#I say as if I didn’t write what���s in it
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bytemee · 2 days ago
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HOUSE OF BALLOONS — YU JIMIN.
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“you're in my world now, you can stay, you can stay. but you belong to me, ooh, you belong to me."
synopsis. karina wasn’t used to sharing. seeing you laugh with someone else? that didn’t sit right with her.
pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader
warning(s). 18+ (smut), g!p reader, pet names (she calls u puppy like it’s ur name), unprotected sex, p in v, jealous!karina, dom!karina, sub!reader and bad writing ahaa...
words. 1.6k
authors note. i could go for a chipotle burrito but damn do they be taxing
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karina was used to having all eyes on her. she was the kind of girl who walked into a room and made everyone else feel like background noise. and you—shy, awkward, always fumbling over your words—were her favorite plaything.
it wasn’t like you were dating. she just liked keeping you close, liked the way you turned red when she got too close, and liked knowing that you’d drop everything the second she called.
but tonight, you weren’t where you were supposed to be.
she had invited you to the party—expected you to hover near her like always, expected you to wait for her to give you attention. but instead, you were downstairs, sitting on the couch, laughing at something some random girl said.
karina didn’t like that.
she watched from across the room, arms crossed, lips pursed, as she saw the way you were smiling—actually smiling—in front of someone else.
when the girl leaned in a little too close, touching your arm, something snapped.
before you even realized what was happening, karina was in front of you, slipping between you and the girl with a sickly sweet smile.
"oh, i see you’ve met my little puppy," she said smoothly, tilting her head. "careful with this one. she gets nervous around new people.”
you were about to open your mouth to say something then she sat down on your lap, draping her arms over your shoulders. you swallowed hard, your face going pink, completely caught off guard.
karina had always been shameless with her teasing, but this—this was different. she was staking a claim, making sure everyone in the room knew exactly who you belonged to.
the girl you had been talking to gave an awkward laugh, clearly unsure of what to do now that karina had inserted herself into the situation.
"uh, i was just—"
"leaving?" karina finished for her, still smiling, though it was obvious she wanted her gone.
the girl hesitated, looking between the two of you before mumbling some excuse and disappearing into the crowd.
you barely had a second to process what just happened before karina’s fingers were suddenly in your hair, twirling a loose strand between her fingers as she leaned in even closer.
your eyes widened, your face burning up under the intense stare she was giving you. you swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the couch, unsure of where else to put them.
and then, just when you thought she couldn't get any closer, she did, her lips brushing against your ear. "don't look so surprised, puppy."
she pulled away just enough to look into your eyes again. then she got up from your lap, smoothing out her skirt before grabbing your hand and pulling you upstairs, away from all the prying eyes.
and you let her.
karina didn’t waste a second. she shoved you into the first empty room she found, kicking the door shut behind her before pinning you against the wall.
it didn’t matter whether you were hers in name—because in every way that counted, you were. and tonight, she was making sure everyone knew it.
her lips crashed against yours, rough and claiming, like she had something to prove. and maybe she did. maybe she needed to remind you exactly where you belonged.
karina was a damn good kisser, and the longer she kissed you, the harder it got to stand on your own. your fingers curled into her shirt, clinging to her for support, a quiet gasp slipping past your lips.
she loved this. loved how easily she could pull you apart, how simple it was to make you forget everything but her.
when she finally pulled away, a thin strand of saliva still connected you for a brief second before it snapped, leaving you breathless. your head spun, your lips swollen, and you just stood there, waiting—because she was the one in control, and you both knew it.
her nails raked across your skin, making their way under your shirt, and you bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan.
"you don't want anyone else, do you, hm?" she asked, her voice low and soft. she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your jaw, the gentle touch a sharp contrast to the way her nails dug into your hips.
you shook your head quickly, your heart racing in your chest, because no, no, you only wanted her. you only ever wanted her.
karina hummed, satisfied, her grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. "good," she murmured, "because i don't like sharing."
her teeth grazed your skin, and your breath hitched, fingers twitching where they hovered uncertainly at your sides. you wanted to touch her, wanted to pull her closer, but you knew better than to move without permission.
she noticed, of course she did, and it made her smirk against your throat. "what is it, puppy?" she taunted. "you want to touch me?"
you nodded, swallowing hard. "please," you whispered, barely able to get the word out.
karina pulled back just enough to look at you, tilting her head like she was considering it. her fingers trailed up your sides before she finally grabbed your wrists and guided your hands under her skirt until your fingers brushed against her underwear.
"there," she breathed out. "is that what you wanted?"
she was so wet, and the thought that she was this turned on because of you—because she was claiming you as her own—made you whine, the sound almost desperate.
"karina," you pleaded, the bulge in your pants growing more uncomfortable by the second.
karina's smirk widened. "you want me to touch you?" she asked, her breath hot against your ear.
you nodded frantically, still unable to form words, too overwhelmed by desire to do anything except obey.
"use your words." karina's grip tightened on your wrists.
"please," you whimpered, voice shaking. "please, touch me, i need you."
she hummed, satisfied. "that's what i like to hear."
and then her fingers were working at the buttons of your jeans, her other hand reaching under your shirt, sliding up your stomach before pressing against it to push you onto the bed, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless.
"karina," you moaned. "i—fuck..."
she didn't waste any time. as soon as you were flat on the bed, she crawled on top of you, straddling your waist, grinding against your thigh as her fingers wrapped around your cock.
karina chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. "you're so sensitive," she purred, her hand moving slowly, teasingly.
you whimpered, your hips moving involuntarily. you were starting to unravel, quickly losing control. karina knew it, and she loved it.
"is this what you wanted, puppy?" she asked, her lips brushing against your neck. "you like it when i touch you like this?"
all you could manage was a ragged moan in response.
her hand moved faster, sending a shock through your system, and you threw your head back, eyes squeezing shut. it felt so fucking good, and you couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only let her do whatever she wanted.
then suddenly she stopped.
your eyes snapped open, and you let out a whine, desperate for more.
karina ignored you, instead pulling her underwear down, kicking it to the side before she straddled your waist again, lining herself up with your cock.
her hands pressed against your chest for balance as she started to move, rolling her hips at an excruciatingly slow pace.
you groaned, your fingers digging into the sheets, trying to keep yourself from just taking over and flipping your positions. you knew that would just earn you a sharp slap and a scolding, something that you would much rather avoid.
karina leaned down, hovering her underwear above your mouth, a wicked glint in her eyes.
"open up," she commanded.
you obeyed, and she stuffed the fabric into your mouth. it tasted like her, and the thought of that alone made you twitch inside her.
your hands moved to grip her thighs, fingers pressing into the soft skin, holding her steady as she rocked her hips.
she let out a breathy moan as you tightened your grip on her. "fuck," she panted, her breaths coming in short gasps. "just like that."
you tried to say something, but all that came out was muffled by the underwear she had shoved into your mouth. karina smirked, her pace increasing, the heat in her core growing stronger, spreading through her body. she threw her head back, a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead.
"fuck," she groaned. "i'm gonna cum."
she could feel it building, her walls clenching around you, and she knew she was close. she knew the sight of her falling apart would send you over the edge, too, and that's what she wanted, needed, craved.
her grip tightened, nails digging into your chest, her breathing erratic, her hips rocking faster, harder. she was right there, teetering on the edge, and then finally, she toppled over.
"fuck!" she cried out, her orgasm ripping through her, her legs trembling.
the moment she started to come undone, so did you, unable to hold back any longer; you groaned into the underwear, your head thrown back, your spine arching off the mattress, thrusting your hips upwards as you came.
your hands held her in place, gripping her thighs so hard they would leave marks, but neither of you cared.
karina slumped against you, her chest heaving, her face buried in the crook of your neck. she was panting, trying to catch her breath, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart against your skin.
after a few moments, she pulled away, sitting back on your lap, a satisfied smile on her face. she reached forward and slowly pulled the underwear out of your mouth, her gaze fixed on you, taking in the aftermath of what she had done to you.
"mmm, looks like my puppy is satisfied."
you blinked, trying to clear the haze from your mind, but all you could focus on was the sight of her sitting on top of you, the mess dripping down her thighs, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen.
she looked so perfect.
"do you understand now?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. "no one else gets to touch you like this. no one but me."
you nodded, still unable to find your words.
"good," she purred, leaning in and kissing you, soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how she had been before.
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desperate-gay · 2 days ago
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jealous alex morgan? im obsessed with how you write her
Childish Jealousy
Alex Morgan x fem!reader
minor SMUT 18+ in the beginning
summary: your wife’s jealousy comes in the most unexpected ways
a/n: first universe incoming with @occasionallyaurora !
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“Fuck, Alex.” You breathe, hips instinctively lifting to chase the warmth of your fiancée’s sweet tongue. Her hands tighten around your hips, pinning you down, her nails pressing half-moon marks into your skin.
The slick sounds of her mouth lapping you over fill the air, mingling with the soft chirping of early morning birds outside the window. A bead of sweat rolls down Alex’s forehead, the heat from the blankets making the space between you sweltering.
“Please don’t stop, baby, just like that. I’m so close.” You writhe, fingers tangled in the sheets as your teeth sink into your lower lip to muffle the moans threatening to spill out.
Right as you’re about to teeter over the edge, your bedroom door bursts open with a little girl barreling straight for you two. You sit up as quickly as possible, fixing your hair to look like you weren’t just getting eaten out.
“Mommy!” Charlie cheers, waddling to your side of the bed, reaching out for your hands.
“Hi, honey! Good morning.” You muster up a smile, grasping the girl’s tiny hands.
Alex huffs under the blankets and thumps her head on the inside of your thigh, realizing that she was just proven wrong.
“What’s mama doing?” Charlie asks, tilting her head curiously to the side, staring at the big lump under the blankets.
Your heart stutters and eyes slightly widen. You lightly smack the back of your fiancée, signaling for her to get up and for the love of god wipe her face.
