#I had a lot of fun with the lighting. as you can tell

[draeisgrayte]

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful tayū and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shred, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? He needed to find you or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs, and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cunt into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” You mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

[beautifulpaprika]

The Island Castle; Jungkook

pairing: queen!f!reader x life-keeper?!jk

summary: The castle on the small island behind yours has been sitting there since before you were born, but you've never known what was in it. Everyone tells you there are monsters, but you have yet to see any. When you set out to uncover that mystery you find someone who explains everything and makes you feel everything.

warnings!: shower sex, unprotected, a storm!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: Someone else edited this picture! I got it from here (Pinterest)! On with the story!

“Your majesty?” Alana’s voice calls behind me. I turn to her, tea in hand.

“Alana, I thought I told you mornings are for staring and relaxing time,” I chuckle, looking back across the small body of water to the multi-storied castle sitting on a small island, only slightly different than our Castle Maine. 

“YourMajesty,” she sighs, “you need to erase that castle from your mind, focus on the people who are focused on you,” she advises while taking a seat next to me. 

“I am a face for the people, it’s not as if I actually do anything in government, we both know that. I bet the people don’t even know about it.” The castle, Castle Island as I like to call it, was hidden behind our own castle, Castle Maine as I like to call it, with such tall walls of rock and waterfalls here and there. The cove was beautiful but it held too much mystery. My advisers, my parents (may they rest in peace), the servants- they all ask me “Why are you so curious about that place and what’s in it?” and the answer is simple: because I was told not to be curious about it. 

It had been there before I was born, and all I’ve been wanting is to see what’s inside. 

“Sometimes it’s better for Queens to keep their secrets,” Alana pulls me out of my thoughts.

“I know I’ve asked you many times Alana,” I look into her starting-to-wrinkle face, “but are you sure you know nothing of what’s in there?” I gesture to the silent castle with my teacup.

“No, your majesty. When I started to work here I was told many stories of ghouls and ghosts. Even a man-eating man,” she shivers. “It’s best not to wonder, otherwise, you’ll get a headache.”

“Sounds like you know from experience,” I tell her, going back to looking at the castle. There’s a terrace on the front, but not a soul comes out onto it. No royalty, no servant, nothing. 

“We need to get you ready soon,” Alana pushes her chair back in standing, “Suitors are waiting,” she squeals. I roll my eyes. 

I need to know what’s in the castle across the waters before I’ marry another royal who thinks they can stop me from going. 

***

When I was six, I discovered a boat along the coast of Castle Maine, however, when I dragged my nannies to the same spot, they said they could not see any boat. 

It was disappointing and made me believe I was losing my sanity for a few months, but I kept seeing this boat. Even now. There is no evidence to suggest that it was not meant for me to explore with. 

So, tonight I’m finally taking the small row boat across the waters. There was always a voice that said I should wait, but the voice is quiet now, my own invitation to the quiet, golden palace. The only thing lighting the way is the moon when I hop into the boat, paddling my way across. 

“This is a lot tougher than I thought,” I murmur, my muscles aching from the strength going into moving. I look back at Castle Maine, the lights littering different parts, then I look forward to Castle Island. 

Complete darkness. The air feels cold, the sound of something splashing off to my right. Maybe it’s best if I turn around. Back to light. Back to humans and not ghouls, ghosts, or man-eating men. 

Then I think about the men waiting for me on Castle Maine. The suitors who want to take over the kingdom. Lord Alloy has been especially annoying today. There’s no fun in going back to it. 

I realize I am already halfway out into the waters and that turning back would make me a failure. 

“My best advice? Something you should never do as queen? Never. Go. To that island,” my mother’s face haunts me. It’s pathetic of me to go against her dying wishes, but I keep rowing. Castle Island is much bigger from the shore than from the high balcony in my bedroom. Now I can see that it most likely has not been cleaned in decades, the walls are painted in water mold. 

I reach the shore, grabbing the lantern from the boat, not shining it yet so as not to alert anyone. There are steps leading up to the door, inviting me in. 

Adrenaline pumps through me, and it’s enough to keep me going. The door’s creak is louder than any thought passing through my brain. I’m greeted with darkness and the sounds of floorboards creaking. My lantern moves from left to right, shining onto trinkets and wall decorations. Paintings litter the walls framed in gold. The place does not look so abandoned from the inside. 

A skittering noise whips my head to stare down the end of the seemingly endless hall. 

Just a rat. 

“Calm down,” I whisper to my heart, “It’s only a small rodent. It won’t hurt us,” I laugh to myself. 

“Unless you hurt it,” a voice whispers behind me. 

I scream, whipping around in a panic. My panic doesn’t rest when I see there’s no one there. The words were right in my ear, how is it possible that there is no one there? 

Footsteps to my left. I flash the spot. There is no one there. 

Footsteps to my right. I flash that spot. Nothing. 

“Come inside,” the voice whispers from above and fades ahead. 

My breathing picks up, but I don’t want to leave without answers. 

“Come on,” the voice is deep but playful. There’s a slight shadow moving with me, then ahead of me. I flash light on it, watching a vine with flowers spiral ahead, showing me the path. “I’m waiting for you, your majesty,” the voice whispers. I run after the vine as it grows faster. I wind through halls and large rooms, not paying attention to any of it. 

The vine stops in an open, what looks to be, ballroom. 

“Welcome!” the same voice yells out. It’s dark for a moment longer, then candles and torches light the entire room. 

I gasp at the flowers growing up the sides and consuming the ceiling, the moonlight shining through the large windows. There is gold holding flames, speckled on the ground, and on the curtains on the stage where a man sits on the edge. 

“Hi,” he grins, like a predator to his prey. I can’t bring myself to say anything to him. He’s ethereal. He’s what they would describe angels to look like. His white, long hair matches the white I can spot in his eyes despite standing 30 feet away. He’s got a boyish grin on his face, piercings in his ears, and clothes that are also white. If it weren’t for the unnatural colored eyes and hair, he would look like any person I would see in the streets. 

“Who are you?” I ask. I realize it’s rude to greet him that way and immediately apologize, “I’ve been staring into this castle for years and I’ve never seen you.” 

He shrugs it off and hops down from the stage. 

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” he suggests. It’s a suggestion that irritates me considering I’ve been looking plenty hard enough. “Funny, that you’re asking the questions when you’ve broken into my home,” he moves to one of the flower walls, caressing the petals of a pink one. 

“Yes, I apologize,” my eyes fall to the floor in embarrassment. It was foolish of me to think no one lived here. “This castle has been dormant ever since I was born. There have been no boats coming or going from this place, and you’re hidden in a cove behind my own castle,” I try explaining. However, he rolls his eyes at all of it. It’s clear the explanation was not worth it. 

“You don’t truly think that story is going to work on me, do you?” he asks.

