks you at night.

Then come the morning, he’s calmly eating cereal in the kitchen, thumbing through his socials and chirping a nonchalant “Mornin’, baby, how’d you sleep?” at you when you come limping out the bedroom with wild bed hair.

“Don’t you “Mornin’ baby” me!” you mutter groggily.

He grins devilishly at you. “Sorry, was I too hard on you last night?”

“Mmm…” you hum contemplatively, floating over to him so he can do what he always does the morning after good sex – and that is take you into his lap.

You rest your head on his muscular shoulder and tease into his ear, “Not hard enough, daddy ~ ” just to get him hard through his sweatpants.

It’s his turn to tease. But he does it better; he makes your stomach drop to the floor.

“You need me so bad even this early in the morning, huh? M'kay, get on your knees, 'gonna give you some breakfast.”

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

[retroaria]

Hello! I'm not sure if you write for Karasu from Blue lock but if do you can I request first time hcs for him? If you don't write for him, Sae works too :D

✶ first time!

itoshi sae + karasu tabito x fem!reader

a/n: i definitely wanna do these for all the other guys after my event ends!

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

➜ itoshi sae

when you and sae first started dating he was quick to try and initiate sex, feeling a bit confused if you were to tell him you wanted to wait.

once you are ready to have sex with him he plays it off like it’s no big deal but he secretly is fighting back his own excitement.

it shows in his eagerness to have you undressed beneath him. he takes your clothes off like a savage and immediately aims to mark you up, kissing and nibbling at your skin as his hands graze your body up and down squeezing and gripping at certain areas. sae is the kind of guy who gets off on the feeling of soft clean skin, so he takes his time appreciating your entire body.

normally he’d be more rough, but for your first time he decides to be a bit more gentle with everything. instead of eating you out like a madman he laps at your clit with a leisurely pace and curls his fingers into you slow but still striking.

he’d fuck you in standard missionary so he can moan softly in your ear and have you moaning in his. also likes to nibble at your neck and jaw.

his pace is at a comfy medium. he just doesn’t have it in him to make his thrusts slow and steady, but he enjoys slowing down a bit if only for the ability to make each thrust hit hard against your sweet spot to ensure your nails keep digging into his shoulders and biceps the entire time (his favorite fucking thing omg).

pull out > condom, unless you ask him to wear one which he would be fine with but he prefers not to. keeps his cock snug between your walls for as long as he possibly can. when sae’s close to orgasm he fully nuzzles his face in your neck and wraps his arms underneath you to pull you impossibly closer. he isn’t a loud moaner but his soft low groans are like audible porn.

sae’s aftercare doesn’t feel like he put in a lot of effort but it’s still good bc he basically just has you do all the stuff he would want to do himself after sex. shower, water, snuggle up.

➜ karasu tabito

he’d be so patient if you wanted to wait for the relationship to get more serious! he’s a player for sure but when he’s locked in he’s locked in.

he would want to make it a romantic and intimate experience for you, but he wouldn’t go all out. he’d take you on a beautiful date before hand and he’d run a nice bath for you after, sweet but not too sweet.

loves foreplay omg don’t get me started.

i headcanon him as a beast in the sheets but on the low he loves slow sensual sex. wants to kiss and lick your entire body, have his face smothered between your legs for as long as possible, rubs his cock between your folds so long he almost cums right then and there before stopping himself. loves the way you whimper for him as his tip glides back and forth against your sensitive clit.

he’s got a cheeky smirk on his face the entire time, even while his eyes flutter shut as he slides his cock between your warm wet walls for the first time.

this might be an odd opportunity but i feel like for your first few times with him he’d really amp up the dirty talk and probably drop it later into the relationship unless you happen to really like it lol. he’d drop himself down so he can speak directly in your ear, telling you how good you’re taking him and how incredible you feel wrapped around his cock between his low groans and thrusts.

look at me trying out new themes!! :D

mdni divider creds: @adornedwithlight so cute :3

[dollwrites]

ɪɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs, ɪ…! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sᴜɴᴅᴀʏ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, innocent!reader & manipulative!sunday, religious setting ( confessional ), mildly dark ( suggested mind control and dub con to cnc fantasies ), dub con, humiliation, masturbation ( him! ). all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act seven [ masturbation ]

this was the third time.

the third time you’d found yourself sitting here.

the third time within the Cathedral of Morning Dew, perched and squirming uncomfortably in the claustrophobic cubicle, fumbling with your own fingers against the lace details of your skirt as it splayed across your knees— one of them bouncing as a testament to your anxiety and causing your voice to shake.

the third time you were confessing to Sunday.

“I’m sorry,” you feel like you should apologize, so your voice shyly fills the cool air around you. “You must have so many other important matters to tend to—“

“Nonsense.” Sunday replies with an impossibly soft and alluring purr in his gentle baritone. he’s positioned close enough to the lattice partition that he can almost whisper it to you, like a secret for only you to hear. “Penacony’s sons and daughters and their concerns are of utmost importance to me.” though it was meant as reassurance, your cheeks are aflame with embarrassment. to be coddled by a man with as much power as Sunday did make you feel like a helpless child that cries to her father when she’s upset. “Go on, my dear. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

you glance around the cubicle, eyes landing on the candle that endlessly burns beside you, yet no hot wax trickles down on to the pristine floor, nor does heat emit from the flame. even if you blew on it, you doubted that it would go out. as was the whimsicality of the Dreamscape. “It’s these… fantasies again,” you start, timidly bringing up a topic that had been the prompt for you to seek Sunday out every time. gnawing desires for things you knew you couldn’t have— desires for him. “It’s getting harder for me to tell them apart from, well, what’s really happening. The one’s I’ve had recently seem so… immersive.”

Sunday is a quiet for a moment before calmly asking, “Your condition is getting more severe? These fantasies are worrying you?”

“Well, yes.” you answer, choosing your words carefully. “They’re… very…” for all the words there were that could describe what these daydreams about Sunday were ( vulgar, lustful, depraved ), you could force none to breach your lips.

“Naughty?” Sunday offers, and you can almost hear the fond, ghost of a smile that tickles the corners of his lips. it only makes your blush hotter and more furious.

you bite down in your lower lip, rolling it between your teeth as your eyes look towards the latticework. you can only see the outline of his halo, and the glinting of the candlelight as it reflects off the piercings in his wings. squinting slightly, you attempt to make out more details. the softness of his silvery hair, always just so with not a single tendril out of place. the flawlessness of his supple, milky skin, until he turns his head, just a bit, and a glimmering, golden gaze nearly captures yours. with a soft squeak, realizing you’d been staring— wanting, you quickly avert your gaze. “Mhm…!”

you can feel his eyes on you for several more moments, but you can’t bring yourself to look up at him, deciding instead to stare at your bouncing knee.