“Mama is just being silly. Why don’t you go downstairs and put on some cartoons while mama and I get ready to make breakfast, yeah?” The little girl enthusiastically nods and tramples off, allowing you to let out a sigh of relief.
Alex peeks out from under the blanket with a sheepish smile, chin resting on your stomach. Her brown hair sticks to her forehead, blue eyes still blown with lust, lips glistening with evidence of what should have been your perfect morning.
You however are not so amused.
Your core aches, the pleasure that had been coiling so tightly now completely dissipated. And to top it all off, you have a three-year-old to entertain.
“Good morning my beautiful fiancée.” Alex says with a charming smile but is quickly shut down by one look from you.
Huffing, you shove her aside and yank your underwear and pajama shorts back into place. Alex watches as you toss the comforter off and storm into the bathroom, punctuating your exit with a sharp slam of the door.
The brunette stays seated in bed, staring blankly at the wall with a deep sigh. She runs her fingers through her bed head, combing through it to untangle the minor knots.
Minutes later, you reappear from the bathroom, shoulders slumping as you sink into the end of the mattress.
“I told you so.” You say, voice low and pointed.
Alex barely lifts her head from her phone, though her gaze flickers with guilt.
“I told you we didn’t have enough time, but you insisted—”
“And I am so, so sorry, my love.” Alex scoots up behind you, slipping her arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.
“Mmm, I know you are, and that’s why you will be going downstairs and making our daughter breakfast while I go take a much-needed shower.” You place a chaste kiss on the girl’s cheek before getting up to gather your clothes for after the shower.
“That was a long shower.” Alex teases as you step into the kitchen, freshly dressed and looking far more put together than earlier.
“Well I had to give myself my own o-r-g-a-s-m which was remarkable by the way.” You taunt, spelling out the word because your daughter sits at the kitchen table, waiting for the pancakes your fiancée is currently flipping.
The striker freezes, expression dropping at your admission.
You smirk as you pluck a piece of fruit from the counter behind her, pop it into your mouth, and stroll over to Charlie.
“Shit.” Alex curses under her breath when she realizes the pancake had been left on one side for too long.
“Hey, honey. How’d you sleep last night?” You ask the young girl beside you who is currently scribbling away in her coloring book.
“I slept good. I dreamed about my stuffed animals talking to me and we had to save you and mama from the king of the wolves!” Charlie rambles enthusiastically while you smile and nod your head with a huff of laughter.
“Did you save us?”
“I don’t know! I woke up before the end.”
“Oh no.” You dramatically gasp with a hand on your chest.
You and Charlie both talk and giggle with one another as you help color a butterfly in on her page. Alex watches from afar with a soft smile on her face, never getting tired of seeing you two together.
“Did someone call for pancakes?” Your fiancée walks over with a plate full of the fluffy food, some vegan for herself and the rest regular for you and Charlie.
“Thank you, my love.” You smile, looking up at Alex who begins to lean down for a kiss before a tiny hand blocks her way.
“Wha—”
“My mommy.”
You giggle behind your hand at the little standoff happening in front of you. Alex pouts, glaring playfully while Charlie scowls right back.
This behavior has been highly usual with Charlie for the past couple of weeks. She is constantly attached to your hip whether it’s movie night, taking a walk, or even sitting at the dinner table.
Alex thought it was just a phase, but now she’s starting to wonder if her kid is stealing her fiancée out of spite. She’s not sure what Charlie could possibly be spiteful about, but that’s the only explanation she can come up with.
“Alright you two. Let’s sit down and have some wonderful pancakes mama made for us, yeah?” Charlie’s glare is soon wiped off her face, cheering when she notices your smile.
“Here you go, pumpkin.” Alex reaches over to help cut the food up for Charlie when the young girl smacks her hand away. Your fiancée recoils with a small noise and a shocked look.
“I want mommy to do it.” Your daughter huffs, switching her look to you with puppy dog eyes.
“She wants mommy to do it.” Alex mutters under her breath, mimicking the toddler’s tone as she hands you the fork and knife.
You smile sympathetically at the striker, rubbing your free hand up and down her back in reassurance.
After breakfast, Alex heads to the living room with Charlie after you insisted on doing the dishes since she cooked. Alex doesn’t argue. You’re always on about balance in a relationship which started because she insists on pampering you 24/7, and you wanted her to have a break too.
Alex plops down in the middle of the couch. Charlie, however, sits as close to the edge as she possibly can, still holding a grudge over mama stealing you earlier.
A few minutes later, you walk out with a relieved sigh and slump onto the other side of Alex. Your fiancée lifts her arm to wrap around your shoulders with a warm smile only for Charlie to immediately hop between you two, shoving her little body in the middle.
“You do know she’s my fiancée, missy.” Alex says, quirking an eyebrow when Charlie grasps onto you like a koala to a tree.
“But she’s my mommy.”
“So I’ve heard.” Your fiancée mutters, rolling her eyes.
With a dramatic sigh, she starts to scoot down the couch, but before she can, you reach out.
“You know, there’s plenty of room for all of us on the couch.” You extend your hand out for the striker, Charlie intertwines her hand with yours first.
“No! Only room for me and mommy.”
You bite your lip to contain your smile when you see Alex’s nose flare and eye twitch at the little girl’s statement. Your fiancée swiftly gets up and slowly walks behind the couch, dragging her index finger along the backside of it.
“Well,” she murmurs, circling like a predator, “how would you feel if I got a kiss from Mommy?”
She gently tilts your chin, about to steal a kiss when Charlie’s little hands grab onto both of your cheeks and yanks your attention back to her.
“Mommy, look at me!”
You chuckle, placing a quick kiss on Charlie’s forehead. Alex, however, glares at her tiny nemesis.
The tall brunette eventually gives up and stomps upstairs with a loud groan.
“Where are you going?” You call after her.
“Somewhere where I’m actually wanted. Our bed!”
“Someone’s grumpy today.” Jaedyn mutters to a nodding Naomi, both watching Alex angrily kick a ball across the field.
“She’s been like this all week! Someone’s gotta do something.” Naomi sighs, shaking her head as Alex stomps off to get some water.
As practice continues, your fiancée’s frustration only seems to escalate. The rest of the team bears the brunt of her aggression: forceful passes, irritated groans, and an overall short fuse.
“What’s going on with that limp, Girma?” Casey asks, having noticed the discomfort of the defender the past few minutes.
“Just some tightness and cramping.” Naomi waves her hand in dismissal, but Casey quickly shakes her head and points to the tunnel.
“Go visit, Y/n, and get that kink sorted out. Can’t have my best player hurting.” The coach winks with a smile.
You're sorting through paperwork when a familiar figure appears at your door. You look up with a smile, tucking away some files before walking over to the exam chair where the girl is sat.
“Hey, Nay! What’s going on? Someone told me you were coming due to calf issues?” You ask, slipping on some rubber gloves for precaution.
“Umm, actually I’m feeling just fine. I came here to talk to you…about Alex.”
Your hands freeze mid-motion before you pull the gloves off, brows furrowing slightly.
“Oh.”
Naomi watches you with her lip tucked in between her teeth, wondering if she has intruded on something she shouldn’t have.
“Well what’s going on with Alex?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows
“I don’t mean to intrude, so if I am, please tell me. But she’s been grumpy all week, and today it’s even worse. I’m not sure if anything happened between you two or what’s going on because you both drive here together and look just fine.”
Inhaling, your eyes wander across the room wondering what could make your fiancée happy at home but grumpy here. Now that you think about it, your fiancée has been acting a little off at home, and maybe she’s concealing it more there because of Charlie.
“Nothing happened at home that I know of. Did she say anything or did someone say something before she got in this mood?” You question, attempting to get any information to help with this new found mystery.
“Huh, I never thought about that. Oh! Emily brought up Alex needing to get laid as a joke a few days ago.” Naomi rolls her eyes repeating the statement, realizing how blunt it sounds out loud.
And suddenly it clicks. Alex hasn’t been grumpy at home, she’s been clingy and pouty. You realize this Charlie clingy situation has been affecting her more than you thought, having barely any time for each other.
Naomi watches your mouth open and head tilt with a nod, signaling you may have figured out what’s wrong.
“I think I know exactly what’s going on.”
“Mommy, I don’t wanna go!” Charlie cries out, clinging onto your leg while Servando watches with an amused grin.
“Don’t you wanna spend time with daddy? He even said you can have ice cream before dinner!”
“I did?” He raises an eyebrow in confusion.
“Yes you did. Remember?” You smile with gritted teeth, nodding your head down at the little girl who is clinging so tight to your leg you feel like you’re losing circulation.
“Right! I remember now. Don’t you want ice cream with daddy, and maybe some Disney movies?” Servando extends his hand, watching Charlie peek her head out from your leg.
“I guess, but you promise you will miss me?” You almost melt at the question.
“I’ll miss you so, so much, my Charlie-girl. But you’re going to have so much fun, you might even forget about me for a little while!”
She gasps dramatically at the thought, eyes wide as if the idea is absurd. But after a moment of contemplation, she finally nods, letting Servando scoop her up. You send him a grateful smile, throwing in one more thank you before they head out.
Alex, however, has no idea about this little change of plans. Normally, Charlie would be home tonight, but realizing how little time you and your fiancée have had alone, you decided to surprise her.
And now, with the house empty and a rare moment to yourselves, you set the perfect mood.
Around an hour later, keys can be heard jingling at the door before Alex appears in the doorway. She hesitates, eyes narrowing as she notices the lack of light and sound in the house. It’s unusual. Normally, she’d be greeted by giggles, the hum of cartoons, or at the very least, your voice.
Her steps are slow and cautious as she makes her way through the house, not wanting to wake up what she figured was a two person nap. Once she finally makes her way up the stairs, her eyebrows raise at the dim light spilling through the crack of your bedroom door.
Pushing it open, she stops dead in her tracks.
“What’s going on here?” The striker asks, scanning the scene before her.
Candles flicker across the room, casting soft golden light. A trail of rose petals winds from the doorway to the perfectly made bed, the air thick with the scent of vanilla and jasmine.