Confusion sets in and my eyebrows pinch together. “It’s not a story, it’s the truth.” He laughs at my words, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so insulted. 

“You’re the queen, and allegedly no one has told you a single story about me?” he laughs again. “That’s very believable, your majesty, but I’m not an idiot,” he plucks the flower off of the vine and crushes it between his fingers. “What’s the real reason you’re here?'' His steps are heavy as he approaches me. I don’t dare to move from the spot. His face hovers over mine and I can't help the gulp. 

“I’m telling the truth,” I say again, looking into his eyes. “I’ve never seen or heard of you.”

The ballroom is silent for a few moments, his eyes narrow. 

“Are you-” I hesitate, “Are you the man-eating man?” I whisper. He blinks then scoffs, before a laugh escapes him.

“So nothing then?” his body is still so close to mine and it’s becoming difficult to breathe. “Let me explain it then,” he moves to the stage. The plants on the wall crawl over to the stage and I gasp when one wraps around my middle, pulling me to him. 

“What the-” his arms wrap around my middle, pulling me closer to him. My mouth closes, afraid to breathe into his mouth. 

“Pay close attention, Your Majesty,” my heart pace picks up as I follow his eyes to the plants on the stage. “And listen closely.” 

They form a shape that looks like a king on a throne and the other figure that represents the man standing next to me. 

“More than a century ago, I was invited to Castle Maine-”

I flinch. How does he know I call it “Castle Maine”? And a century ago? How is that possible?

“I was invited there on the premise of needing help with the crops and the nature of the kingdom,” the plants change to the king kneeling before him rather than the other way around. “They were desperate,” he turns to me, “I should’ve left them to die,” the smile wipes from his face now. 

The image changes to him raising his hands over the ground, crops rising up.

“But I was put on this earth to sustain life, and that’s what I did,” as he talks, more and more questions appear in my head. “The king was, as expected, very grateful,” the scene changes back to the throne room, the king bowing his head slightly. Then a vine wraps around the white-haired man’s middle, pulling him back and out of frame. 

“He wanted more,” his fingers squeeze into my side, “But the oh-so wonderful-king justified his actions to his kingdom,” the Castle Island appears in forms of many flowers and vines, “‘The ‘Life-Keeper’ has been gifted a large castle where he wants to reside until we need his assistance again,’ are the words he used in his speech. That witch he was married to put a spell on this castle, trapping me in it forever. The royals would be the only ones who could 

Take me off of the island when they needed something,” his eyes lock onto the scene of him on his knees, wrapped in rope and vines.

“You couldn’t escape when you got off the island?” I ask. 

“They realized that too,” he laughs. “Ever since I’ve been trapped here, I’ve never been taken out for fear of killing everything they had instead, or spreading the truth that the royal family are selfish and greedy!” he looks straight into my eyes when he says it. 

The vines release me, and I don’t feel any lighter from the information just fed to me. 

Memories of my parents who have told me time and time again not to go or even wonder about the castle. Meanwhile, we’ve been holding the gatekeeper of life hostage. 

“There’s a reason there’s so much life around your castle,” he tells me, I think of the cove and beyond and how full of life it is compared to other kingdoms. “I can’t hold all of it inside me. So if I go, all of it does too,” he reveals. A gasp leaves my mouth at the thought of losing all of it. How would I explain to the people that the reason they aren't starving has just left. 

“Why would you tell me this? I thought you wanted to escape.”

“I’ll never do what your family did to me,” he looks away now to the flowers crumbled on the stage floor. 

“I have to think,” I rush out. Castle Island has become a suffocating space and I can’t form my questions properly. “I need to return. Everyone will wonder where I am,” I make my way to the exit and he doesn’t stop me. Surprise enters my body but he did say that he would not do to me what my family has done to him, i.e. taking someone hostage. 

“Do you know the way out?” he calls. I pause in my tracks because, no, I can’t recall a single room that I saw on the way here. 

He sighs behind me, a vine leading out of the door.

I look back to him before I leave and say, “I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.” His eyes narrow, skeptical. “Who will I be visiting when I return?” 

“Jungkook,” he tells me his name. 

“Thank you, Jungkook,” and bow to him, a flash of surprise painting his face. 

I follow the vine back home. 

***

Lord Alloy has invited me to a picnic on the shore in the back of the castle. The same shore that faces Castle Island. I had initially wanted to skip it, but the idea of possibly seeing Jungkook somewhere lurking excites me. 

The sand gets all over my dress as we sit down together. He pulls out a basket, slowly revealing all the food he packed. 

My eyes wander to the quiet castle across the water. 

“I’m sure you know why I’ve invited you to be here,” he says, pouring two glasses of wine, setting one next to me. I try not to roll my eyes at the tone as if he has control over me. 

“I can guess,” I say, a smile plastering my face. 

“Now,” he takes a sip, “I am aware there are many suitors at your beck and call ready to take the throne beside you,” I want to scoff again at his choice of words ‘take the throne’. No one will be taking it from me, I’ll be granting them access.

But . . . semantics.

“I know you’re considering many options,” I’m not, “and I wanted to meet with you, hoping you might consider me as one of your top options,” he takes another sip. “There are quite a few benefits if you and I were to unite. . .” he rambles on, but my ears are already tuning out when I spot a moving figure in the second story window of Castle Island. 

A curtain moves in the window beside it and a white head pops out, watching. If I hadn’t known now what to look for, I would’ve never seen Jungkook snooping. 

I don’t know what comes over me when my posture instantly corrects, my eyes relaxing to fluttering lashes, and the tense feeling in my shoulders washing away to relaxation. I’d have never thought of the possibility of him watching me, but now his gaze is all I can feel despite him being so far. 

“Financially, I don’t believe there’s anything to worry about- eh. Your majesty?” Lord Alloy’s voice calls me back to attention.

“Forgive me, Lord Alloy, but I think there will have to be more than financial stability to convince me of marriage,” my eyes stay on Castle Island. Jungkook shows his full figure now through the window. 

Is it odd that I feel safer knowing he’s watching me while I’m in this meeting. I certainly trust him more than I trust Alloy. 

***

Despite my muscles aching from rowing the night before, I keep my promise to go visit Jungkook. 

I’ve gone over a script more times than I can count throughout the day, preparing myself for any answers. I wanted to find the truth yesterday and I received about half. Now my curiosity is hungry for more. 

Alana has been noticing something strange the past 24 hours asking, “You haven’t drank your tea. Do you have a headache? A stomachache?” when I told her “no” she gave me a strange look. 

I know she’s suspicious of me now but that isn’t stopping me either. 

I feel giddy when there’s a vine that sprouts from the ground when I arrive. I bring my lantern and the bag of food I brought with me out of the boat and inside the beige palace. 