“And what happens in these naughty, little daydreams of yours?”

a lump forms in your throat, and your mouth goes dry at the prospect of describing to Sunday the way you yearn for him. so, instead of answering right away, you shrink away from the lattice until you no longer feel him gazing at you. the cathedral is eerily silent, and you can hear the flapping of Charmony Dove wings outside. “My dear,” Sunday begins in a calm, patient tone, “you know that you must confess them to me, no matter how deplorable. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Now, don’t be shy. You’re safe here with me. You know this, yes?”

you had always felt safe in the warmth of his presence, so you nod again, though you didn’t think he was looking at you anymore. still, you were naive for thinking so. a perfectly gullible, little prey.

Sunday could hear the trepidation in your voice as you began, and he was smiling to himself, imagining the flustered look on your dreamy countenance as you recall how you fantasize about him. with slow, graceful movements, he pinches the very tips of the fingers of one glove, pulling it from his hand. his fingers wiggle once they’re freed from their cloth confinement, which he drapes neatly over his knee.

“In these… dreams, I come to you late at night, when no one else is around…”

“Do you?” he asks, amused, his bare fingers drumming lightly on his thigh silently. “All alone in secret? For what purpose?” he knows why. after all, he’s the culprit behind these eerily realistic fantasies. however, he wants to hear you say it.

“To— um,” you pause, your sheepishness getting the better of you. “Offer myself to you.”

Sunday exhales through his nose to keep a low sound of satisfaction from filling the air, and alerting you to his arousal. hearing how humiliated you are, it tightens the muscles in his lower abdomen, and a tent begins to form in his trousers, which he promptly rubs against his palm. “Oh…?” he asks, almost in a teasing, condescending lilt, murmuring, “In these fantasies of yours, do I accept the offer? Do I take you for myself? Steal your innocence like a wicked thief in the night?” even though his voice remained even, his heart was thumping. his cock jabbed uncomfortably against the fabric of his clothes, and he was busying himself with the task of freeing it.

“Mhm…. Many times,” you answer, and the way your voice breaks, Sunday can practically see your lower lip quivering. it only makes him harder to think about that, and your sparkling eyes welling up with tears. once his cock springs free, standing at attention, he wraps his bare hand around it in a loose fist, and purses his lips together to suppress a grunt. veins throb beneath his skin, the tip twitching as beads of translucent nectar bubbles up from the eager slit. “In many different ways. Sometimes, you— you’re rough with me.”

the tremors that shake your voice when you say this do not go unnoticed by Sunday, who closes his eyes, bringing the fantasy he’d handpicked to implant deep within your mind to the surface of his own. it was one of his favorites, and he was quite pleased that it affected you the most. though his memory wasn’t tampered with, as yours was, and so he couldn’t conjure all the sensations or watch the fantasy like a movie in his mind, he could imagine the sight of you beneath his wandering hands. how they tore at your delicate, little dress. ripping the neckline open to expose your pert breasts for him to grope and squeeze. the way he would imagine you to whimper and wince, perhaps even squirm, and he would have to spare a hand to wrap it around your throat and hold you down— pin you in place so you couldn’t escape him. he would whisper to you that as long as you’re a sweet, obedient darling, he would be gentle. but this was, of course, a lie. the way you would peer up at his figure as he forces his way between your trembling thighs, and the way you would cry out once he finally got his cock inside you, it would be your way of begging him to break you. your mouth could lie, and whine that he was hurting you, or that you want him to be careful with you, but deep down, you wanted him to dominate you. to decimate and own you. he knew this to be fact because he had designed this little dream to convince you of it.

all whilst his imagination ran wild, his thumb runs deftly along his leaking slit, applying enough pressure to milk the swollen, red tip until his precum begins to dribble down the length of his cock, slickening the skin. his palm glides down his needy length, fingers clamping down, until the side of his fist rests against the base, before he slowly drags it back upwards towards the tip, setting a torturously slow tempo for himself. “And in this daydream of yours,” he purrs, only parting his lips wide enough to allow the words to slip through, lest a sound of ecstasy also escape, “You love it when I’m rough with you.” it wasn’t a question. it was a matter of fact. “I can hear it in the way your voice quivers, my dear, you’re ashamed of yourself. Humiliated because, albeit untouched, your little cunt gets so wet when you think about me abusing it.”

“S—Sunday…”

“Mm?” he taunts in a soft voice, as if daring you to challenge the truth. “It’s true, isn’t it? Deplorable, vulgar, and embarrassing to admit, but impossible to deny that you’ve soiled your panties many a time when you imagine how a man like me could use your body all up, and leave you in a state of ruin.”

“Y—yes…” it’s exactly what he’d expected to hear, and yet his core throbs the second he does. he leans back, just enough to brace his back against the wall of his cubicle, and adjust his feet. spreading them further apart. “I—I can't help it…”

“Poor, little thing.” Sunday croons, his slender eyebrows furrowing as he pumps himself harder and faster. “So helpless.” his fist alternates by squeezing and releasing, in the same rhythm that he imagines your virgin pussy would spasm if he was inside, and the sensations were already driving him to the brink. Sunday tilts his head back against the wall, hissing out a soft groan under his breath. part of him even wants you to hear that little sound of pleasure, to realize what he’s doing— getting off on your distress. on your desperate, wanton lust for him. however, if you do hear it, you’re too shy to draw attention to it. too bad, he thinks, if she had only caught me, i would have the innocent, little thing gagging on my cock right here in this booth…

“Wh—what should I do?” your shy question snaps him back to the moment at hand. “About these fantasies. I feel— I feel like they’re only getting more depraved and… scary…”