Then her eyes land on you.
“Welcome home, baby.”
You step out from the shadows of the bathroom, wrapped in navy blue lace, the color that makes her weak. Two flutes of champagne rest in your hands as you slowly make your way to her, the sway of your hips hypnotizing.
Alex watches you with barely concealed hunger, placing her phone on the bedside table before sinking onto the edge of the mattress. You approach her with a sly grin and carefully straddle her lap, careful not to spill the liquid in the two glasses.
Flipping your hair to the side, you hand her one of the glasses. Alex takes it, fingers brushing over yours as her gaze lingers over your body.
“What’s this all for?” She asks, voice thick with curiosity.
“We haven’t had enough time to ourselves, so I figured I’d surprise you.” You hum, roaming your finger along her jawline.
“And Charlie?”
“With Servando.”
Alex exhales slowly, a smirk tugging at her lips as she sets both glasses aside. Her hands find your hips, fingers tracing the delicate lace, exploring every curve as she takes you in like a masterpiece.
“What did I do to deserve you?” Alex whispers with dreamy eyes.
“Maybe wished upon a star.” You tease with a smile, tilting your head.
She chuckles, but the sound is quickly swallowed when you lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss that turns desperate in seconds—needy, just like the two of you have been.
Alex’s grip tightens, her hands roaming with growing urgency. Whatever patience she had is long gone.
“Maybe I can make up for that morning that was interrupted a few days ago?” Your fiancée mumbles against your lips, voice dripping with lust.
“Just fuck me, Alex.”
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lovecla · 2 days ago
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FAVORITE KIND OF NIGHT ; HUGHES, SLAFKOVSKÝ
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PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, juraj slafkovský x fem!reader, ex-cole caufield x fem!reader
SUMMARY when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends.
WORD COUNT 5,5k
WARNINGS taboo content, cheating, foursome (f/m/m/m), p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, mention of stomach bulge, creampie, double p in v, rough sex, manhandling, dirty talk, humiliation, subspace, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), gagging, dacryphilia, brief aftercare.
FROM ME TO YOU my loves, listen to your clara very carefully: if you do not agree with ANY of what’s written here, please consider not reading. this is just a silly idea i had a few days ago and i wanted to write about it. i have zero intentions of offending anyone: this is pure fiction! none of this is real! anyways, thank you @cyberhughes for listening to my naughty thoughts about this plot and for having my back. love you juni baby, this one’s for you <3 and for those who are still here, have a nice reading!
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on that lonely night, said it wouldn't be love
but we felt the rush (fell in love)
it made us believe it was only us
THE THING about being a hockey girlfriend is that you will, most certainly, get cheated on.
When you first heard that, you thought it was just bullshit— not all men are the same and all of that. Some people were just unfortunate to have shitty boyfriends, but not you.
Or at least that’s what you thought before watching a viral video of your boyfriend of two years kissing three different girls at a party.
The video was blurry, and maybe if you were a little bit more naive, you wouldn’t have noticed that the man eating those girls’ lips was, in fact, Cole Caufield, the man you swore to be the love of your life.
“Maybe it’s not him, Y/n,” your friend said, voice soft and gentle, as she put your phone down and locked it. “Cole wouldn’t do that… right?”
Right, you want to say. Of course he wouldn’t do that.
But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie and betray your own trust. You sat there, on your couch, thinking about what you were going to do.
Your relationship was public, Cole had already posted pictures of you several times over the years, but now, so was the fact that he cheated on you with not just one girl, but with two more.
Now, everyone knows that you got cheated on, and that you weren’t an exception to the Hockey rule.
“‘s okay,” you sniff, cleaning your nose with your sweater’s sleeve. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t, really, but what else could you do?
Truth is, even though you love— loved?— Cole a lot, you had been feeling a little bit weird. Cole didn’t seek you anymore, he didn’t look at you the same way he used to do when you first started dating.
You thought it was just the fact that he was tired and feeling responsible for his team’s recklessness, but clearly, it wasn’t just that.
Days passed after the terrible, awful video, and even though you hadn’t spoken to Cole in probably two weeks— he was away and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his texts—, you wanted to break things up with him in person.
“Why would you do that?” Your friend asked over the phone, and you sighed.
“Because I’m better than he is,” you say. “And because I need to get closure.”
“I guess you’re right,” she sighs, and then she’s quiet for a few seconds. But, “I need to tell you something.”
“What?” You ask, rolling to your side. “What is it?”
“There’s going to be a party at Zegras’ place tonight,” she says. “Heard Cole shit ass is going.”
“Who told you that?”
“I was talking to one of his new buddies, and he invited me to the party. Said I could go if I kept my mouth shut to you,” she scoffed. “I thought about telling him to hell and then telling him to fuck himself but I thought it might be more useful to pretend I wasn’t going to tell you anything and then tell you everything.”
You chuckled. “Yeah. We’re going, then?”
“We so are going,” she giggles. “I’ll bring the eggs.”
“I’ll bring the flour.”
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THE PARTY looked more like a frat party than anything, which lowkey disgusted you.
You knew the majority of the players were young and still in their teenager mindset, but whenever you went to a party, it usually had more decorum than whatever this was.
The music was so loud you couldn’t hear your friend talking next to you. People were grinding against each other like they were in heat and ready to fuck in front of everyone, and the room had a strong smell of marijuana and cheap beer.
You rolled your eyes but focused on your reason to be there: find Cole, break up with him and maybe even embarrass him in front of all of his friends.
You tried to warn your friend about where you were going, but since the music was too loud, you just signaled to the door on your right. She nodded, and you moved around the room, feeling with your feet the way the floor shook with the song’s thrumming.
Fortunately, you didn’t have to walk much. Cole’s stupid ass seemed to have forgotten to close his room’s door, and now you were staring at the 5’8” man you thought was going to be the father of your kids, kissing another girl.
“So, this looks really fun, huh?” You said, closing the room’s door, and suddenly, all of the eyes were on you. Cole’s included.
“Y-Y/n, what,” he stutters, removing the girl from his lap and getting up. “What are you doing here, baby?”
“No, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling yourself start to burn with anger. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”
“No, you see—”
“Is your name New York, sweetie?” You ask the girl who was previously kissing him, who looks like a scared, little kitten. Little does she know you’re not going after her— you couldn't care less about her. “Uh, I guess not.”
There were at least eight other people in the room, sitting there and goofing around. But now, all of them looked like they would pay a hundred thousand bucks not to be in Cole’s shoes.
“Y/n—” he tries again, reaching for your arm.
You step back, flinching away from his touch. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cole. You’re fucking sick. I hope y’all have fun,” you hiss, turning around and heading towards the room’s door again. You look over your shoulder, watching Cole’s sorrowful face. “Enjoy as much as you can, darling. I know his dick won’t make you happy.”
You leave the room with fast steps, not before hearing Cole’s so-called friends laugh out loud with your words. You could feel yourself burning with anger, which made you happy. You thought you were going to feel destroyed, sad and depressed when you confronted him about the fact that he cheated on you regularly.
But after seeing his pathetic expression and actions, you realised you weren’t the one who should be feeling that way.
Your legs were moving on their own, and when you noticed, you were on the second floor, barging in another room, opening its door with full strength.
Only to blush even more, this time not with anger, no.
“Oh, hey there, Y/n. Where’s the fire?”
Jack’s sarcastic tone made you hold the door’s handle tighter, and when you looked around, you felt like a fish out of its tank.
The room was poorly lit, only the yellow light from the lamps reflected on the dark walls of the room, making the environment seem more intimate than it really was.
There were sofas along the room, and low music was playing, probably coming from one of the cell phones.
Because not only Jack Hughes was there, but his oldest brother, Quinn and Juraj Slafkovský.
You didn’t even know Quinn and Jack got along with Slaf, yet there they were, sitting and chatting with each other like they weren’t all rivals during the weekdays.
They laughed with Jack’s little remark before Quinn said: “You can come in, we don’t bite.”
“Unless you want to.” Juraj was the one who said this, to your ultimate surprise, and you rolled your eyes, doing as they said and getting in, closing the door behind you.
“Dude, come on,” Jack laughs. “She has a boyfriend.”
“Not anymore,” you say, for the first time since you opened the door. You eyed the drink cart in the corner of the room, taking full steps towards it and opening the first bottle you say. Whiskey. Great. “I just broke up with Cole, actually.”
There was a second of silence before you heard some clapping behind you, which made you turn around and stare at the grown men sitting across the room.
“What’s this clapping for?” You ask.
“It was about time, Y/n, what the hell,” Juraj says. “Guy’s been cheating on you for months.”
“And you guys didn’t think of, I don’t know, maybe give me a heads up?” You ask, sarcasm pouring out of your mouth while you pour the alcoholic drink in the glass sitting on the wooden surface. Then, you walk until you’re sitting beside Quinn and Juraj. “Would’ve been nice.”
“Sorry,” Quinn says, poking your shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t around enough to know he was cheating.”
“In my defense,” Jack starts. “I don’t like him.”
“In my defense,” Juraj finishes, opening his legs and resting his arms behind his head. “I couldn’t do it, because I would’ve been called a homewrecker.”
You almost choked on your drink. “What?!”
“You know I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages now,” he sighs, like he’s tired of saying that; like he’s been saying that for a long time now. “But you can’t exactly fuck your homie’s girlfriend, can you?”
“Word.” Jack says, leaning forward to fist bumping Juraj. Quinn only chuckles and you can’t believe your eyes.
You’ve known all of them for basically the same amount of time, and you liked them a lot. Jack was a little, teasing shit, way too different from Quinn, but he was funny and so were his brothers— hanging out with them was always fun.
Quinn was private but sweet, probably one of your favorite people in the league. His soft spoken demeanor had made its way into your heart and was now stuck there, for the rest of your life, probably.
And Juraj was an old friend, someone you knew even before you started dating Cole— he was the reason you and Cole got together in the first place.
So hearing that one of your closest friends wants to have sex with you is weird, especially because he had just confessed that in front of two other men.