It takes me left, right, left to a room that simply takes my breath away. A large swimming pool sits in the middle, while flower walls climb up the sides to a glass ceiling where I can spot almost every star. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I jump at the whisper in my ear. I turn to face Jungkook whose head is tilted. “You’re obviously going to bombard me with questions today. It would be kind of me for us to at least have a chat in a comfortable place rather than sitting on the ballroom floor.” 

I’m already put off by the fact he knows I’ve come to mainly interrogate him. 

“What’s this?” he points to the bag. 

“Oh!” I set the bag on a table near me framed in gold, “I’ve come to the conclusion that because you have been trapped here in this castle with no one coming in or out,” I start to pull out pastries, fruit, and cheese from the bag, “you must have not tasted food in ages.” 

He scoffs. 

“Your majesty, I have no need for food. I’m a gatekeeper of life. I can also grow food,” he explains. Humiliation rises in me for not thinking of that, my cheeks burn, most likely causing a deep red. He sees this and his smile slowly drops. “But I appreciate the gesture,” he grabs a piece of cheese, biting into it with fervor. 

I raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Cheese isn’t grown,” he defends. I snort a bit, then quickly cover my mouth. 

He drops it onto the table, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to offend you-”

“Enough,” he puts his hand in my face and I yank it down.

“I’m a Queen, sir! And a lady nonetheless! Your hand in my face will do you no favors,” I tell him. “There are many things I can tolerate, but I’ve been trying to show kindness, so I beg of you- no hands in my face,” he only blinks at my words then laughs. 

“I like you, Queen! You’ve got a bit of spunk I haven’t seen in the royal family in quite a bit. Granted, not many have ever visited me, but you’re refreshing.” He doesn’t know how much his words affect me. To be compared to the other members but as a compliment has not been something I’ve experienced much. 

“I saw you,” he munches on more cheese, “today with that man on the shore,” his tongue pokes his cheek before taking another piece. “Who was he?” he doesn’t make eye contact as he grills me. It pushes me to wonder why he wants to know. 

“That was one of my so-called ‘suitors’, the name is ironic seeing as he doesn’t suit me very much,” I tell him. His eyes glide to me from underneath his eyelashes, scanning my body, then focusing back on the foods I’ve brought. 

“Are you going to marry him?” 

“No. He’s never caught my interest. Especially, because he thinks he can take charge so easily if he were to marry me. While it would have been nice to humble him, marriage is a bit too permanent,” I explain. The plate of cheese is gone before I know it. 

Jungkook seems . . . relieved? His shoulders are a lot less tense than before, and that smirk from yesterday paints his face yet again. 

He turns to the pool and starts to slip his shirt off. 

I panic and turn away from him.

“A warning would have been nice!” I yell out, still turning away. A deep chuckle escapes him. 

“We’re going swimming, what did you expect?” 

“I’ve never seen a man shirtless,” I admit. It’s not embarrassing to admit. Everyone around me knows I’ve been sheltered by my parents inside Castle Maine my whole life. 

“It won’t kill you. I won’t judge you either,” he says, before I hear a big splash! Sprinkles of water fall onto my arm, making me gasp. I turn back around to see Jungkook swimming away under the water. He swims to one side, comes up for air, then swims back, and comes back up, his arms resting on the side of the pool. 

“You want me to ask questions while you’re like this?” 

“You could join me,” he suggests, a smirk painting his face. 

“In my dress?” I scoff. 

“Don’t be silly. Without the dress,” he says it very nonchalantly, but my heart drops into my stomach, the feeling of something new being foreign to me. “You don’t have to act like a queen here. It’s not like I can tell anyone but the plants around me,” he floats backwards. As sad as his words are, they are true. 

I debate with myself for a few moments, and eventually feel that it would be nice to swim after the hot summer days we’ve been having. It’s also a way to show this Life-keeper that I’m willing to do what he wants in exchange for more information. 

The dress starts to come off. I try to ignore his burning gaze on me. I feel the heat rising through my body, but push it down. It’s only swimming. My undergarments are exposed now when the dress pools at my feet. I throw my shoes off, then look at the waters. The adrenaline pumps through me at the thought of Jungkook watching me and I jump in. 

The water consumes me. My arms fling around.

I don’t know how to swim. 

How could I forget I don’t know how to swim? 

My arms search for solace, but there is none. The air is leaving me.

Finally, a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me up. Air finally reaches my lungs, but there’s still so much water. I cough up water, Jungkook placing a hand on my cheek at the same time. 

“Shh,” he soothes me, and I feel clean air filling my body. My arms wrap around his neck.

Life. 

“You know you’re supposed to know how to swim before getting in a pool, right?” 

“I wasn’t aware,” I tell him with a hint of sarcasm. “I was blinded by the adrenaline. I’d never been swimming before,” I still cling to him like the life line he served for me earlier. 

“They really haven’t let you do anything, have they?”

“My job was to be a Queen. Not to compete in the summer olympics,” he laughs at that. I start to relax, my hands still on him, but he floats around easily. “Now you know something about me. I’d like to ask about you now,” he nods, fully expecting this. “You said ‘more than a century ago’ last night. You don’t look older than 25 years.”

“Not even 20 years? I’m insulted,” I give him a look, “I’m the keeper of life, Your Majesty, that includes myself,” it makes sense now that he says it. I suppose gods don’t die, so why would he? 

“How old are you truly?”

“It’s rude to ask a lady her age,” he teases. I roll my eyes. 

“Fine, next question,” he pulls me closer when he changes directions, and I try not to focus on our hips aligning so well. He could enter me- 

“You’re taking a minute to think of that next one,” he says. My mouth opens up, but closes again. It’s hard to focus. I’ve been on several dates with past suitors waiting for their chance to be King, but nothing can compare to what’s happening in my stomach and the thoughts wanting to take over my brain. 

“Um, well, you called the castle I live in “Castle Maine”, but as far as I know, I’m the only one who calls it that,” I explain. 

“You wrote a letter and sent it here. Do you remember?” 

I recall when my mother died and I was about to become queen. When my mother made that dying wish, I tried to give up on Castle Island. I sent a letter apologizing that I had to give up on it. 

“‘You’re a dream that I’m not allowed to wish on anymore. Signed, Castle Maine.’ That’s what you wrote,” he says, his voice is low as if the memory is one that hurts him. I watch his eyes avoid mine and my heart sinks. 

“Obviously, I lied. I couldn’t get this place out of my head. Did you know they say there are ghouls and ghosts here? A man-eating man?” he laughs at that. 

“A natural tactic to keep others out of course,” his eyes come back to land on mine, “and yet here you are.” 

“Here I am,” I echo. His eyes fall down to my lips, simultaneously licking his own. My heart picks up speed but not before I bring myself back to why I’m truly here. 