Sunday has to seal his tiers tightly together, lest a breathy chuckle bubble up from his throat at just how frightened by your own desires ( or, at least, the ones he’s convinced you are yours ) you are. it was cute to him. adorable how eager you are to make these naughty visages go away before they spiral out of control, when that is exactly what he was waiting for. “You needn’t worry, you know this.” he manages to force the words out, even as he stroked himself, coming undone in his own palm to the thought of deceiving you. plucking away the petals of your fragile, little mind until you were compliant and easy enough to do the same deflowering to your body. “I will always be here for you, I will always take care of you.” as he says this, he milks his cock, slowly dragging a tight fist up from the base, coaxing a slowly oozing release from the engorged head. a couple of rogue streamers splatter silently against the floor between his feet, but he pays the mess no mind. instead, he retrieves a handkerchief from his breast pocket and carefully wipes the mess on his lap— cum glazing his bare hand and the length of his shaft, down to where it began to frost his now empty balls, just before reaching the fabric of his trousers. it was unsurprisingly that he looked pristine once he was cleaned and tucked back into his pants. the soiled handkerchief is forgotten on the bench, in exchange for his glove still resting across his knee. he slips it back on before he stands, taking only a moment to smooth his vest and jacket before escaping the now stuffy air of the booth. with a soft knock on the door to your side, he waits for you to come out, too. a gentle smile on his face, and the dusky blush fading into his normal complexion by the time you emerge.

when you open the door, it creaks a bit, and you glance down at the hinges, before looking up to find Sunday incredibly close. the subtle musk from his refined cologne tickling your nostrils, but that wasn’t all. there was another smell that was quite unfamiliar, and yet seemed to spark a low bubble in your belly, but you couldn’t place it. you shrink away from him with a sheepish smile, your back pressing against the door of the booth when he takes a step closer, effectively blocking you from leaving. “Your condition is my concern,” he assures you with a gentle smile, before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little vial of pinkish, glowing liquid. it was familiar to you— the same elixir he’d given you the last two times you’d come to him. to help with the symptoms, he says.

“Th—thank you, Sunday—“ you whisper, reaching a trembling hand for the vial in his, but what he does next surprises you. grasping your wrist with the other, he presses the vial against your palm and covers your fingers with his, wrapping them tightly, and he leans in with a softer whisper.

“Remember to place a single drop on your tongue. Every. Single. Night.” when you nod, flustered by so much physical contact, he smiles fondly, and releases your hand. “Very good girl.” he appraises, before his right hand falls to rest behind his back, yet his left lingers, creeping up to trace the shape of your mouth. piercing, golden eyes for us on your lips, his own curled into a gentle smile.

“P—please don’t tell anyone… about my condition.” you whisper, your eyes big and hopeful. you didn’t believe he would, but it was something you always needed to plead for before you left.

Sunday chuckles softly at this, and presses a gloved thumb to the seam of your lips, applying pressure until your lips open and it nearly slips inside. “You and I have many secrets together,” he murmurs in reply, before his gaze flits back up to your eyes, locking them into an intense contact that has you shifting back and forth on your feet. “But that is why we must trust one another. Unconditionally. Do you trust me, my dear? Unconditionally?”

[tulip-room]

ch. 2 rotten fruit || masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter || wc: 5.5k || all hq works

When Friday morning finally comes she sleeps in later than she has all week. She shoots up from her bed with a gasp when she realizes what time it is. As she is about to get out of the warm quilted comfort of her bed she remembers that they’re only going to the farmer’s market today. The day off every two weeks they both take. She sleeps for another two hours and stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes before she tumbles out of her bed. Her leg gets stuck in the blankets and she falls to her knees on the hardwood flooring of her home. She rubs her knees as she rests her back against the frame of her bed before standing up with a pop as she stretches and picks out an outfit for the day. 

The hot heat of June causes her to choose a pair of shorts and a patterned t-shirt. The fabric is lightweight and comfortable. She opts to skip on makeup, she won’t be inside for the makeup to stop from melting off her face. She does however put on sunscreen, a protection from the harsh UV rays she’ll be in for at least a few hours. She’s grabbing her purse as Kita rings the doorbell. A smile appears on her face as she opens the door. Her eyes scan over him and her mouth drops open a bit at how nice he looks. Although the shirt is supposed to be loose it clings to his arms and chest before growing looser the further down it goes. His jeans look new and are cuffed so you can see the freshly cleaned boots he wears. The threading has faded with age, and dirt has found a permanent residence in the crevices of the footwear but it’s clear an effort was made to clean up if his brushed to the side hair has anything to say about it. 

She can’t help it as her hand reaches up and messes up the parting, roughing it up so it looks more closely to how it typically does. “You look nice today,” there’s a gentle lilt to her voice. It raises towards the end of the sentence and a gentle smile makes a home on her face. 

“You look nice too,” his cheeks are slightly reddened as he hovers his hand over the small of her back on the way to the car. A hand reaches around and opens her door for her and he feels his chest flutter at the smile that takes hold of her face. “It’s a little dusty, sorry I didn’t warn you earlier but considering what we do for work I didn’t think you would mind too much.” His hand rubs at the back of his neck.

“That’s fine, I kind of assumed it might be.” She gives him a thumbs up and he closes the door before walking around to the otherside of his truck. “What kind of CDs do you have in here?” She pops open the glove box and is greeted with various Garth Brooks, Johnny Cash, Dylan Gosset, Noah Kahan CDs, an extra pair of work gloves, and a singular copy of a Cigarettes After Sex album. “Hmm, not what I expected but I’m not disappointed at least,” she says as she lifts up the CD. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re not disappointed,” he chuckles and pulls out of her driveway and down the road towards the market. The ride to the market is filled with small talk. Mostly from Kita’s part, he feels like he wants to know everything about her. It’s a craving, to know her on a deeper level; one not so professional. When they get out of the car a layer of dust covers his boots and he curses mentally at the action. 

“Where to first?” He hates how cute he’s already finding her mannerisms, how she sways side to side when she asks the question. How her hold on her bag tightens slightly and she leans closer to him. His hand finds its normal spot hovering over the small of her back and the next words out of her mouth make him feel like he short circuits. “You can put your hand on my back, you know, I don’t mind.” Her own hand reaches back and moves his hand so it’s pressing against her. 

Her back grows warmer from the weight of his hand that’s now pressed against it, Kita takes an exhale and relaxes.  There wasn’t a need to be worried if she was okay, he was thinking too much into things. It was a simple friendly gesture, there to make sure she didn’t fall. “If we go in here,” he points towards the right of the outlet, “then we’ll be closer to the sweets.” He leans closer as he explains it to her, their faces almost touching. 

Her breath hitches lightly at the proximity before she clears her throat and shifts slightly. “Then we should start at the other end, that way if we get sweets that melt they’ll be in a better state when we get back.” She begins to turn her head but when her cheek brushes against his she jerks away slightly.