You stare at them, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”
“Come on, Y/n, you can’t be this oblivious,” Jack grunts, and you tilt your head, confused. “You didn’t notice the way he looks at you?”
“Fuck you, Hughes,” Slaf curses, giving him the middle finger. “Like you’re one to talk. Everyone knows you’re head over heels for her and you know which head I’m talking about.”
Quinn laughs like what Slaf said had been the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, while Jack simply shrugs and looks at you with expectant eyes.
“You are all drunk. That’s the only explanation I can find,” you say, still choosing not to see what is right in front of you. “And I’m about to be the next one.”
You took just one sip before Quinn wrapped his hand around your glass and took it out of your hands. You were about to complain and ask him what happened when he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “We are not drunk, Y/n. And we don’t want you to be.”
“What? Why not?” You ask. “I promise I’m not that type of person who talks about their love life when they’re drunk. I might talk about Tik Tok memes, though.”
“That’s worse than talking about your shit ass love life,” Jack murmurs and you turn around to look at him with angry eyes. “What?” He asks, grinning, with his hands in the air.
“It’s not my fault I can’t find the right guys,” you sigh, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulder like you’re used to doing. “Why do men suck?”
“Not all of them do, sweets.” Quinn says, placing his hand on your naked thigh, making you blush faintly.
“We don’t.” Juraj murmurs beside you, and you hum.
“Well,” you say, measuring your words. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any of you. So, yeah, I still have the same problem.”
“Who said you can’t have any of us?” Juraj says, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Or even better, all of us.”
There’s a beat of silence. The room is suddenly too warm for you, and even if you’re just wearing a skirt and a crop top, you still feel yourself starting to get sweaty.
The song is still playing, an unknown melody reverberating through the room, and what once felt big and spacious suffocates you now.
“You guys. You can’t be serious… right?” You ask, looking at each and every single one of them in the eye.
Jack is the first one to break the silence. “Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever thought about us like that?”
You can feel their eyes on you as you think of what to answer. You can’t say you haven’t— that would be a lie. You were loyal to Cole and you loved him, but you weren’t blind.
And now that you’re really thinking, these guys hadn’t been particularly sleek either; Jack with his obsession with calling you pet names, Quinn finding any and every excuse to touch you whenever you were in the same room and Juraj eye-fucking you from afar while you cuddled with his teammate.
So yeah, you have wondered about it before, but it all sounded so insane you didn’t think about it twice. The odds of all four of them liking you were pretty low, so why bother fooling yourself with these kinds of thoughts?
But now, you were sitting in the same room as them, with Juraj’s arm touching yours, Quinn’s hand running up and down your leg, and Jack’s eyes on you, like you were a prey or something similar.
“We can’t do that,” you whisper, trying your hardest to hold onto that single piece of sanity and morals you still had. “You guys are insane. Jack, Quinn’s your brother.” You reason, expecting to knock some sense into them.
Quinn squeezes your thigh slightly. “It wouldn’t be our first time.”
“Besides, it’s fine because we’re not going to fuck each other,” Jack says, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“We are going to fuck you,” Juraj corrects, and you close your eyes, holding your hands together on your lap, trying to keep them still. “What do you say, chéri?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your neck, his strong, masculine scent making your head spin. His lips briefly touch your neck, the contact so light you wouldn’t feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of your surroundings.
Quinn’s warm, big hand is moving up, up and up, and that startles you.
You get up, panting as hard as if you had ran an entire marathon, and you stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. By your friends who had just asked to fuck you.
“I can’t— I can’t do this,” you whisper. “What about Cole, what about—”
“Sweetheart, Cole is probably balls deep inside someone else right now,” Quinn replies, and the others hum in agreement. “If you don’t want it because you don’t want to, it’s fine, you know we’d never force you. But,” he spreads his thighs, the outline of his cock is visible and right there for you to see. You gulp, not sure of what to do. “If you don’t want to do it because you still believe Cole deserves your kindness, then I have to say—”
“You’re being dumb,” Juraj finishes Quinn’s sentence, smirking. “You’ll be crying over one small cock when you have three waiting for you. It’s your pick, really.”
Your head is spinning and you feel aware of your body, which is something you hate. You can feel your arms and legs starting to give in, and to your absolute horror and panic, you can feel your underwear start to get sticky.
You walk towards the door, ready to leave, ready to put this night behind and pretend this was all a fever dream, and never think about this again. But, as you grab the handle, you know you won’t be able to forget this, not even if you wanted to.
So, you stop being a hypocrite, and grab the door’s key, locking the door once, and then twice, before exhaling and turning around again.
All three of them are staring at you, with the same expression; lust. It’s sinful and you are certain that you’re going to hell for this, but as you start to get undressed, right there, in the middle of the room, for all of them to see, you can’t help but feel like what you’re doing is nothing but right.
You remove your crop top, pulling the fabric over your head and dropping it on the floor, shivering slightly when the cold breeze hits your naked skin. You do the same with your skirt, letting it fall around your feet like a river, leaving you standing with only your bra and lace underwear in front of them.
“Fuck.” You hear one of them say, you’re not sure who, the word nothing but a whisper.
Juraj is the first one to get up, and get his hands on you. He’s rough, hungry and not careful at all, something you’re not used to but like it anyway.
His lips are on yours almost instantly, and his hands are holding you down while he licks and sucks your mouth. He tastes like some kind of candy you’ve had before, and your brain is screaming that what you’re doing is wrong, so wrong and that you literally just broke up with your boyfriend of two years not even thirty minutes ago but you can’t stop.
It’s maddening, it’s addictive and you want more.
It gets worse when you feel another pair of hands on your back, unclamping your bra. You hear a soft tud, which you can only assume is your bralette hitting the floor. Then, there are hands squeezing your tits, hands almost as rough as Slaf’s, and it has you moaning inside his mouth.
“So fucking soft,” you hear Jack say behind you as he gets closer, his hard dick poking your ass over your underwear. “Tits so fucking soft for us, baby.”
And he pinches both of your nipples, making you whimper loud and separate your lips from Juraj’s. There’s a saliva string connecting both of you and it makes you feel nasty.
He gives you a brief peck before gently slapping your thighs twice, silently asking you to remove your underwear, which you promptly do. You slide your lace panties over your legs, shyly throwing them away from you.
It’s only then that you notice Quinn staring at you from the couch, half naked with his dick out of his boxers— the thought of him getting off only by watching you makes you squeeze your thighs together, to stop your hole from clenching around nothing.
“Let’s get you wet and ready, alright?” Juraj says, manhandling you around like you were just a toy for him to break, until your back touched the cold, wooden surface of the table sitting in the middle of the dark room. You arch your back, pouting with the coldness and Slaf coos at you. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable than this.”
“Like she cares about comfort,” Quinn snorts. “The only thing she’s worried about it’s whether she’s taking one or two cocks in that greedy pussy of hers.”
The humiliation Quinn’s words bring you is almost unbearable, yet it has you dripping anyway. Their laughs, the way they’re all staring at you like some piece of meat makes you feel hot all over.
Juraj lays you down carefully, only to spread your legs open with the same roughness he used before, when his lips were on yours. You yelped, feeling exposed and embarrassed— your bare, glistening pussy was on display for all three of them to see.
“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, Juraj maybe, and you cringe, hiding your face with your hands. “She’s perfect.”
“We’ll see about that,” you hear Jack say behind you and you remove your hands from your face. Suddenly, he’s sliding his pants down, his dick touching his covered abs as wraps his fist around his length, slowly jerking off in front of you.
You’re watching it in awe, even as you stare at him upside down, since your head is hanging off the table’s edge. He smirks down at you at the same time Juraj licks your clenching hole, making you moan for the first time, loud and involuntary.
“Ah.”
“Shit,” you hear Slaf say. “Pussy so fucking wet and sweet. Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy.”
You don’t answer; not because you don’t want to but because Jack places his hands on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth forms the perfect O and he can slide his entire dick inside it.
He moans noisily as you gag on his long dick. It’s an unexpected feeling, to have your throat fucked like this— Cole wasn’t a big fan of messy, rough blowjobs— but fuck if it doesn’t get you wetter.
Juraj is still working hard on your pussy, licking your folds and throbbing clit, eating it with a loud slurp, the sound of your wetness making you close your eyes with pleasure and shame.
“Your mouth feels so good, pretty,” Jack moans behind you, still holding your head in place while he drags his dick through your throat. Your eyes are wet with unshed tears and you feel your mouth so full it is starting to hurt. “Almost as tight as a pussy.”
It’s overwhelming to try to manage the feeling of Juraj’s tongue and Jack’s cock on you. You feel warm, your hands are gripping the table like your life depends on it, and you can feel yourself start to slip more and more.
“She’s wet enough already,” Quinn states, and the fact that he’s referring to you like you’re not even there makes you whimper loudly around Jack’s cock.
Next thing you know, you’re being manhandled again; Jack’s rough hands leave your cheeks to hold your waist instead, taking you to the nearest couch and laying down with you on top of him.
You’re facing him, those blue eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n,” he starts, his tone gentle for the first time that night. You hum, adjusting yourself on top of him, until you have both of your legs on each side of his body, almost on fours on top of him, highly aware that Quinn and Slaf could see everything. “We are going to be rough.”
“I know,” you whisper.
“I’m not asking for permission, baby, do you understand that?” He talks to you like one would do to a child, using a tone so soft it could put you to sleep, if it were any other situation. You bite your lips, feeling Slaf’s long fingers sliding up and down your pussy, rubbing circles on your swollen clit while Jack speaks. “We are going to be rough. Tonight, you’re nothing but a toy for us to play with, alright? A hole for us to fuck.”
You nod, closing your eyes momentarily as Juraj pinches your clit, hard. He tugs it and it feels like he just placed a clothespin on you. It hurts so. Good.
“I need your words, baby.”
“I u-understand that,” you sob, hot tears running freely down your face as you continue to speak. “I w-want it.”
Jack chuckles, touching your face with care. “It would be so nice if we actually cared about what you want, huh?”