“If I were to help you get out, what would happen?” his eyes rise again. 

“The life around the kingdom, of course, won’t be flourishing as much as it is now. The cove will not be growing as many flowers. Your castle may fall apart-”

“Wait, what?” 

“Castle Maine is rooted down by plants that I’ve grown. It won’t fall all the way apart, but the damages would be unsafe to live in,” he explains. My mind is reeling from even more information. “This castle is one big hold of my power, and it spreads out. Think of it as a tree and its roots are spreading out,” his power and how important he is to the kingdom is prevalent now. 

“I see.” Jungkook must notice my uneasiness as he swims to the steps of the pool, setting me down so my feet touch the steps. I climb out, the water falling from my body back into the water. He follows behind me. I reach for my dress, still sitting on the ground. 

Jungkook grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“It’s midnight, and that dress looks expensive to be washed with pool water,” a vine creeps into the room holding clothing on a plate - a simple shirt that looks like it will reach down to my knees. I take it with careful moves, imagining the vine trapping me if I make one wrong move. “It’s very late. There’s a storm that might be coming. We have plenty of rooms here in the castle and you can return home in the morning.”

I’m about to reject the offer, but he’s already making an escape. Alana will have to worry about me for a few minutes in the morning. 

***

I doubted Jungkook when he said there would be a big storm, but the thunder and lightning are evidence of no lie. 

I can’t sleep. Every loud boom! yanks me out of sleep. 

I get up, holding my lantern in hand. My mission now is to try and find the kitchen for a glass of water. There is no vine to lead the way this time, but it’s a chance to explore the place. I find a room full of paintings. I explore the canvases, some of them painted over many times. 

I continue on, finding other bedrooms, until finally, there’s the kitchen. His is much bigger than mine, but it’s more empty. There are hardly any plates or cups in the cabinet, but if I think about it, there was never a need for him. He was all by himself. 

“Can’t sleep?” Jungkook appears behind me. 

“The storm really isn’t letting up,” I explain. “I just needed something to do,” I peek into his fridge, filled with lots of fruits and vegetables. He wasn’t joking when he said it’s what he could grow. 

“I’m not a big fan of them either. There was a fire here,” my attention is off of the midnight snack now. “Lightning struck and I had to take care of it myself. It wasn’t big by any means, but it makes me paranoid to this day,” he explains. 

“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what else to say to that. There’s a guilt that the king who put him in this eternal loneliness had his blood running through me. I can’t help but feel responsible despite not being alive at the time. 

“Nothing you could have done,” he says, but it doesn’t help the sinking feeling. Lightning strikes, and thunder shakes the room, I flinch back and frustration consumes me. Typically, a storm is over after a few minutes, but this is enough to wash a house away.

Then realization hits. The boat!

“I need a path to the exit!” I call out. He calls my name, but I’m already running, following a vine slithering up and down the wall. When I reach the outside, the boat is just barely hanging onto the shore. 

It’s my only way back to the castle.

I’m drenched when I reach the shore, the rain making my clothes heavier on me. I step into the water and try lifting the boat, but the water keeps pulling it back. 

“Hold on!” Jungkook calls, he joins me on the other side, “On the count of three! Three, two, one!” We both heave the boat onto the shore, the bottom scraping the sand until at least 90% is hitting land. 

When it feels secure, we run back up the stairs and inside, our breaths heaving. 

“Thank you,” I say, relieved that I thought about it on time. I turn to him, preparing to give gratitude with eye contact but his eyes aren’t focusing on mine, they’re a bit lower to the white shirt that is soaking in water and sticking to my skin.

I would feel completely embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that now my eyes were traveling to the shirt sticking to his skin. A perfect outline of his chest and abdomen peeking out. Saliva almost spills from my mouth, but not before I pick my jaw back up and meet his eyes again. He looks just as embarrassed as I feel. 

“I recommend we change clothing,” I tell him. He visibly gulps, causing a wave of nerves to run through me. 

“I have a few spares in the bedroom,” he says, a bright smile on his face. I can’t help but to wonder why he didn’t send one of his plants to his room to get it. 

Thunder sounds from outside, and I hasten my steps after him. My eyes stay on his back muscles as they move through the halls. If you were to ask me what rooms we were walking through, I wouldn’t know how to respond. My fingers tingle to run them through his pale hair. 

Walking into his bedroom is not what I was expecting. Considering he is the only person who lives here, I expected his room to be the biggest and most decorated space. It’s the size of my biggest bathroom in Castle Maine. 

“Don’t look too disappointed,” he interrupts my thoughts, chuckling at his dresser where he takes a few pieces of clothing out. “The shower’s right-” he stops, the clothes are immediately placed on his bed and I take a step back when he approaches me quickly. I startle when he grabs my arm. “Where did this come from?” 

I look to my arm where a large gash runs down my arm. I hadn’t even felt it, but now there’s blood dripping down to my fingers.

“It must have been from dragging that boat up,” I explain. 

He doesn’t say another word, instead dragging me to his bathroom.

“Sit on the counter,” he demands pointing to the wood before crouching to look in his cabinets. His tone is a shot to my core. 

“Jungkook, I don’t think-”

“Now,” he interrupts. I blink once. Twice- then move to lift myself onto the counter. It doesn't take long for him to conjure up some bandages and set them beside me. “I’d prefer my queen not be harmed while she’s here,” he whispers, a smirk on his face. I’m shocked that he isn’t calling me ‘Your Majesty’ anymore. ‘My queen’? I like that a lot more. 

“So, has your perception changed of the royal family then?” 

“Not at all. I still think most have been the most selfish beings to ever walk the planet earth,” he says, dumping water on my wound. I scowl at him. “Chin up. I said ‘most’,” he taps the bottom of my chin. 

I try resisting the smile surfacing. 

“However, I could be being manipulated by your beauty. It’s easy to fall into you,” he doesn’t even glance up to watch my reaction. In a way, I’m glad he doesn’t, it’s a full face of pure shock. “The shirt doesn’t help,” he expresses. 

“Jungkook! Who knew you could be so bold?”

“Have I not always been bold?” his hands are gentle as they slide up and down my arm. 

“Jungkook?” I try grabbing his attention again, but he’s still examining my wound. 

“The rain water can’t be good for it, we need to get you in the shower,” his voice is low. He said ‘we’? I imagine the water running down his front, his body glistening as he takes care of me. My brain flashes images before I can stop it and there’s a different wetness between my thighs that isn’t a result of rain water. 

“Are you going to help me?” I ask. His head doesn’t move, but his eyes do, looking up at me. I suck in air, waiting with bated breath. “Usually there are people in Castle Maine who help me,” I lie. Every rational thought has officially flown out of my mind, the only thought in my head is him in the shower with me. 

He scoffs instead. 