“I like the way you think,” she feels as the pressure from his firm hand on her back eases. As it presses just barely against her shirt instead of pressed flat against her back where she can feel the warmth of his hand. The warmth is barely a whisper now. A phantom warmth takes its place as goosebumps rise in a trail on her skin. “Let’s get to it while we still have daylight,” his hand touches her back for a second to urge her forward. Not in a demanding way, it rests against the fabric of her shirt and she almost wishes it was against her skin instead. 

She clears her throat again and steps forward, her teeth worry her lip as she tries not to think about his hand again. They walk side by side into the small marketplace, not one has said a word since they began moving. She’s not sure yet if it’s comfortable silence or the stuffy kind that contorts around you and forces its way into spaces between noise. That plugs your ears and makes you clear your throat more often than necessary, words getting caught before they can make their way out. 

“Do you want a drink?” The bubble pops. The small smile Kita offers her a light making its way through the fog of silence. 

“So forward,” she jokes and looks around at the stalls to see what he could be talking about. He shakes his head and no matter how faint the touch she feels his hand move down her back and his fingertips brush against her arm before linking gently with hers. She can’t help the shiver that races down her spine or the heat that fills her face. 

“Non-alcoholic beverages, they have good iced cider. We can go out on a different weekend for drinks.” He says it so calmly, like a usual occurrence for him. Maybe it is, all she can think about is the weight of his hand in hers and how nice it feels. How warm it is. She’s not sure how she’s able to stand it in the June heat, it crawls up her neck and makes her feel like her blood is boiling just beneath the surface. 

“Iced cider sounds so good right now,” she’s aware of her mess. How it spills around the edges, Kita seems to step around the areas that puddle and sink into the ground. As he gently moves with her to the shop she’s aware of words ringing in her ears but it feels like too much. They don’t quite reach her mind, don’t form sentences. Would he lift under her surface and dissect her mess? Would he place down a towel and not mind scrubbing the red from the fibers. 

Would the secrets leave her as easily as the seeds do when he takes care in unfolding her. In laying her down and making precise decisions on where to hold. Would he hold her gently? Cradle her against his chest, hold her like she’s precious, hold her like she’s lovable. Would he love— “—are you okay?” She feels a squeeze on her arm and feels the cool and rough texture of brick on her back. 

“What?” It’s only now does she realize her breathing is strained and her heart feels like it’s hammering in her chest. 

“Can I put my hand here?” He asks as he hovers a hand over her chest. When she nods she feels the steady pressure and he places one hand on his own chest. “Breathe with me.” She watches his chest rise and fall deeply a few times before following along with him. Slowly they slide to the ground and her head falls towards his shoulder. 

Neither say anything as people pass by, hoping they aren’t seen. Kita adjusts his body, covering her from the view of pedestrians taking a quick glance. She puts her hand over his own on her chest and her head slowly raises from his shoulder. There’s a frown tugging at his lips and despite his efforts to keep his face neutral she can see the concern swirling in his eyes. 

“I’m—“

“Please don’t say you’re sorry. It’s okay to feel things, we can sit here as long as you need to. It’s a nice shade from the sun,” he tries to move his hand away but she holds it tighter against her as her eyes squeeze shut. Read between the lines. Don’t make me say it. “I used to have pretty bad panic attacks when I was in high school.” Him? He seems so collected. 

He turns his hand over and holds hers again. The concrete of the market makes cracks as his shoes scrape against it and their sides lean against the brick. “Routine is what keeps me from falling off, from cracking. It’s not everything though, anxiety still happens. I have days where I feel off: days where no matter how hard I try I just can’t do anything, and the little voice in my brain tells me how dumb it is that I can’t do something I do all the time. You’re allowed to feel things, and don’t feel the need to explain yourself to me. I understand that we can’t always know why we feel a certain way.” 

“It’s my ex.” He nods but doesn’t push or ask for more information, just gently squeezes her hand. “He…he said some things that messed me up.” She watches as his brows furrow slightly before trying to return to a normal position. “Made…made me feel like a mess.” 

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something before licking his lips and closing his mouth again. Her head tilts as she tries to analyze his face, the hills and crevices, the smile lines by his mouth, the way his nose curves slightly to the left. “You’re not a mess, things can feel like one though. I know my words won’t solve your problems but…if you’d like I can help you with them.” 

“You don’t make me feel like a mess.” Her words feel worth it when she sees the dimple on his right cheek appear as a smile crosses his face. “You don’t have to help me, I can work through this on my own.” 

“But you don’t have to. I won’t push you, but it’s okay to ask for help.” He sees her twitch and start to slowly rise from the ground. He follows suit and when her hands loosen from his he lets go and allows his hands to drop to his sides. The pebbles scatter to the ground as they wipe off their pants. “We can leave if you would rather I drive you home.” It’s a way out, she doesn’t have to be here. Doesn’t have to dress fancy and pose pretty for cameras or important people. She can leave, they will leave when she wants to. 

“Let’s go get some of that cider you were talking about. I think I could use some of it.” She smiles at him and while the weight on her shoulders still forces her to bend down it’s a little lighter than it was moments ago. He accepted her mess and cleaned the red stains from the towel. He didn’t step around the mess or cause her to bleed more, he gently held her and allowed her to peel her own layers away. To open on her own.

 Her hand reaches over, he jolts slightly before offering his palm to her. Their hands link together, little care for the heat of the sun blazing down on them before the relief of cool air hits them inside one of the shops. There are very few words said for the rest of their time spent at the market, only small comments about the products up for sale; neither mention her panic attack from earlier and for that she is grateful. 

“This was nice, thank you Kita.” He nods as he helps her back into the truck and closes the door behind her. He hops in on his own side and starts the car. She opens the glovebox again and puts in a CD, she puts in the first one she grabs as she didn’t bother to look. It closes with a click and she turns back to face Kita.

“You can call me Shinsuke,” the last part is muffled as his hand covers his mouth. She can tell that he is clearly avoiding eye contact. “It’s only fair since I call you Y/N.” Her hand reaches over the console and taps his arm lightly, he glances at her for a moment before dropping his hand, she laces their fingers together again. 

“Okay, Shinsuke.” The name feels foreign on her lips but there’s an ever growing smile creeping onto her face at the sound of it. Shinsuke, she likes it. From the corner of her eye she can see his dimple appear on his cheek. Her chest grows warm and she turns her head to watch the rolling hills as they drive back to the farm. At some point her eyes must have closed because the next time that she opens them her head is rested against Kita’s chest and his arm is under her legs as he carries her to her door. “Hmmm?”