You bit your lip again, suppressing a loud moan. It would be even more embarrassing if they realized how wet you got every time they were mean towards you.
“Bitch gets wetter and wetter every time you say shit like that, Hughes,” Juraj says, and your entire face burns with shame, as you hide it in the crock of Jack’s neck. “Come see this shit, Quinn.”
You tremble as you hear a pair of steps echoing through the room, and without warning, you feel your hips getting lifted, just slightly, at the same time you feel two fingers being inserted inside deeply in your pussy.
You whine loudly, not even feeling pain with how wet you were. His fingers were moving around like you were nothing but a sex doll, making you hold Jack’s arm to steady yourself.
“Look at this tight, little thing,” Juraj says, twirling his fingers around, scissoring them inside you. “Merde. She’s milking my fucking fingers, bro.”
“I can see that,” Quinn hums. “Pussy so fucking greedy she’s taking you without complaints.”
You were about to moan again when Juraj removed his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing, once again. “Let’s start, then.”
After that, it’s hard to tell what really happened. You were thrown around, and suddenly, Slaf was laying under you, Quinn was standing beside you and you assumed Jack was behind you.
You could feel one of them poking their cock through your slit, gathering all your wetness to use as lube. Then, he slowly started to insert it, the stretch making you whimper inside Slaf’s mouth, as he bruised your lips roughly again.
Jack had barely given you time to adjust to his length when you felt Juraj’s tip poking at your entrance too. You gasped inside his mouth, feeling his dick joining Jack’s inside you and.
Oh.
“Fuck, Y/n.”
You opened your eyes, glistening with tears, and stared at Quinn standing beside you, who was looking at you with fond eyes. He chuckles while staring down at you, taking his dick out again and grabbing it with his right hand, running the tip over your mouth.
The salty taste of his precum painting your lips white distracted you momentarily from the fact that Juraj was still trying to put his dick inside you, accompanying Jack’s.
But it wasn’t enough, of course— even if Juraj's thick, long fingers had stretched you, it didn’t compare to having both of their cocks inside you, together.
“Oh,” you heard Quinn coo. “She’s crying. Maybe she can’t take it?”
You shook your head immediately, not even acknowledging how desperate you looked. Quinn put his thumb inside your mouth at the same time Juraj completely bottomed out inside you, making you scream around the brunette’s finger.
“Sh, sh,” Juraj mumbled under you. “Take it, hm?”
The stretch hurt, yet you couldn’t ask them to stop— you felt so full and you swear you can feel them rearranging your guts, reaching so deep inside your body that if you were to look, you’d probably see a bulge in your stomach.
“Holy shit, man,” Jack moaned, dragging his dick slowly until only the tip was in, so that he could slam it back into you again. “She’s so fucking tight.”
“Move, Hughes.” Juraj hissed under you, and after that, everything fell into a pure state of lust.
Jack and Juraj slammed their cocks inside you rhythmically, like they were dancing a well rehearsed dance. Your body jolted forward as they pounded inside you, rough hands— you didn’t know who's— holding you by your waist and pulling your hair at the same time.
Quinn, who had just been jerking his cock while looking at you, decides to take the opportunity and shove his dick inside you, making you gag around his thick length.
“Shit, Y/n,” he moans, throwing his head back. “I’m going to wreck your mouth like they’re doing with your pussy.”
And he wasn’t lying. He tilted your head to the side and thrust his dick deep inside your mouth, until your nose touched his crotch area. You gagged, still not used to the reckless act, but you were far too gone to complain.
The room smelled like sex, lust and sin. The dark walls watched as you laid on top of Juraj’s much bigger body while you took their cocks in two of your holes, with your pupils blown and wide. Your face was destroyed, it didn’t need to be a genius to realize that; your mascara had smudged under your eyes and the tears had spread the black ink almost everywhere.
Your legs hurt, and so did your jaw, but the pleasure was bigger than any pain. You had never felt this dirty, this raw before, but you feared that after this night, you wouldn’t ever be the same; nothing besides them would ever be enough.
“She feels so good,” Jack says, voice filled with need. “She was born for this.”
“Fuck, you’re right,” Juraj says, kissing your neck while you gagged around Quinn’s dick. “Born to take cock inside her tiny pussy.”
After that, you keep slipping and slipping. You come on their dicks at least twice, falling apart each time you feel your wetness coating their dicks.
Your throat is raw, your jaw is hurting, but Quinn is close to his climax, like his brother and Slaf.
Jack and Slaf are the first to come, both painting your walls white with their seed. It’s maddening, your belly feels full of them, but you don’t have time to acknowledge that properly, not when Quinn is also coming deep inside your throat.
You lay limp on top of Slaf’s broad chest, closing your eyes, tired.
But—
“Y/n, hey,” you hear Quinn calling, and you open your eyes, just barely. “Can you stand up, just for a bit?”
“Don’t let it go to waste, baby,” Juraj warns you, and you keep clenching even after they remove their dicks. It’s hard, you feel so open you should be disgusted at yourself but you still try to do as they said.
You feel a pair of hands lifting you, and you sigh, exhausted. They manhandled you until you were laying on top of the couch, head resting on your arms. A rough pair of hands— Jack’s— spread your legs open, leaving you exposed once again.
“Go on,” he commands, and you let it go, feeling their sticky cum pour out of your used, gaping pussy. You sob, feeling dirty.
“Jesus fuck.”
“I think I’m hard again.”
“Lowkey, yeah.”
You collapse on the couch once you feel like there’s nothing left, blacking out as soon as your head hits the leather.
𖧷
YOU WOKE up with a light touch on your cheek.
It takes a while for you to manage to open your eyes, but when you do, you thank whoever decided to put a yellow, warm lighting in that room.
“Hi.”
Jack’s voice brings you back to the present, and you lift your head, only then realising that you were in his lap, fully clothed— with clothes that weren’t yours— and covered with something heavy that felt like a blanket.
You frowned.
“What… what happened?” You ask, looking around. There was Juraj, who was placing a few takeout bags on the table, and Quinn, who was holding an old piece of cloth. “Oh my God.”
It was real. You fucked Jack, Juraj and Quinn.
“Oh my God,” you groan, hiding your face in Jack’s chest.
“I hope these exclamations of yours are because you’re wearing Zegras’ hideous clothes and not because you realized you fucked the three of us.” Jack says, sarcasm taking over his face.
“Why would we do that,” you mumble. “Gosh. That’s wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to—”
“Y/n,” Quinn calls you, dropping the cloth on the table— the same table Juraj had eaten you out on— and walking towards you, lifting your chin with two of his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I— Well— We—” you stumbled over your words, not sure of what to say.
He applies pressure on your chin, sapphire eyes squinting at you. “Answer me, sweetheart.”
“I—” you sighed. “Yeah. I did.”
He smiled.
“Then we’re fine.” It’s all he says, before pecking your lips, briefly. It was your first time kissing him and you secretly didn’t want it to be the last.
“We liked it too,” Jack says once his brother lets you go. He winks at you, smirking. “I’ll never forget the sight of you full with my—”
You put your hand over his mouth, red as an apple. “Okay, alright, shut up.”
He chuckles, taking your hand away and kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue, just like his brother had done, barely two minutes ago.
“You guys are no fun,” you hear Slaf’s voice. “In my opinion, we should just keep doing this.”
“No,” you say. “This was a one time thing. We can’t keep fucking each other like this.”
“As I said, no fun.”
“She’ll change her mind in a few days, I just know it.” Jack says under you and you roll your eyes at his cockiness.
“I’m too tired to argue with you,” you say. “I smell Chinese food. Can we eat?”
“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Quinn says, nodding. “It’s late already. Let’s eat and take Y/n home.”
Juraj and Jack agree with just a few more complaints, and while you watch them take turns to feed you, you realize, with shame, that Jack was wrong about one thing.
It wouldn’t take a few days for you to change your mind.
You had already done it.
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NHL MASTERLIST.
JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST.
QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST.
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419 notes · View notes
greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago
Note
could you do a story where frontman is readers sugar daddy, please and thank you I ❤️ your writing.
Luxury & Lies— Hwang In-ho x Fem!Reader
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summary— Being In-ho’s sugar baby came with luxuries beyond your wildest dreams. You never questioned where his wealth came from, only cared about what you could get out of him. But when you stumbled upon the truth, the Squid Game and the power he held as the Front Man, you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage. And In-ho? He’d do anything to keep you.
warnings— Sugar daddy!in-ho, manipulation, cunnilingus, body worship, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.
a/n— Thank you and enjoy <3
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Youth and beauty on the outside was not eternal, that being said, you were always one to use it to your advantage.
It was by using those assets that caused you to stumble upon Hwang In-ho. He was an older yet very attractive man and obviously very wealthy. You knew how to play the game right and the night you had met In-ho, you were seated in the lounge area of an upscale restaurant that was famous for transactions like this.
He slipped into the seat next to you, decked in an expensive suit and as soon as you flipped your hair and tilted your head, he was sold.
You didn’t have to say much, especially when it came to older men, you let him do the talking, you were just there to look pretty and get what you want. And you got way more than you bargained for being Hwang In-ho’s sugar baby.
In-ho always gave you what you wanted. That was the foundation of your arrangement. You asked, and he delivered—no questions, no hesitations. It started with luxury handbags and designer clothes and shoes, then first class trips and five star hotels, and before you knew it, you had an entire apartment paid for in your name and a collection of jewelry that could make royalty jealous.
Being with In-ho meant being spoiled, but it also meant playing your role. You were his eye candy at every event, the one in his arm in dresses he picked out for you, flashing a smile that made investors and business partners envious. You liked the life you lived, liked the way people looked at you when you walked into a room together.
You never questioned how he could afford it all. What did it matter? You weren’t with him for his morality, you were with him for what he could give you.
But then you found out.
It had been an accident, really. You were in his office at the penthouse, bored and nosy, and you stumbled across a locked drawer in his desk. He always kept things private, but this was different, the secrecy intrigued you. So you looked until you found the key, expecting maybe some business documents or an old affair he never wanted you to know about.