“And do you want me to think of you as a queen when I help you?” he asks, now his hands are planted on each side of me, palms face-down on the counter as he leans his body in. I shiver when his breath hits my face. There’s an itch on my neck where I want him to place his lips.

I shake my head ‘no’. “I want you to think of me as a woman,” my fingers have a mind of their own when they slowly caress the skin where his shoulder and neck meet, sliding up to the wet tendrils of his hair. His eyes slightly close at the contact, leaning into the touch. 

“It’s been a long time since anyone has touched me. I hope you understand that what you’re starting would be very cruel to stop,” he whispers. I can’t bear to think of how long it has been for him without contact with another person, but it’s comforting to know that he might be out of experience just like me. 

“I didn’t plan on stopping,” my fingers hide under his hair, massaging his scalp, he leans into it with a moan. When he recovers, his hands slide over my thighs, moving them apart and standing between my legs. A rush of nerves and excitement courses through me as he stands there, his hands roaming, touching, groping. I’ve felt hands on my legs and body before, but not in this manner, not this boldly. The touches before were shy and cautious because I am queen. But Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to waste any more time. It’s as addicting as they say. 

“Let’s get ready for your shower, then,” I feel a tug on the shirt still stuck to my skin. His eyes trail down. I feel the heat of his eyes moving up, left, right, down. 

I raise my arms up. 

“Go ahead,” I say, letting him do it. The cold air is even colder when the shirt is lifted off of me, the water not helping me stay warm by any means. I hear him mumble something when it comes all the way off. My chest is bare and in the open now, my nipples hard when exposed. 

He throws the shirt off to the side with a plop somewhere. 

“Y/N, if you don’t know this already, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve laid my eyes on. And I’ve lived a long time,” he leans closer, lips hovering over my neck. I try not to pull him in and come off as needy already. It’s something I want to take more time with. 

A peck is what he gives me. Just one on my collarbone, then two, then three. 

“Jungkook,” I whine, impatient. 

He comes up, meeting my eyes, and drags my legs forward, forcing our hips to meet. I can feel the result of our touches between his legs and curving up to his stomach. 

He’s about to say something, but I can’t take anymore of this talking when he’s right in front of me. I take the opportunity, planting my mouth on his, my breasts pressed up against his chest when both of my arms stretch over his shoulders. 

He doesn’t respond at first, but it quickly changes, his hands roaming to my butt and pulling me even closer, his hips grinding into me. Finally, some friction. He groans into my mouth. 

“I need you, right now,” his hands come off of me, removing his shirt and pants and throwing it the same direction as mine. I try not to faint at his body fully uncovered. Not because I’m horrified, but because he looks just as expected when it comes to how they describe immortals to be built. Perfect. 

“You can have me,” I whisper into his mouth, his face already looking as if we’d just finished when we haven’t even begun. When I kiss him again, the heat from his chest spreads onto mine, our skin rubbing against each other. 

The same heat is gone when he turns to go turn the shower on. I sit on the counter needy and half-naked. I watch him moving and bending, his muscles contorting when he reaches me again. 

He lifts me easily, setting me on the floor. Without warning, he pulls my underwear down, but he doesn’t come back up. Instead, his fingers are gentle on my calves, sliding upwards. 

“Jungkook,” I breathe. His nose and lips graze my thighs. It’s hard to concentrate on anything when his face is so close to being in-between my legs. 

“Before you leave,” he says, the words vibrating against my thigh, “Grant me at least this one wish,” he pulls me closer. At this point I’ll give him anything he wants. The castle, the throne, me. He lifts my leg over his shoulder. “Let me taste you.” 

I don’t get much of a chance to respond before his mouth is already on me and my hands are grabbing onto the edge of the counter for dear life. The shower runs in the background, but I can’t help the moan that releases, overpowering the water. 

His tongue moves and sucks. Where? It doesn’t matter when I feel a finger slip in. I’d like to think that I would be warned about what’s going to happen next, but the surprise sends more adrenaline in my veins. 

He groans, the vibrations traveling through me. He lifts himself from the ground, dropping my knee. The bottom of his face glistens from his personal feast, he doesn’t say anything, but I feel the warmth from his hand move into my hair, pulling me towards him. 

“I want you to taste yourself,” his voice is a whisper. His lips press into mine and I indulge him. The kiss is messy, and it gets even messier when he begins to move us. 

I break from him, moving to get on my knees, but he pulls my arms back up, shaking his head.

“What is it?”

“You don’t have to do that. Trust me, if you do, I won’t last very long.” 

He turns me around, my butt on his hard-on. The moment is still and silent. 

“Jungkook?” I call for him while his nose runs up and down my throat. “Are you okay?” I run my hand through his hair. 

“More than okay. I’m trying not to rush this.” Our bodies are sticky with sweat and rain water. I’m able to break away and keep his hand in mine when I get in the shower. The water feels amazing against my skin, but Jungkook feels better. “Don’t leave in the morning,” he pleads, holding my face in both of his hands. 

“The thought never crossed my mind,” I tell him against his lips. 

I thought it would feel strange to have a man’s naked body against mine, but it’s much more comfortable because it’s with him. 

Our mouths mend together for a few more moments before his hands move down. I’m nervous about what he wants, a possible slipping happening. However, when I take the leap and jump to wrap my legs around him, he shows no struggle- the perks of practically being a god. 

“I don’t think I can wait much longer, Jungkook,” I whine, my back on the cold wall. 

“As you wish, my queen,” I hold onto his shoulders when he separates us. I decide not to watch, looking up when his penis enters me. It’s painful for a moment. The cry in my throat on lockdown for fear of embarrassing myself. 

He looks at me, his eyelids hooding those white eyes. I nod, a signal that I’m ready. His movements are slow first. 

I notice the vines creeping up the walls and the flowers blossoming. They cover the shower, turning it into a dome of flowers with only the two of us in it. 

Our moans and groans mix and echo and bounce off of the walls of plants. 

“I don’t know how much longer-” he whines into my neck, grabbing onto my left breast, then sliding down to rub circles on my clit. I feel a buildup in my stomach.

“I won’t last- ah!” I moan. His ministrations and thrusts are getting faster. I can’t stop the wave that crashes into me and I grab onto his hair, scratching my nails down his scalp as he groans onto my collar bone while filling me up. 

He sets me down, but we’re in the same position while the shower runs down our skin- the sweat and fluids washing away. 

My eyes open and I gasp at the colors on his arms. 

“Jungkook!” There are drawing patterns encircling his arm, all the way up to his shoulder where I have to blink twice to make sure I’m looking correctly. His hair is black now, and his eyes are dark. The color in his skin no longer looks flushed and pale. 

And the drawings! 

“How- What-” I stutter. 

“I’ve got some of my life back.” 