“Is your house key in your pocket?” She takes a few moments to process the words before nodding as she tries to get closer to him. He unlocks the door and carries her through with ease, she can hear him take a breath like he’s about to ask something but the words never come. She hears the small creaks of the floorboards as he passes over them, the clank of her keys falling into the ceramic bowl by the door. She hears the click of a door and the way the hinges squeak as it’s pushed open. Feels the comfort of her blankets and pillows as she’s tucked in. 

“Shinsuke,” she hears how his breath hitches at the sleepy call of his name. 

“Y/N,” the bed dips from the weight of him sitting on the very edge of it, his hand rests next to him and her eyes open slowly. She almost brings her hand out to hold his again but drowsiness takes hold of her and she struggles to keep her eyes open. She’s aware of the breathy chuckle that leaves Kita’s mouth and how he shifts closer to her. She could bask in this warmth the whole night. 

“Thank you for today,” her eyes flutter closed again and a soft breath escapes her lips as she feels a soft warmness on her forehead. She feels the warmth of Kita’s breath on her skin before a small chill takes its place as he sits back up. “I had a lot of fun.” She pulls the blankets closer to her to make up for the chill.

“Thank you for coming with me, I’ll take you anytime.” He rises from the bed and his boots clank lightly against the wooden panels of her bedroom floor. They pause briefly as he takes in a sharp inhale of breath. “And for the record…I don’t think you’re a mess. Good night Y/N,” the words don’t register until she hears the hum of a car and the rocks crunching under the tires as it pulls away and she’s left with the white noise of her room. 

The words are all she can think about for the rest of the week. All she can think about when they’re sticking jams and jellies onto shelves of their stall, when his hand brushes hers when getting cash from the drawer. I don’t think you’re a mess. That one sentence whispered like a prayer when she wasn’t even awake enough to respond. The words feel like they still hang in her room, dangling from her door like lights and casting a glow on her every time she enters. 

A light touch on her back brings her to the present, her head whipping to face Kita whose expression is laced with concern, his brows are furrowed and his teeth are worrying a spot on his lip. “Are you okay?” The words are whispered as he leans closer and she swears she can feel his breath dancing on her ear. She nods but refuses to open her mouth, the words will surely jumble the minute they are released from their confinement. She sticks to her practiced script, one she’s gotten used to over the weeks Kita has taken her to the farmer’s market and allowed her to work the counter on days he opens the shop. 

She’s not sure when the touches stopped hesitating and their gazes started lingering on each other. When whole sentences were paused in favor of tracing the structure of the other’s face. They never speak of it, how they grow closer to each other before snapping back to reality and acting like nothing ever happened. When the older women who visit to buy jams and breads ask if they’re a couple, wonder how long they’ve been together. She always shrugs it off with a laugh and tells them their total, how she’s not ready for a relationship. She sees Kita’s expression falter in these moments but can’t bring herself to think of why. She can’t imagine a world where someone like Kita loves her, where anyone loves her. 

When the September chill hits the air she’s grown used to Kita leaving her to attend the shop once a month, the responsibility reminds her of how far she’s come. Twice a month, he’ll haul bags of rice into the bed of his truck and she’ll watch him clamber inside of the vehicle and hear the crunching of the rocks as he drives away down the hill. Part of her thinks Kita doesn’t take her on these trips into the city because of words spilled over in states of panic. The only other day Kita makes deliveries he gives her the day off. An “appreciation for her hard work” as he called it.  A weird sense of protection to stop her from spilling over again. In a way she appreciates it, it’s been 8 months since her relationship with Atsumu ended, maybe it’s time to try and brave the city. See his face on billboards and magazines, maybe she can do it as long as Kita is there. 

She enjoys her time in her home all the same. It’s come a long way since she first moved in, there’s a new coat of paint on the walls of her home, and new light switch covers. Pictures hanging up from her time in high school, it’s weird to think about. How she never tried to get in contact with those people again, the ones that were so important to her once. Her favorite part however had been her crafts room. Where paintings littered the walls and paper was scattered on the floor, where bins of ribbon sat neatly stacked but messily put away. It was something she never had energy for before she moved, the quiet simplicities of having time on her hands. She almost wants to thank Atsumu for being such an asshole, if he had been perfect she never would have gotten the chance to live how she does now. She shakes her head as the thought passes, there’s no point in thinking of ‘what ifs’ it only hurts more.

When he returns she’s counting the drawer, she pauses when she hears the creak of the door as it opens. She looks up for a moment to give him a smile, he gives her a nod in return. He makes his way around the counter, flipping the wooden flap up and placing it gently on the table as he slides an envelope towards her. She finishes counting the cash from the drawer and places it into the envelope, she adds the total from the drawer below the total already written on the paper. “Hey Shinsuke?” he hums in response and turns to face her. He leans against the back counter and crosses his arms. “Can I go with you next time you go out for deliveries?” There’s silence for a few moments, like he’s carefully calculating his next words. 

“I don’t have a problem with it. Missing the city?” He smiles slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“No,” she shakes her head. “Just the thing with my ex, I think I’m finally ready to go back to where it ended. The next step in healing,” the words feel freeing as she says them. She hasn’t talked about it with anyone except for the few brief moments where Kita had to calm her down.

“Did he mess you up that bad?” He pushes off the counter and rests a hand on her shoulder. 

“Compared to some horror stories I’ve seen it’s nothing, I’m probably just being dramatic.” She sighs and looks away, her shoulders slump and his hand falls off her shoulder. There’s a small frown on his face as he moves his hand to cradle her cheek, his thumb rubs gently against her cheek and he rests his forehead against hers.

“It’s not nothing if it hurts you. Sometimes what we perceive as the smallest things actually affect us the most. The smallest breeze sometimes knocks over the biggest tree.” That gets a small laugh out of her although her hand reaches up quickly to cover her mouth. “There’s that smile,” she makes a point of forcing a frown on her face. Whenever Kita is with her it feels like she’s safe, she grows warm and the walls she carefully built start to crumble. “How about we finally go get that drink?” His voice lilts up towards the end of his question, it’s amazing how a few short months away will completely change a person. He lifts his head from hers, hand still gently holding her face. 

“I think I would like that.” They silently help each other clean up the rest of the shop and Kita closes the door behind them. With a click the door locks and they make their way to his truck. “Should either of us be driving?”

“I said a drink, not drunk.” He lets out a small laugh and turns on the car. She’s grown familiar with the hills and valleys that make up the country side, finds comfort in their gentle rolls. She rolls her eyes and places her chin in the palm of her hand as her elbow rests on the window. She watches as the hills roll, the birds fly, and the sun begins to lower itself over the hills. The day is ending, it’s ending and she finds herself starting to feel okay about it because tomorrow the sun will rise again and the day will start anew. She will still be okay tomorrow. Soon she won’t have to say she’ll be okay, she’ll just be okay. It won’t be much of a challenge with Kita around, the comfort he brings her is already unmatched.