You didn’t expect tapes.
Or the footage of people being slaughtered.
You sat frozen, watching clips from the so called Squid Game, men and women gunned down like animals, the screams piercing even through the speakers of his monitor. And there, in the midst of it all, was him—your sugar daddy, the man who paid for your lifestyle, standing over it all in that black mask.
The Front Man.
The truth settled like ice in your veins, but strangely, you weren’t horrified. You were curious.
For the first time since meeting In-ho, you had leverage.
So, you confronted him.
You remembered the way he looked at you when you brought it up. The sharp inhale. The slight flinch. He had tried to keep you in the dark for a reason, because, deep down, he feared this exact moment.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said, voice carefully neutral.
“Yeah?” You folded your arms. “Well, I did.”
A pause. A long, heavy silence. And then, a confession. He admitted everything. How long he had been in charge. What the games really were. The money, the power, the control.
“I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he said eventually, looking down. “I won’t stop you.”
That was the moment you could have walked away. Should have, maybe. But you had no intention of leaving.
Instead, you put on a show, acted like you needed time, like you were shaken and unsure. Let him panic, let him compensate.
And, oh, did he compensate.
A brand new penthouse apartment, yours, fully paid for. A car, your dream model, delivered to your doorstep. Cash in your account, a credit card linked to his bank account. Jewelry, vacations, an all expenses paid trip with your homegirls on his private jet, all while he stayed behind, giving you space.
He only texted you once.
“Let me know when you're ready to talk.”
When you had everything you wanted, you decided it was time.
The night you returned, he was already waiting in your penthouse, standing by the windows with a glass of whiskey.
“You look beautiful,” he said, scanning your outfit like he hadn’t seen you in weeks, which he hadn’t. “Did you have a good trip?”
“It was perfect,” you said, slipping off your coat and letting it drop onto the couch. “Thanks to you.”
He exhaled softly, nodding. “And are you ready to talk?”
“I am,” you said as you walked toward him slowly, heels clicking against the floor.
He tensed. You could see it in the way his fingers curled slightly against the glass, like he was bracing himself for the worst.
“You kept a huge secret from me, In-ho,” you murmured, stopping just inches away. “That’s not something I can just forgive overnight.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry. For all of it.”
“I bet you are.” You reached for his tie, giving it a gentle tug. “But sorry isn’t enough. You have to earn my trust again.”
His breathing hitched. “Anything,” he murmured, voice low. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
You smiled, slow and sultry. “Good,” you said, stepping backward toward the bedroom. “Then follow me.” And just like that, he did.
You led him across the penthouse, never looking back, because you didn’t need to, you could feel his presence behind you, could feel the heat of his stare. By the time you reached the bedroom, you stopped at the edge of the bed, tilting your head just slightly over your shoulder.
He was watching you with hungry, dark eyes, scanning every inch of you. And then, you let yourself fall back against the silk sheets, stretching out, parting your legs to make your point.
His breath came uneven. “You—”
“You said you’d do anything,” you murmured, hooking a leg around his waist and pulling him closer. “Show me.”
Something inside him snapped.
He was on you in seconds, his hands gripping you, lips crashing against yours with a desperation you had never felt from him before. He wasn’t just indulging you��he was proving himself.
For the rest of the night, he did exactly that.
Because at the end of the day, you always got what you wanted.
The second In-ho had you beneath him, it was like something inside him broke loose. His hands were at your clothes in an instant, fabric tearing under his grip as he stripped you naked. The sound of ripping seams filled the air, followed by a sharp gasp from you as cool air met your skin.
“In-ho—”
“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes flickering over you like he was soaking up every inch to memory.
His lips were on you before you could respond, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, over your breasts. His lips were everywhere, like he was trying to worship and make it up to you.
Then he was lower, his mouth pressing against your stomach, his hands holding you steady as you squirmed.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, breath catching.
“Look at you,” he groaned. “So perfect. Always so goddamn perfect for me.”
And then, he had you unraveling.
The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy had your back arching, fingers twisting into the sheets as pleasure shot through you like lightning. He moaned against you, gripping your thighs to hold you still, but you couldn’t—not when he was devouring you like this, like he had been starved for you.
“You taste so good,” he murmured against your pussy, pressing a kiss between every stroke of his tongue. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You barely heard him past the pleasure that built and built with every expert movement of his mouth. He was relentless, slow at first, savoring you, but when he felt you tense, when he heard the way you gasped his name, he tightened his grip and ravished you with ferocity that had your legs shaking.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear you.”
And when you finally came, when you cried out so loud you swore the whole city could hear, he only held you through it, kissing your thighs, whispering praises against your heated skin.
“You’re a dream,” he breathed, pressing a lingering kiss just below your navel. “So beautiful. So good for me.”
In-ho didn’t stop. Even after you were left trembling beneath him, after your breath was still shaky and your body tingled from the aftershocks, he kept kissing you, soft presses of his lips against your skin.
“You're everything,” he murmured between kisses, trailing from your chest to your lips. “More than I deserve.”
The way you shivered when his fingers brushed your breasts, the way your breath hitched when he pressed a kiss just below your chest. He worshiped you, whispering apologies against your skin.
“Forgive me,” he said, forehead resting against yours. “For everything. For keeping things from you, for being selfish enough to want you despite it all.”
You cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. “You're not losing me,” you promised softly, and the way his eyes darkened told you he believed you—but he needed to prove himself anyway.
His mouth found yours in a desperate kiss, hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you. You felt him—all of him, hard and heavy against your thigh.
Another thing about In-ho? He was the full package. The biggest you’d had, the biggest you probably ever would have, and he knew exactly how to use it.
He smirked at the way you swallowed hard, his hands skimming down your sides, teasing, making you wait.
“You always act like such a brat,” he murmured, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “Like you don’t need me.” His hand wrapped around your thigh, pulling you flush against him. “But then I get you like this, and you melt for me.”
“In-ho,” you gasped, gripping his shoulders.
“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dragging it out, making you feel every inch of his cock as he slowly pressed against your folds. “Let me take care of you.”
And when he finally gave in, when he finally stopped teasing and claimed you, it was deep, slow, possessive. He worshiped you, murmuring praises against your lips, against your skin. He filled you inch by inch, your pussy quivering around him.
“You're perfect,” he groaned. “Such a good girl for me.”
Your nails dug into his back, legs tightening around him as he pulled you closer, right on his dick. Every slow, deep stroke unraveled you, and he felt everything, the way you clung to him, the way you gasped his name like a prayer.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Give it to me. Cum.”
And when you finally did, when you cried out and your body tensed beneath him, he held you through it, his own breath ragged, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let you go.
He didn’t pull away right away—just kissed you through it, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. Soon, you felt the rush of his cum filling you up and his soft moans in your ear.
“Mine,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re mine.”
In-ho never just left you after. That wasn’t who he was.
No matter how intense things got, no matter how desperate or needy, he always made sure to take care of you after.
Tonight was no different.
He pressed a kiss to your temple before slipping away, only to return moments later with a warm cloth. He handled you carefully, murmuring soft praises as he cleaned you up, whispering apologies when you flinched from sensitivity. His touch was steady, so unlike the man who ran the most brutal game in existence. With you, he was different.
“You okay, baby?” he asked, running a hand down your thigh as he finished.
You nodded sleepily, reaching for him. “Mhm.”
That was all he needed to hear. He tossed the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, shifting until you were resting on his chest, his fingers tracing circles into your skin.
“I’ll prove myself to you every day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be here for you.”
You hummed in response, half asleep against him, but he knew you heard him.
That was something about In-ho, you knew this arrangement was transactional, but there was something deeply intimate in the way he held you after, in the way he needed to keep you close, like he was afraid you’d slip away in the night.
Even now, his grip on you was firm.
“You’re so good to me,” you mumbled, fingertips skimming his jaw.
“You deserve it,” he murmured, eyes half lidded as he looked down at you. “And more.”
He held you like that for the rest of the night, whispering sweet nothings, pressing lazy kisses to your hair. You didn’t need to say it out loud, but you both knew, no matter how complicated things were, he wasn’t letting you go.
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scorpioriesling · 2 days ago
Note
omg hey would you please do a bodhi or garrick smut i love your writing
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The Sting of Jealousy
・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Bodhi x reader
Kink(s): 18+, mdni, smut
Summary: This is shorter but that’s a-okay; it’s nearly porn without plot, ok? I’ve been writing so much smut lately to prepare for Kinktober — but, this one needed to be published asap. (; Who doesn’t love jealous Bodhi?
SR’s Note: I’ve never written for Garrick sooo I’ll absolutely be taking you up on Bodhi smut because well I love him I’m sorry (i’m not) + tysm for the compliment!! omg
Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)
・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
“Bodhi…”
His name slips from your lips in a quiet whisper, the sentence dying on your tongue as he kisses up your neck. The light from the dorm room lamp winks out as your eyes flutter closed, the pure ecstasy flowing through your every vein as your boyfriend’s hands continue to wander.
“What’s that, baby?” He coos, feeling rather satisfied with the way he’s pleasuring you. You squint, your gaze taking over every rippling muscle in his back as his lips kiss across your chest more forcefully. You squirm beneath him, his fingers slowly tracing down your exposed stomach and nearing the apex of your thighs.
“I… oh,” You suck in a breath as his middle finger finds your clit, rubbing lightly over the bundle of nerves. He chuckles, low and deep before placing a kiss just beneath your ear.
“Pretty girl,” he mumbles, his fingers slowly moving towards your awaiting core. He slips his middle and ring finger inside, pumping them slowly as you continue to huff beneath him.
“Bodhi… please,” you beg, but he continues to kiss your neck. Air escapes your lungs when you feel his teeth against your neck, biting and sucking softly as he continues to work his fingers into you.
“P-please… oh Gods,” you pant, and he pulls back with a satisfied smirk.
“There,” he says, his fingers slowly slipping out of you. “Now there’s no question who you belong to.”