***

The rain goes on, but the lightning has slowly dialed down since our escapade in the shower. 

I can’t stop looking at this new Jungkook. He was always more handsome than anyone I’d ever met, but the new look makes him more handsome than even my wildest dreams can conjure. 

I look up at him, tracing my fingers on the black ink running up his arm at the same time he’s rubbing my neck. He looks blissful, on a high. 

“I’d like to take you out of this castle,” I propose. His head whips to look at me and his back rubbing stops. 

“Say that again?”

I sit up, making sure he can read my lips when I say “I want to take you out of this castle. A royal has to do it, right?” He nods slowly, still skeptical. “I don’t want the kingdom to fall apart, Jungkook, but if I had stayed in this castle by myself for as long as you have?” I shake my head, not wanting to think about it. “I came here looking for an answer, and I found much more than that. And what you do with your freedom is not my business, you don't ever have to see me again,” he raises a hand in the air sitting up.

“That's not going to happen,” he tells me, placing the same hand on my face, a thumb on my cheek. 

““I’m saying to keep it in your back pocket. If I were to take you out of here, I wouldn’t want you to feel trapped in another space.”

“We don’t have to,” he proposes. I raise an eyebrow. “If you travel with me, we’ll come back often and I’ll grow the crops for your kingdom, I’ll do anything. Just go with me so I won’t have to be alone again,” the fire shines on his face, helping me scan for any insincerity. 

I think on the offer, not wanting to abandon my duties as a queen, but they certainly won’t miss me either. 

“You don’t have to say yes, but I would be elated if you did. I'll teach you how to swim, I'll show you things you never thought you could see. You won't be trapped anymore,” he continues. I stare at his newly dark hair and eyes, thinking. I suppose I am more similar to him than I thought.

“And we’ll come back every few days? How?”

“I’m the gate-keeper of life,” he laughs. I laugh with him, falling back onto the mattress. 

“I’ll go with you,” I tell him. 

“Anywhere?” he asks, laying back down beside me. 

“Maybe not back here,” I laugh. He agrees and kisses me on the forehead. 

“You think we could trap that Alloy in here?” he whispers, and I laugh before falling into a sleep surrounded by warmth. 

[cain-speaks]

LMK Season 5 Animation Analysis

basically just me rambling about how i feel about the animation. i'm not going to talk about plot but i tagged spoilers just in case :3

First, to put it bluntly:

No, I do not like the look of season 5. The movement of the characters is regularly stiff and slow, the character proportions are odd, lines are oddly angled instead of smooth (like the monkey tails), you can tell they're still adjusting to how LMK does character lighting, and it's not as flashy and fun in my opinion. I think some of the sound design was a little weird this season, too (in EP3, Wukong busting a giant hole in the wall makes like no noise? Just seems weird to me). The space cracks are oddly... solid, if that makes sense? In season 4 they appeared much more delicate, while in this season they're, in a way, heavy? Also, this is certainly a personal irk, but the blended style for the tears? Not a fan. I could be misremembering, but Flying Bark made them crisp.

Having said that, it's not nearly as bad as I (and others, I imagine) thought it would have looked, judging from the trailer. Part of this is probably because they reused a lot of animation from previous seasons; which, by the way, isn't bad, it saves time and I'm sure it's a lifesaver while they're learning. It's just... obvious. Very obvious, especially because you can tell they did it more this season than Flying Bark did.

I've watched some clips from Carmen Sandiego because I think it's one of Wild Brain's most recent shows, and I think you can see the similarities. I didn't watch a lot, but it seems to me that characters are less expressive with their body language and more stagnant. They also don't seem to be super facially expressive to me, but like I said, I didn't watch a lot. Now, Carmen is a beautifully animated show! But it's different. And different's not bad, it's just... hard. Unsatisfying and disappointing, currently. Flying Bark's style, in my opinion, had the characters constantly moving. Whether it was a tail twitching, a position shift, a little expression in the background, they were moving. And they moved fluently and quickly. It really made the characters feel alive. I THINK it's also a different between puppet animation and frame-by-frame animation but don't quote me on that.

ANYWAY all of that is to say that yes, there are visible differences and they're upsetting. I hold LMK very near and dear to my heart as I'm sure many of us do, so as thrilled as I am to have season 5, it does hurt a bit.

HOWEVER.

Wild Brain isn't responsible for that. Flying Bark had a learning curve just in season 1 vs season 2. We have to give the new studio TIME to grow and adapt to the style. It's really unfortunate because now we have what feels like a very crudely animated season that I just know would have been better with the style we all know and love, but hopefully there will be more seasons, they'll get better, and we'll realize that this is just a blip in our hopefully long lives.

And to the neurodivergents: you are valid, we are valid. God knows I loathe change. I was really hoping the studio change was just a misunderstanding, but unfortunately it's not. LMK's visual aspect is important. If you decide to leave the show behind, that's okay! If you don't, welcome to the ship I'm trying to keep afloat!

Back to everybody now. Your decision is yours; don't let others make you feel bad about leaving or sticking with the show and most DEFINITELY do not lash out at the studio, because istg if the show gets cancelled from backlash I'll jump off a bridge (/dramatic).

Anyway idk if this is really an analysis. But it's something! Less than 4 days for the english dub, whoop whoop!

[mayflora-18]

Incorrect CoD Quotes #10

Sherlock: Sarge, I am way too sleep-deprived to deal with your negativity right now.

Gaz: -_-

---

Soap: We gotta get to the hospital and we gotta get there fast.

Ghost: Then, I should drive.

Soap: Why you?

Ghost: I've got nothing to live for and I drive like it.

Soap: Okay, let's do it.

[Later]

Ghost and Soap in the car: AAAAAAHHHH!!!

---

Sherlock: What if…

*Sherlock frowns in concentration*

Roach: Ooh, Sherlock's wheels are turning. Your brain baby is crowning.

Gaz:: Roach, please, that's disgusting.

Sherlock: No, it's helping, I am having a brain baby.

Gaz: Then push, babe, push.

Roach: *lets out deep breaths* Breathe.

Gaz: You can do this, you are so strong.

Sherlock: I got it!

---

Price: Quick, you're losing a lot of blood! What's your type?

Nikolai: Smart, brunette, British, you-

Price: Your blood type, Nik.

Nikolai: Oh! Red.

---

Nikolai: Sherlock is taking the day off so I'm gonna light something on fire.

Laswell: ...Why?

Nikolai: She's like 80% of my impulse control.

---

Price: Naw, bitch. I'm not being petty.

Gaz: You just said, "naw, bitch."

---

Roach: Okay, here are the ground rules: you can punch me, kick me, pull my hair. I am a-okay being stabbed. Biting and scratching are ON the table. You CAN use fire.

Soap: 😰 These are the ground rules? Is there anything off limits?