When they make it to the bar it’s not overly packed, there are a few patrons lining the counter and a few sitting at tables spread out across the room. The music is playing a little louder than it maybe should be but it’s not overly annoying. Kita’s hand rests against her back as he leads her to a table, the warmth of his hand is a comfort she’s grown used to over the months that she’s known him. If it weren’t for him she wouldn’t be as happy as she is now, a smile unknowingly creeps onto her face. Kita’s hand holds hers as she sits down in the booth and slides to sit in the middle of the cushioned seat. He chooses to sit across from her, arms folded on the table and fingers lightly tap tap tapping the smooth vinyl surface of the table. 

She reaches for a menu at the end of the table, near the condiments, and starts flipping open the pages. She lays it flat on the table as her eyes scan the words and prices. “Come here often?” It’s meant as a genuine question but sounds more like a bad pick-up line. She cringes lightly at herself when his eyes flicker over to her and a teasing smile appears on his face. 

“Why do you want to know? Hoping to see me more?” He lifts one arm from the table and rests his head in the palm of his hand as he turns his head to look away from her. Before she gets a chance to respond the waiter comes over to their table and takes his book from his apron. He clears his throat before asking about drinks. “I’ll have a whiskey sour.” Both of them turn their heads to Y/N as she lifts her head from looking at the menu. 

“Morgan and sprite please.” He nods his head and goes over to the bar to put their orders in. She turns her head back to Kita. “Whiskey huh?” 

“My drink of choice, this is gonna sound so funny.” He covers his face with his hands as a laugh escapes his lips. “My grandma was a big whiskey drinker so now I guess it rubbed off on me.” He peeks through his fingers at her and she can see the smile sneaking out from where his hands don’t quite meet in the middle. 

“That is funny, but sweet in a way?” Their waiter sets their drinks down and questions them about food. They order skewers, there’s a breath of silence as he walks away. Kita plucks the chery from his drink and she doesn’t think much of it, her gaze traveling down to his lips before jolting back up to his eyes. Not what she should be thinking about, this is just a friendly drink. A drink after work with friends, don’t think about how soft his lips look or how– “So, how was delivering today?” She can only hope he didn’t notice where she was looking, or at least not mention where she was looking out of politeness. 

He chews on the steam lightly as he comes up with an answer, “same old, same old. Nothing too exciting but it is nice to catch up with a few people.” She’s about to respond when she notices the stem disappears into his mouth and she’s thinking about it again. His lips look so soft, what would it be like to kiss them? She blinks herself out of her trance when she notices Kita looking at her. He sticks his tongue out a little bit and she sees the tied cherry stem sitting in the center. She blinks a few more times and turns her head to look out the window of their booth.

“What?” He asks calmly and plucks the stem from his mouth to set it gently on a napkin and take a sip of his drink. “Your drink will get warm if you don’t drink it anytime soon,” he teases as he sets his back down. She tentatively picks up her glass and takes a sip before also setting hers back on the napkin. There’s movement from one of his hands as his fingers run along the edges of the glass. She notices his own eyes shifting down, is he looking at her lips? She can’t do this, it’s too much. No, she’s worked hard for this. She takes a deep breath and tries not to think too hard about how he’s looking at her, like he wants to kiss her. She doesn’t have to think about it for too long as their food gets delivered. The plate is placed in the middle of the table and the two of them share the skewers. His tongue flicks out to lick over the expanse of his lips and she passes it off as being for the food. Their waiter sets the check down on the table and walks away with a nod. 

Quiet conversation passes between them as they eat their food and nurse their drinks. Slow drinks and even slower bites taken to draw their time out together even more. “So..wait,” she manages to squeeze between laughs. “He tried to play even though he was sick, and he hit his head with the ball trying to serve because he sneezed?” She covers her mouth with her hand as she laughs at the story Kita was telling her. 

“Yes, he was very irresponsible, still is if his brother has anything to say about it.” He splits the last skewer with her, it’s not as warm as it was a few moments ago. “I had to force him to go home, oh my. Atsumu was so upset about it. Whined the whole way to the locker room to change.” She can feel her stomach drop at the mention of his name. She really should be more over it than she is. Eight months over and she still recoils at the slightest mention of his name. He has managed to infiltrate even the place she thought of herself as the safest from his influence. Kita…knew him, knows him. What would he say if he knew that Atsumu was her ex, would she lose her newfound home? “Are you okay?” His voice is quiet as he reaches his hand across the table, a silent invitation. She can see his face fall when she shakes her head and refuses his hand. He leaves it there even after her refusal, just in case. 

“I..” She starts but hesitates. The words get stuck in her throat, they cling to the walls and hold on stubbornly. Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to force them to come out. She looks back down at his hand and she closes her eyes as she sets her hand in his. She feels a light squeeze on her hand and she wants to open her eyes to look at him. To memorize his face in case this all goes tumbling down, but she can’t bring herself to muster the strength of opening her eyes. With another squeeze of her hand she manages to open her eyes and lift her head to face Kita. “I don’t know how to explain it without pushing you away.”

“Pushing me away? What do you mean?” He sounds concerned but doesn’t look away from her, eyes scanning her face trying to uncover the secrets. For once, she doesn’t think she wants him to carefully peel back her walls and see what’s happening beyond the surface. She wants to stay blissfully ignorant of what he believes, of what he’ll think of her. 

“This sounds much more dramatic than I wanted it to be,” she sighs and brings hand up to her forehead as she shakes her head. “Are you still friends with…him?”

“Who?”

“Atsumu.” It’s the first time she’s said his name in months but it still burns like acid against her lips. Her mouth curls around the familiar name with disgust as her nose crinkles slightly. She hopes she never has to say Kita’s name in the same regard she says Atsumu’s, never has to have it laced with sadness and doubt. Unsure of herself and the world around her.  “Yes, is that what this is about? Do you know him?” She can feel her throat tighten a little and she looks down at their hands, he’s not accusing her. His thumb is rubbing gentle circles on the back of her hand, this shouldn’t be as big a deal as she’s making it. So what if he’s friends with her ex? Her ex she broke up with 8 months ago, she should be over it. It shouldn’t– “Hey, Y/N? I don’t care one way or another if you know him or not, I care more about if you’re okay.” His voice is soft but genuine as he speaks, she feels another gentle squeeze of her hand as he continues to hold it. Hold her. Kita does what he has done for the past four months, keep her steady and not let her run away.

taglist (gen, fill out this form <3) : @cheriisae @hiraethwa @hatsukeii @szyvrue

impossible taglist (open, send an ask <30 : @kameyyy @lale-txt @nectardaddy @solzscribblez

[greenelight]

˗ˏˋ      ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ·      ﹙      tags      ﹚      ﹕      part   three.