Another heat wave washes over you — Bodhi was hot, but jealous Bodhi?
Let’s just say you didn’t exactly stop Ridoc’s playful flirting today at training.
“I don’t think it was ever a question-“ you’re cut off as your boyfriend stands, yanking you to the edge of the bed in one swift motion. You squeak as his hand connects with the underside of your ass, his fingers still wet with your arousal.
“You’re right. It wasn’t.” He tosses your legs over his shoulders, baring your aching core to him. His cock is in his hand in seconds, your slick smearing over it a few times before he aligns himself with you.
And slams inside.
“BODHI-“
“You’ll just have to learn the hard way,” he tuts, his fingers wrapping around your throat. He leans in, pulling his dick out of you and thrusting it back in.
“Very, hard way.”
You gasp, the sudden full feeling of his big cock inside of you cooking the band in your lower belly. He continues driving into you, and you struggle to keep quiet.
“B-baby, I… I t-told you Ridoc’s just a friend-“
His hand releases your throat, opting to splay along your jaw instead. A tortured horny expression crosses his face as he stares down at you, his thumb slipping between your lips.
“Don’t ever say another man’s name while I’m fucking you,” he growls, his hips snapping harder against your ass. “If he’s such a good friend, why was he eye-fucking my girlfriend today then, huh?”
You moan, his irritation only turning you on. Bodhi hated when other men flirted with you — so much he could barely control himself sometimes. Today, on the training mat; well, that was certainly no exception.
He grunts as he fucks his long cock into you, his gaze fixated on your bared breasts as they bounce with each minstration. His mouth drops open slightly, a few brown curls falling to his tanned forehead.
You suck, bringing his attention back to your lips. He retracts his finger, and you immediately open your mouth and stick your tongue out flat.
Immediately he groans as his bottom lip catches between his teeth; you knew that move would get him.
“So fucking hot, baby,” he praises, his fingers lovingly tracing along your jawline as his thrusts grow sloppy. You reach down, your fingers playing with your cliff as he nears the edge of release.
“Gods… you’re… oh fuck,” he sighs, watching your stomach muscles tighten with the added friction. The coil, red hot inside you, threatens to snap.
“Bodhi… you’re gonna make me cum,” you whine, gazing up at him with your big doe-eyes. He grunts in pleasure, wrapping his hands around your thighs as he thrusts into you a few final times.
He gasps, his cock twitching against your velvety walls as he releases his cum inside of you. This was the final push you’d needed, as you clench around him, milking his dick for all he’s got.
You cry out in pleasure, slightly trembling as your orgasm rolls through you. He pants, his fingers tracing up and down your thighs as he watches you come down from your high. Only catching your breath for a moment, he pulls out — the sudden emptiness bringing a pout to your lips.
He leans over, kissing your lips with all the love he has for you. When he pulls back, you can only grin at him. Your boyfriend— only yours.
“You just remember that next time another guy sets his sights on you.”
✧・゚: *
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mononijikayu · 2 days ago
Text
don’t they know it's the end of the world (cause you don’t love me anymore) — geto suguru.
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You blinked, the knot in your chest tightening as you took in his face, his solemn expression that didn’t match the usual carefree look he wore. Was he already saying goodbye in some way? You shook your head slowly, the smile coming to your lips, though it carried a mixture of sadness and certainty. "Sugu, how could you even think about that?… I could never forget about you."  “It can happen, you know. Life happens.” He smiles in a small timid manner.   Your voice was soft, but there was no doubt in it. "No, you’re wrong. You’re the most important person in my life. How could I forget someone like you?"
GENRE: alternate universe - canon divergence;
WARNING/S: gen, afab! reader, angst, fluff, friendship, friends to lovers, eventual romance, slice of life, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, sad ending, physical touch, pet names (sugu, buttercup) mentioned character death, depression, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, internal conflict, post-hidden inventory at the end, letting go, break up, meeting each other again, depiction of childhood, depiction of romance, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, depiction of depression, mention of internal conflict, non! sorcerer reader, sorcerer! suguru;
WORD COUNT: 10k words
NOTE: im soon back at university, so im rush writing everything and so im exhausted all the time too. so if im not updating, its because im probably regretting my life decisions. though, in any case, i will still publish as much as i can. im about two/three finished with valentines fics, but im tortured by sukuna because i have a standard with him and i can't escape it. anyway, i wrote this for suguru's birthday. he would have been thirty-five today!!! i hope you enjoy this fic!!! i love you all!!! see you on the sixth!!! <3
main masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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IF YOU COULD DESCRIBE WONDER, IT WOULD BE BEING BY SUGURU’S SIDE. No one else could understand it, you like to think. What the two of you had, it was certainly a language made for two. It was a life that was built for the purpose of being known by you both. And you like to think that he feels the same way too.
You and Suguru had been together since you were kids, bound by an unspoken connection that neither of you ever questioned. Because, there was nothing to question about it. Nor could words even describe it all. It was too unique, too intriguing. And yet, it only belonged to the two of you.
It all started on a warm afternoon at the school playground, where laughter and shrieks filled the air as children ran around in endless games of tag. It was a long while ago, and yet it felt like yesterday to you. You could feel your eyes twitching as you watched from where you stood, permeating with desire and anxiety. 
You had been standing alone for a while, just a bit near the jungle gym, watching all the kids giggle and run about, with the zeal of youth dashing along with them.
As you watched them there with eager eyes, you kept wishing you could join in too, you wished you could run amok with joy too. But that heavy weight of fear blossoms your hesitation. It held you back from a lot of things, including making friends.
Yet, why wouldn’t you feel like this? You were new in town, and you didn’t know these kids. You didn't know any life lived in this place before you had come. Everything was new for you, as much as you were sure it would also be new to them. 
How would they even react to you, knowing you aren’t a familiar face they were already comfortable seeing? How would you interact with them, anyway? It’s not like you could just jump in and smile and just jump in easily? This is a sea and if you plunge so deep, you could drown. And you didn’t want that to happen. Not here, not when you were starting a new life. 
But then, that’s when he found you.
"Why are you just standing here?" a voice asked.
You turned to see a boy with dark hair, a little messy from running around, and warm, curious eyes. He wasn’t out of breath, despite the wild chase of tag that had just ended. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his tiny shorts, and he looked at you like he was trying to figure you out.
"I….I don’t know how to approach them." you muttered, kicking at a loose pebble. "I’m not sure how to come and tell them I want to play too, so I….."
Suguru blinked, then without hesitation, he grinned and reached out a hand to you. "I see…..Then let’s play together! I don’t care if you’re slow. I’ll just run at your speed, if that would make it easier on you."
Your eyes swiftly widened, surprised by the easy kindness in his voice. "Really?"
"Yeah!" he said enthusiastically. "I’ll even let you tag me first."
That was the beginning of everything, that was certain.
During recess, the world belonged to just the two of you. You ran hand in hand across the playground, unbothered by who was faster or slower. You hummed little tunes under your breath, and he giggled at the way you always skipped a step ahead before doubling back to him. You hopped, he ran, and sometimes, in the joy of it all, you tripped over each other’s feet and tumbled into the dirt.
And if one of you scraped a knee? The other sat down beside them without hesitation. If you fell, Suguru would plop down next to you, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I’m not playing if you’re not playing. That’s just how it is!
And you would do the same for him, because what was the fun in anything if he wasn’t right there beside you?
Nothing was ever quite complete without each other.
It wasn’t a good day unless you were together.
Even as you grew older, nothing changed.
The playground turned into quiet walks home, but your hands still found each other without thinking.
"You still hold my hand like we’re kids, Sugu," you teased one afternoon, fingers laced together as you walked home. The sun hung low in the sky, spilling warm golden light over the quiet street. Your shadows stretched long behind you, linked together like a promise.
Suguru glanced down at your hands, his grip tightening just slightly. "Yeah? You don’t like it?"
You smiled, squeezing back. "I never said that, you know!"
His grin was soft but sure, a mirror of the way he had always been with you. "Good. Because you’re still my favorite person."
And really, wasn’t that all that mattered?
══════════════════
IF YOUR BIRTHDAY COULD BE A HOLIDAY, SUGURU WOULD MAKE SURE OF IT. Your birthday has always been special, you know that much. But now more than ever, especially because, for as long as you could remember, Geto Suguru had been by your side for most of it. Now, it was even more special than before. 
The years blurred together in a collage of memories: the laughter, the excitement, the simple moments that felt so big when they were shared with him. There were so many pictures, pictures of the two of you, year after year.
You were always together. His presence in every single one, a steady anchor through the passing time. One that was the only constant throughout the world that keeps on changing.
Whether it was the early mornings, when you both rushed around the house, throwing together last-minute gifts for each other in the midst of the chaos of birthday preparations, or the quiet evenings spent chatting under the stars, those moments were always colored by Suguru’s unique way of making everything feel more important. 
He never treated your birthday like just another day. To him, it was an event, something that deserved to be celebrated with the utmost care. After all, it was the day you were born—the day you were with him. And to Suguru, that meant the world.
He didn’t just show up for your birthday. 
No, he took it as seriously as he would a test. 
He planned it meticulously, down to the smallest detail, as though the day had to be perfect.
"I thought you might like this, buttercup!" he’d say with a grin, always just a little too proud of whatever thoughtful gift he managed to get you, even if you’d both picked it out together the day before. "I’m pretty sure you’ll love it." 
And every time, no matter how simple the gift, the thought behind it always felt like the most meaningful gesture.
On your birthday mornings, you’d wake up to the smell of something delicious.  The pancakes, bacon, whatever it was that he knew you’d love, always cooked with that special touch that made it taste even better. He would rush in, hands full of wrapped presents, bright eyes sparkling like a child eager to see your reaction. 
"You ready?" he’d ask, bouncing on his heels.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight— Geto Suguru, the one who always had his life together, who always so composed, turned into a ball of excitement for just one day.