Sherlock and Gaz: 🤨🤨

Roach: Damn, man. You got something really sick you wanna do, huh?

Soap: What- Uh-

Roach: Oh, you little pervert. Alright, I like it. Don’t tell me. Surprise me. Ooh, this is gonna be fun!

Ghost: 🤦‍♂️

———

Sherlock: Did you just eat all of the powdered donuts?

Nikolai: …No.

Sherlock: Дядя, I can see the powder on your pants.

Nikolai, brushing off his pants: That’s cocaine.

(Дядя = Uncle in Russian)

———

*Sherlock’s phone rings*

Sherlock: Sherlock’s authentic stolen military police badges. How can I help?

Gaz: Hey, it’s Garrick.

Sherlock: Oh, hey Kyle.

Gaz: Hey, do you carry a hairdryer in your purse?

Sherlock: Of course, I’m not an animal.

Gaz, on the other end: Told you! You owe me 20!

Farah: …

———

*Graves escapes from the 141*

Price: This isn’t over! I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth!

Graves: I love you, too! 😘

———

Ghost: All right, you’re clearly not listening to me. I can say whatever I want.

Price, paying attention to something else: Tell me about it.

Ghost: I murdered Johnny this weekend.

Price: I feel you.

Ghost: Now that I have the taste for blood, I can’t stop murdering.

Price: Been there.

———

Gaz: Well, remember when you told me not to burn down the base?

Price: You burned down the base?

Gaz: No! I had the fire put out immediately. This is a success story.

Price: …

———

Alejandro: I need some 141 drama, stat!

Ghost: I don’t think we’re that dramatic.

Alejandro: We’ve been gone for one week. Gaz and Sherlock are dating, and they’ve killed a person.

———

Sherlock: This is where we came the night that I won our bet and you fell in love with me.

Gaz: Sherlock.

Sherlock: The night that you flirted with me for 20 seconds and I became obsessed with you forever.

———

*preparing to infiltrate on a mission with Ghost zip lining through a window*

Soap, over the comms: Is the equipment secure?

Ghost: Check.

Soap: Weapon loaded?

Ghost: Check.

Soap: Did you have breakfast?

Ghost: What? That’s not on the checklist!

Soap: I added it because I care about you.

Ghost: No, I did not have breakfast.

Soap: Unacceptable! Look in your pocket.

*Ghost fumbles through his pockets until he finds a granola bar and unwraps it*

Ghost: Hey, there’s little chocolate chips in this.

Soap: Yeah, I’m not an idiot, I know how to trick my best friend into eating his fiber.

———

I’m posting again! 🥳 Still working on the other fact drop, but I will post it ASAP. On a different note…

🎵Tomorrow, tomorrow! I’m 21, tomorrow! It’s only a day away!!! 🎵

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

Needless I went off the rails with this one! LMAO

This became an excuse to draw Celarthur/Merthur content in different scenarios & and outfits. And I had too much fun with the designs of each one.

Sun King & Moon Queen AU:

Basically, I was watching Lego Monkey Kid and this happened! I really wanted to do something that really got the essence of the show. If you watch the show you can really tell I kinda (or a lot) based it around the Lady Bone Demon & Sun Wukong. And of course some classic Chinese folklore...

It is a total rom-com scenario, with the Moon Queen betrothed to the Sun King... they but heads at first then slowly but surely fall in love.

Sleeping Beauty/ Fairy Tale AU:

This one was really made for young Sir Arthur & Celestine... I couldn't help it guys it was such a classic movie. Malfience icon (she's definitely be Morgan in this Au).

Especially when I was looking for dancing references I kept looking at the sleeping beauty reference dance sequence the most. (for a project to be revealed later still a secret) So I had to give a shoutout to that of course, love how it turned out!

Super Paper Mario Au:

I think this one is my favorite one I always got emotional for Count Bleck & Tippi's backstory. Their love story is quite similar to theirs....they just fit the characters so well.

In all honesty, if Sir Arthur didn't have Meta to ground him... then he definitely would have become like "Count Bleck." Oh but just like Tippi Celestine would still love and forgive Arthur anyways.

~

And here is an Au relevant to the plot of KBASW... I did wanna draw out more scenarios relevant to the plot of KBASW but then they kept leaking out to spoiler-ish territory.

Next Scenario Happy Ending Route. (Basically, Celestine & Arthur are running the GSA and this is a daily occurrence~)

They still have to wait for...(Kirby is lost for a while and is found by Meta and of course baby imprints on him and he's still Meta's) They become this obnoxiously flirty-loving couple... MK's seen this since he was a kid so he's desensitized. They do get work done I promise ~ (LMAO)

@kirbyoctournament

Keep reading for spoiler content/ Special thanks

This is where Celestine manages to find a cure for her " broken warp star" situation. They basically gave him the same isolation treatment (because he was supposed to be the galaxy's savior~). But Celty (secretly visits him as often as she can to make she he isn't lonely.

After this time Celestine finds Meta in the Fountain of Dreams (before anyone could find him). The Ancients were so preoccupied with Gala that they weren't even montioring the fountain.

Basically, no one knew that Meta Knight was born but Celestine & Arthur. He's raised in secret at the temple. (They make a cute little family together ~) And Celestine would set up secret little play dates for the both of them.

A few years passed and then BOOM!

They manage to catch Icarus in his crimes for "forcibly creating another astral from Void." (Kirby was always going to be made but he came out too early due to Icarus' involvement.)

Morpho still takes his life but they manage to trace it back to Uther... The people are now questioning the Acients in their decisions and soon fall out of power due to the controversy. To save face they crystalize Sir Uther... (HA) but that doesn't help them at all~

It was during this time that Celestine properly revealed herself as Merlyn... WHAT!? Another blunder blew up in their faces...and the people immediately began to rally behind her. The popularity of her good deeds as Merlyn is what gets her into the seat of power.

Leaving Celestine in charge of the GSA (finally left in the right hands!) And of course, she takes Arthur with her as her right-hand man and well I think the GSA would become more of a light-hearted place after that.

(Morgan leaves, she doesn't fit into this hippie-dippy-happy place but she's not evil per se... she kinda just travels around as she pleases and she does find her happiness being a wanderer.)

Nightmare is still a problem but Nightmare Enterprise is never created, so it's not as widespread. So it's managed and the galaxy is thriving under Celestine's control. And of course, Arthur & Celestine confess their feeling for each other yada yada yada....

And of course, Kirby defeats Nightmare and that's it~

Despite this happy ending Meta Knight never meets Jecra & Garlude as a result of this. Along with Kirby never going to Dreamland or meeting everyone; Fumu, the cappies, no nothing. And the need for Star Allies no longer exists.