[potteraep]

I don’t know if this has been asked before but!! Kinich x reader (any gender) trying to have a peaceful romantic moment and Ajaw just goes in between them every time (to annoy Kinich maybe,,)

THROW IT AWAY ⁀➷ KINICH

⁀➷-this is SOO.. I love ajaw he’s lowk real. more then one scenario cuz I lowk felt generous…

⁀➷- kinich x gn!reader

⁀➷- ajaw being a bother, lowk suggestive in some parts, a DROP of angst like only a bit of dialogue

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷- having moments of silence together was rare.

for many reasons of course. The pilgrimage being in place, kinichs duties and yours. They all had their own part in the seemingly impossible possibility of you and kinich having such little time together. It made sense right? They all added up but they were small inconveniences.

compared to the stupid dragon.

He was terrible. Sticking his nose where it shouldn’t be, you and kinich looking at Each other for a bit to long? He’s quick to stand in between and shake his tail in kinichs face with a obnoxious laugh

it was worse even when he shouldn’t of been there when ajaw was supposed to be locked away for you and kinich to have privacy he would float in mid-

look the point is that he was a nuisance.

at least to kinich, he’d roll his eyes while you held ajaw in your arms with fake tears defending “ the poor creature” saying his servant should respect him as ajaw dramatically fake sobbed in your arms while you tried to stifle a laugh at kinichs angry frown

still even you had to admit sometimes the little dragon should learn to walk away or float? He’d ruined moments even making you sigh and rub your head at his antics.

—Natlan being the nation of dragons seemed scary to most out side of its borders finding the title odd and making most wary. In reality most of those “ dragons” were creatures who had an infatuation with the people of the nation.

this wasn’t all the nation had of course, a strong archon and a sovereign of legend, alas it was quite safe for experienced travelers to just.. linger around as you had done before when you weren’t busy it was nice. The suarians were nice company but you’d wager that kinich was better.

You strolled side by side kinich looking towards the mountains as you sighed having the wind brush past you. Kinich was silent looking around a bit before looking at you his pupils looking over your features and resting on your lips as I turned to him

“ what are you looking at?” You asked with a confused look “ I’m looking at you..” he replied quietly his gaze from your jaw to lips and your eyes his lips curling up slightly as he watched your cheeks tint pink and look so fond of him he continued looking at you his eyes searching yours, looking for something anything to tell him to back up. To walk away and do something else or a rejection. He found nothing but love in your eyes making him breathe thru his nose quitely

he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against yours as he sighed out a bit not saying anything as he held your waist, the soft fabric of his bandana brushing against your forehead as you smiled leaning your lips in a bit agape as he waited patiently

Of course that kiss never came, instead a loud laugh did making kinich sigh as he opened his eyes and leaned back still holding your waist

“Really.? “ Kinich said grumbling slightly as he averted his gaze to the little dragon

“ your a sap kinich! Ha I never thought I’d live to see the day wait till I-“ ajaw got his sentence cut off as kinich flicked him away with his hand before turning back to you

“ sorry.. where were we?” He breathed out as you rolled your eyes and smiled making him grimace a bit at the dragons stupid antics

—Kinich had finished his work which consisted of many things and you had finished your duties centered around the tribes issues and requests

this was rare both of you being done at the same time, sure kinichs work was rough and it definitely took time but you? You worked more then 75% of the day if he wasn’t worried about your lack of sleep he’d be a idiot, even if he tried to hide his worry with little gestures it didn’t work.

-Kinich dragged himself thru the door of your shared home sighing and rubbing his head, his Bandana shifting at the slight touch. He didn’t really expect you to be home, and when you were you confined yourself to work saying it would be done soon( it never was). When he checked on you again, your eyes were drooping and your shaky hand signed papers as he sighed closing the door behind him

“ when will you rest?the canopy will be fine without you..for a night” he said dully trying to hide the worry in his eyes tho, thru the reflect of the window in front of your desk gave away his eyes softening and trailing over your tired features

“ when my works over” you replied mindlessly reading over papers and writing reports and quick signatures as he let out a sigh stepping closer to you right behind your chair as he gripped your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze of recognition

“ those piles are endless my love, don’t keep this us.. please” he said furrowing his brows a bit as you sighed reaching one hand to graze his finger tips

“ kinich.. I can’t not now..” you said trying to fake a smile which he gritted his teeth at before sighing

”hm.. well then, don’t let me be a bother..” he said with a turned gaze to the reflection as he leaned down and gently kissed your neck moving a piece of your hair with two fingers as you tilted your head into your hand, he brought his hand on your shoulder to securely hold your waist. He never once broke eye contact thru the reflection one hand on your waist and the other trialing your hips

He brought his mouth to the back of your neck sweetly kissing you making a soft heart with his fingers in your hips smirking a bit as he saw you smile thru the glass

he opened his mouth to speak, maybe to say how much he loved or desired you but his voice wasn’t what boomed thru the air

“ kinichh! Where have you gone! Don’t you dare lie or i swear-“ he stopped his words as kinich glared at him thru the reflection as he busted thru the door. Ajaw sighed dramatically seeing you seated and kinich leaning behind you

“ what now! Why are you sooo mad your incelent bafoon!” He screatched as he turned bright red flaking his arms around while you rubbed your forehead to tired to hear all this, kinich looked at you with a sigh as he kissed your head before turning and walking to ajaw glaring at him as ajaw rolled his eyes before yelping as kinich gripped his tail dragging the creature with him

“ what are you-!”

“ shut the hell up “

You smiled to yourself as you heard the door shut and ajaw protest as kinich sighed knowing this would lead to more bickering from the orange dragon.

@- likes and reblogs appreciated hope you enjoyed ! :>

[ssweetleaf]

projecting my own kinks here but the thought of messy tongue kissing with steve and/or eddie (taking turns!?!? bye) while they make you cum, absolutely sends me FERAL 👹

SMUT 18+ below

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Your chest was heaving, mouth parted and ready for more messy kisses, your head craning to each boy’s mouths, taking turns in kissing them, your heart impossibly full and thumping in your chest.