~

More content on these two to come and guys let me know which Au scenario you like more (reblog, leave a comment... maybe I'll expand on it more fun content to come)

I also wanted to thank everyone for getting me through round two I hope you all continue the support for next week's voting poll ROUND THREE!

Thank you for riding this wave with me!

Hope you all have a wonderful day!

@lulu-chaos-incarnation I just also wanted to thank you for being such a loyal fan. I really appreciate you I know I went a little crazy on the AUs but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! :D

[leftneb]

lando in this style :3 for funsies mostly -> oscar in pt. 2

WIP

[that-g3-artist]

happy mermay! have some fish boys

(Buy me a coffee? Requests are open!)

[oddly-casual]

This entire scene makes me hurt but I wanna talk about this part in particular because it drives me insane.

Like- Splinter knows they aren’t just running errands. He can see his sons sneaking out thinking their slick and he found all their human stuff bc he’s nosey and if his sons won’t talk to him he’ll just have to investigate himself right?

So Splinter knows his sons are hiding something from him because duh- and he knows they want to be apart of the human world but he’s scared they’ll get hurt so he tries to bring the human world to them.

And you can just see the cringe and discomfort in the boys eyes because their father keeps trying to make them stay but it’ll never be in the way they want it, but they clearly feel bad.

And the real kicker is when Splinter tries that thing he did in the beginning of the movie, where he presses his sons about the truth but he specifically looks at Leo, like the screen cuts to Leo and even Raph looks at Leo because Splinter knows his eldest son would never lie to him.

But then he does

Leo lies right to his fathers face no hesitation and Splinter gets that look that just screams ‘i lost them’ because even if his son’s disobey the rules and don’t talk to him anymore, Leo was like Splinter’s insider into what his kids are doing and how to keep them safe. Splinter lost their trust.

But now even Leo is shutting Splinter out, so Splinter has been completely walled off by his sons and to Splinter he has no idea why because he’s just doing this to protect his kids.

Looking at it from Leo’s perspective, he has a strong sense of Justice. In the beginning when their father grills them about where they’ve been, Leo caves immediately even though he knows it’ll make everyone mad at him.

He braces himself for it too. There’s no reward in telling the truth but Leo does it anyway.

But Leo is a teenager, and teenagers tend to act in their own self interest. So when Leo keeps snitching and it only leads to punishment on all sides

Isolation from his brothers, distance from his father, of course Leo is going to cut his losses and stick to the thing that brings him joy. Possible acceptance and April. It’s also the most we see him bond with his brothers since Leo isn’t trying to follow their fathers rules.

[starpros-sunshine]

Sometimes I wonder why cold symptoms always get worse in the evenings there has to be a logical explanation for that

[thecreatorofworlds]

"Why do you look like me...?"

Yesterday's QSMP trailer got me so hyped that I dropped everything to do a little something for it. These drawings are actually from a COMPLETELY different project I'm working on, but that trailer made me crazy and I wanted to contribute something too, even if it's short.

I'm legitimately SO proud of Quackity, and I'm so grateful for the incredibly kind international community he's created. I admire how much love and passion he has for his projects, and I'm super excited for what's to come! 💕

[mrnnki-img]

teenage mutant ninja... rats?

(separate images under cut)

[bat-connoisseur]

Artfight attack from today! Ash for Spr1ngs on Artfight!

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[finelinefae]

flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]

synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 

word count: 8.6k

content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 

read part 2 here

my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !

. . .

Y/N had been having a terrible week.

She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.

People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.

But this week was not fun.

The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.

Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.

It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.

Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.

So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.

Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.

"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.

She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.

The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.

The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.

Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.

The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.

She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.

"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.

She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.

"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.

He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."

The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."

His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."

She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."

"M allergic to flowers." He said.

"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.

"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.

He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.

Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.

He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."

Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."

"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.

"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.

"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.

"Yes." She nods.

"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."

She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.

"That's different."

"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.

"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.

"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."

Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."

He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.

He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."

She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.

"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.

Her entire face heats at the nickname.

***

The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.

She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.

When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.

Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.

After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.

She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.

Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.

It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.

She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.

"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.

At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.

Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.

She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.

At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.

She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.

The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.

Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.

"Excuse me please," she mumbled.

"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.

She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.

The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.

"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.

"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.

"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."

"Mine is." She said.

"What?"

"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.

His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."

"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.

"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.

Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.

Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.

"Is that your new girl Styles?"

"Nice one, H."

"Have fun Styles."

"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.

"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.

"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.

She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.

"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.

Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.

"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."

Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"

"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."

She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.

"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.

"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.

"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.

It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.

He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.

"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.

He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.

"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.

"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."

"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.

***

Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.

She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.

She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.

When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.

She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.

Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.

Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.

An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.

In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.

Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.

"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"

"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.

The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."

Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."

"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"

"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.

Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.

She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.

He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.

"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.

"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."

The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"

"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"

"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.

"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."

"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"

"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.

"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.

"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"

"He swore at me,"

"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."

"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.

"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."

"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."

"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.

"Wait, what? No."

"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."

"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.

"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."

Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.

All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."

"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.

The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.

"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.

"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.

Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.

"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.

He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."

"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."

"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.

"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.

"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.

"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."

"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.

"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.

"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.

"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.

She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.

"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.

"A-Are you sure?" 

"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 

It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 

"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 

"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 

"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"Mhm," He hummed. 

"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 

"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 

"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 

He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 

Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.

"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.

"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 

"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 

"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.

Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 

"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 

"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 

"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.

She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 

"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."

"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 

"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."

"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.

"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.

"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"

"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."

"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.

"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.

Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 

Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 

With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.

"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 

"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.

"Why?" She can't help but ask.

He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 

She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 

Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."

. . .

Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 

An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 

"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 

As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.

The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 

Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 

"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.

"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"

She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.

He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 

When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.

His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 

"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.

"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 

Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 

He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.

"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 

She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 

"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"

She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 

He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"

She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 

His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."

"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 

Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 

That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 

She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 

Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 

She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 

Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 

The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.

Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.

Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 

Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 

Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 

"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 

"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"

Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"

He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."

"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.

He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 

After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"

Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.

Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 

Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"

She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 

Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"

"A little," She huffed. 

"You're too cute." 

Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 

"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 

Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"

"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 

"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 

"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."

She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"

"Been intimate with someone." 

She smiled. 

She really, really liked him.

. . .

For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 

Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.

When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 

In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 

Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 

"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 

She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 

Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.

"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 

"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 

Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 

With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 

It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 

Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 

His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.

Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"

Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 

"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 

"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 

Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.

Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."

Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 

She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 

"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 

"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 

Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.

"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 

"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.

"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 

"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 

"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.

Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 

Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."

Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.

"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 

"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 

"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 

"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 

"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 

"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 

Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 

"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 

"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 

At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.

She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.

"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 

Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.

"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 

Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."

"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 

"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.

"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.

"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"

"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 

"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 

"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 

"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.

psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room

[saetoru]

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

[cherryredcheol]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, he whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!”