It was Steve’s turn now, and with big hands, he cradled your face, thumbs mindlessly rubbing at your flushed cheeks before kissing you with an open mouth, his tongue slipping messily inside, running along your teeth and sucking your tongue between his swollen lips.

Eddie made himself busy, lighting up another joint he had rolled, inhaling the smoke with heavy lids while he watched the two of you— his cock was hard, bulging from under his jeans, bordering uncomfortable and he pushed the heel of his palm into his crotch to ease the pressure.

“Come on, Harrington, stop hogging her.” Eddie scowled, wrapping his fingers loosely around your neck as leverage to tug you towards him— a sharp smacking sound came from your lips when they broke away from the kiss.

“Such a greedy girl,” he hummed, licking a stripe up your cheek and pecking the corner of your mouth, “kissin’ two boys at the same time? Little slutty, don’t ya think, sweetheart?”

You whined, clutching at his jean jacket, moaning into his mouth when he pressed his lips against yours, gliding easily with the amount of spit that covered your pretty lips.

“She’s not slutty,” Steve scoffed, pulling you back towards him, pressing chaste little kisses along your cheeks and a small one to the tip of your nose. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, honey? Jus’ wanna make us feel good, don’t ya?”

You nodded, your poor clit throbbing at his cooing, fluttering your lashes up at him as if butter wouldn’t melt, nuzzling your nose into his cheek at his continued kisses.

[a-zif]

i spent 4 hours painting doll shoes and i can feel the mental illness in my brain being cured

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Mornings with Jungwon;

Pairing; fem!reader x boyfriend!yang jungwong Synopsis; On a quiet winter morning, you and Jungwon share tender moments of love and playful teasing, savoring the warmth of each other’s embrace before the day unravels. Theme; Fluff on top of fluff Warnings; A tiny bit suggestive (?) Your teeth will literally fall off and rot because it's so cute (?) My Masterlist;

A/N; This drabble is so cute and adorable it's my favourite!!!! I hope you like it as much as I do! Reblogs and likes are always welcome, thank you! Also, my inbox is always open, let's chat!!

You woke up to the sound of thick raindrops softly hitting your large bedroom window. The murky winter light barely illuminated the room, leaving it wrapped in a hazy glow. You yawned and snuggled deeper under the blankets, savoring their comforting warmth. After rubbing your sleepy eyes, you slowly opened them.

As your vision adjusted, you noticed your precious boyfriend sleeping beside you. Jungwon lay shirtless under the heavy covers, his rosy lips forming a cute pout, his blonde eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his nose adorably scrunched. His blonde messy hair framed his face, making him look like a charming, sleepy mess.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jungwon’s deep morning voice broke the silence, his eyes still closed. His arm shifted under the covers, seeking your waist to pull you closer.

“How did you know I was staring?” you asked shyly, a smile tugging at your lips as his warm fingers touched your skin, sending a trail of goosebumps along your body.

“I can feel your eyes on me, princesss,” Jungwon murmured sweetly, his lips curling into a faint grin. He opened his eyes, their caramel warmth glowing faintly in the dim light as he gazed at you.

It was dangerous how much you loved him. Jungwon didn’t need to do much to make your heart flutter—just his charming smile or the scent of his skin was enough to leave you captivated. His thoughtful nature and the way he always cared for you made him irresistible.

Without another word, Jungwon wrapped himself impossibly closer to you, craving the warmth of your body against his. Your bare legs tangled with his clothed ones, and he couldn’t help but notice how cold you were.

“How can you be this cold under so many covers?” he asked, his gaze fixed on yours as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“I don’t know,” you replied with a laugh. “I’m always freezing, and you’re always warm. What’s your secret?”

“My secret?” He pretended to think for a moment before smirking. “Ohhh—it’s having a hot girlfriend like you.”

You playfully punched his arm, your cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. Deciding to stretch out, you lay back fully on the mattress. Jungwon took the opportunity to rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“You feel so good… smell so good…” he mumbled, almost like a moan. His voice was soft and vulnerable, as if he were completely lost in you.

Your hands instinctively moved to his messy blonde hair, gently caressing it as he breathed steadily against you. For a moment, the room fell silent—a comforting, safe pause. Then, you felt his fingers slide under your shirt, brushing against the warm skin of your stomach.

“What are you doing, Wonie?” you asked with a smirk, opening your eyes. But all you could see was his hair as his fingertips trailed higher.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the first girl I’ve ever slept with?” Jungwon confessed softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “I mean, like… actually sleeping, spending the night.” He clarified quickly when you stayed silent.

“Let me confess something too—you’re my first, as well,” you replied with a smile. Jungwon lifted his head to look at you, his expression lighting up with pure joy.

Unable to contain your affection, you leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. He closed his eyes, savoring the tender touch, and you peppered more kisses across his face, focusing on his cheeks. Jungwon smiled shyly, clearly basking in your love.

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes still closed as he relished the moment.

Soon, your attention shifted to his neck, kissing and nibbling where you know he is sensitive. You watch how he blushes under your touch, his neck and ears turning a soft shade of red. A bit of teasing never killed anyone, right?

“I love you too, Wonie,” you whispered back against his collarbone.

With your sweet confession and your breath agaisnt his skin, Jungwon moans and gently grabs your face, so he could face you. With an adorable blush on his cheeks, Jungwon makes some pressure in your shoulders for you to lay down in your back again so he could rest on top of you.

“We should get up,” he said between kisses. “And eat breakfast.” Another peck. “We also need to return Layla to Jake hyung.”

“I don’t want to leave the bed…” you whined, pulling the covers over both of you.

Jungwon chuckled and brushed your cheek with his thumb, locking eyes with you in quiet intimacy. His gaze was so intense and sweet that it made your heart race. For a full minute, you stayed like that, tangled in each other, feeling his fingers trailing along your thighs.

He didn’t want to leave bed either, but he worried he might lose control if you stayed like this any longer. He would forget everything and take you right there and then, showing how much he loves you. So, with a mischievous grin, he proposed, “The last one to leave the bed has to cook breakfast and clean the kitchen alone.”

Before you could protest, he jumped out of bed. But as he turned, you grabbed his pants, causing him to tumble back onto the mattress.

You burst into laughter and bolted toward the kitchen, wearing nothing but his oversized shirt and a black thong. Jungwon stayed lying on the bed, watching you with adoration. He didn’t mind cooking or cleaning—not when you brought this much love to his life.

Taglist; @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever If you want to be added or taken off the taglist, just let me know!