Even in the evenings, as the day began to fade and the sky turned dark, you would find yourselves sitting together outside, wrapped in blankets under the stars. He’d listen to you talk about the year that had passed, what had changed, what had stayed the same while you both sat in comfortable silence, the kind only the two of you shared.
"Make a wish, okay?" he’d say when it was time to blow out the candles, the way he’d always said it every year. But there was something about the way he said it then, with that little smile on his face, as if he already knew your wish without needing to hear it.
Suguru didn’t need grand gestures. For him, it was always about the little things, the way he made sure your favorite song was playing when you entered the room, the way he’d insist on carrying your cake even though it was ridiculously heavy, the way he refused to let anyone else help you with the birthday prep, because it was his job to make sure everything was just right for you.
And he didn’t think it was just about the day itself. To Suguru, your birthday wasn’t just a celebration of your life; it was a reminder that you existed, that you were here, and that the world—his world—was just a little bit brighter because you were in it.
Every year, as he gave you your gift, no matter how big or small, you could always see that gleam in his eyes. The beautiful gleam that said. "This is important. This is you, this is us, and I’m going to make sure you feel special, because you are."
For Suguru, your birthday wasn’t just another day in the calendar. It was the day you were born—his day to remind you just how much you meant to him, and to celebrate the fact that, all these years later, you were still by his side. 
And when you looked back at all the memories, all those years of birthdays spent with him, you couldn’t help but smile. They weren’t just your birthdays, they were his to celebrate too.
He celebrated them just as fiercely, just as passionately, as if it were his own day to remember. Because, to Suguru, every birthday spent together was a blessing. And he never took that for granted.
But this year, it felt different.
Not because of the cake or the candles. Not because of the way your friends sang off-key, their voices melding into a perfect disaster. No, this year was different because, when the party had quieted down and the night was winding to a close, Suguru handed you a small, neatly wrapped box.
He was sitting beside you on the couch, his beautiful lilac eyes watching you closely as you held the box in your hands, the soft rustle of paper the only sound between you. You could only look at the beautiful box in front of you for the longest time. He clears his throat.
“Are you really not saying anything?”
You looked at him suspiciously, fingers hesitating over the ribbon. "You didn’t have to get me anything, Sugu."
"I wanted to, buttercup." he said simply, nudging the box closer. "Go on, open it."
So you did.
Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, the light catching on the fine chain, making it shimmer. But what caught your attention was the tiny charm hanging from it—a miniature book, small enough to rest in the center of your palm, its metal etched with tiny details that made it look like it had real pages inside.
You blinked up at him, surprise evident in your expression. "Sugu…"
He looked uncharacteristically shy, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s nothing fancy, but… I thought it’d be nice. Y’know, for us."
"For us?" you repeated, tracing your fingers over the book charm.
Suguru nodded, watching your reaction closely. "Yeah. Because we always read together. Because of all those afternoons spent sharing a book, arguing over who gets to turn the page first—"
"You always turn the page too fast, you know." you interrupted with a pout.
"And you always get distracted by random things in the margins, buttercup." he shot back, smirking. “We’re both not good at it.”
You huffed. "That’s called appreciating the details, Suguru."
"Sure, sure." he laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, that’s the first one."
You tilted your head. "First?"
He reached over, taking your wrist gently in his hands as he fastened the bracelet around it, his touch careful, warm. "Every birthday from now on, I’m giving you a charm. One for each year. Something that means something to us."
Your breath caught for a moment.
"You’re serious?" you asked, looking up at him.
Suguru met your gaze, his expression unwavering. "Completely." Then, with a lopsided grin, he added. "You’re stuck with me for a long time, you know."
You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. Everything about you just felt warm, especially when you looked at it, knowing he put a lot of thought on this beautiful present. The bracelet felt light on your wrist, but the promise it carried felt heavier. This was solid, real, unshakable. Just like your relationship with him, ironclad for all your lives.
"Good." you said, squeezing his hand before letting go. "Because I wouldn’t want it any other way."
And back then, with Geto Suguru beside you, his promise wrapped around your wrist and his warmth wrapped around your heart, you believed it.
You really, really did.
══════════════════
ALL BIRTHDAYS ARE HAPPY, WELL THEY SHOULD BE. But this morning, this birthday of yours, it was not something that just truly felt odd. You had tried to put it off, knowing that it wasn’t the right place or time to talk about it. You could feel it, you know you do. Something was wrong with your best friend. 
Geto Suguru had been unusually quiet all day, even when he was trying to be casual and jolly, smiling at you. But you knew there was something going on and you couldn't put your finger on why. The excitement of the day had dulled a little, as the two of you moved through the motions of cake and presents, but something in the air felt different.
It wasn’t until later that afternoon when everything changed.
You had walked him to the train station, like you always did, ever since he moved to another part of the city. Though this time, there was an unspoken weight that drowned between you, a heaviness that neither of you could shake. Geto Suguru, usually so confident and carefree, seemed distant, his usual smile a little more strained.
"I got in." he said, as the train pulled up to the station, his voice barely above a whisper, yet somehow carrying the weight of his words.
You paused, unsure of what he meant at first. "Got in?"
He nodded, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment before meeting your gaze. "To Jujutsu High School. I’m going to Tokyo."
Your heart skipped, the reality of the situation sinking in like ice water. 
He was going to leave you, you were going to be separated. 
Your Suguru was heading to Tokyo to train, on the other side of your world.
For the first time in years, you wouldn’t be by each other’s side every day. The thought was almost impossible to process. Not when you had been together for so long, just being bubbles in each other’s circle. Your lips parted, you wanted to say something. But you didn’t know what. You were too stunned to speak. 
"Wait, you’re leaving? When?" you whispered, your voice suddenly became small. 
“Tomorrow.” He whispered, his tone almost blossoming with shame. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t….I didn’t want to ruin the time and I didn't think it was going to come any time soon, but it just….”
"But… but today’s my birthday, Sugu."
Suguru gave you a sad smile, his hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. "I know. I’m sorry. But it’s not goodbye forever, okay? We’ll keep in touch, I promise."
You nodded, but the lump in your throat made it hard to speak. Suguru was your rock, your constant. The thought of him being so far away, in a completely different city, felt like the world was shifting beneath your feet.
He took a step closer to you, lowering his voice. "I didn’t want to leave without giving you something special." He pulled out a small box from his pocket, holding it out to you. 
You took it from his warm hands, your eyes brimming with questions. When you opened it, a soft gasp escaped your lips. Inside was a new charm for your bracelet—a delicate purple colored buttercup, its petals etched with such fine detail that it looked almost real. It was beautiful. And soulful. Almost glistening as brightly as his eyes.
He smiled gently, a warmth in his eyes as he slipped the charm onto your bracelet. "It’s a buttercup," he said softly. "My nickname for you. So I thought…I thought it would be perfect."
You stared at the charm for a moment, the lump in your throat thickening. "You still call me that…"
Suguru’s smile grew tender. "Always will. And whenever you look at it, I want you to think of me, okay? Think of me often."
You blinked away the tears threatening to spill and smiled back at him. "I will, Sugu. I promise."
He pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close for just a moment longer than usual. "Take care of yourself, alright? And don’t forget—I’m just a train ride away. Osaka is not that far. So when you need me, call me. Okay?"
“Okay.” You squeezed him back, trying to imprint the moment into your memory, trying to hold onto the feeling of him next to you. "I won’t forget. I’ll think of you every day."
Suguru pulled away slowly, his fingers brushing the side of your face. "I know you will."
The train’s loud engine roared to brutish life, and the sound of the wheels on the tracks made your chest tighten even further. You watched Suguru stand by the window.
His beautiful face illuminated by the soft afternoon light as the train slowly started to pull away. Your feet felt rooted to the ground, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, things you didn’t know how to say.
But before you could stop yourself, something inside you snapped. You took a step forward, then another, and then you were running, your heart pounding heavily in your chest, your breath coming faster as you pushed yourself harder, faster, chasing the train like you could somehow outrun the fear that gripped your heart.
"Suguru!" you called out, your voice shaking, but loud enough for him to hear.
He turned around in surprise, his eyes wide as he saw you running toward him. The train was moving faster now, but he didn’t hesitate. You could see how his face lit up with a mix of disbelief and hope, his hand pressed against the window.
"Sugu!" you shouted again, your heart racing even harder, your legs moving as if they had a will of their own. The distance between you seemed so large, but you weren’t going to stop.
He leaned closer to the window, his hand now reaching out, as if trying to touch you through the glass. You could see the concern on his face, his bright lilac eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but it made you move faster, faster than you thought you could.
When you finally reached the side of the train, you stopped just short of losing your breath. You pressed your hands to your chest, feeling your heart pounding, and you looked up at him, eyes shining.
"I love you, Suguru!" you blurted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Geto Suguru froze, his eyes wide in astonishment, as though he hadn’t expected you to say it—that particular thing, not now, not like this. You watched him, your heart hanging in the air between you, waiting for his reaction, wondering if you had made a mistake.
But then, his expression softened, and a smile broke through the surprise. It wasn’t just a smile you see. It was his smile, that beautiful smile that only belonged to you. The one that made everything feel like it would be okay, no matter what. He nodded slowly, a little chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned closer to the window, as if pulling you in even from a distance.
"I love you too, buttercup!" he said, his voice full of warmth, his eyes soft but certain.
And just like that, everything that had felt so heavy was lifted, the weight of the unspoken tension, the distance between you, all of it faded into the background of that moment. You smiled back at him, breathless but relieved, and the world around you seemed to slow down.
The train started to pick up speed again, and Suguru gave you one last look, his smile still lingering as he waved.
"Take care of yourself, okay?" he called out, his voice carrying over the noise of the train.
"I will!" you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "I’ll always think of you."
And with that, the train pulled away, leaving you standing there, heart full, the buttercup charm on your bracelet gleaming softly in the fading light. 
That train carried your heart with him.
But you were sure that you held his heart here too.
You looked at your buttercup charm, smiling.
“Come back to me soon, okay?”
══════════════════
THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT HOW MUCH HE HAD CHANGED. And all he could do was wish that you didn’t see it, that you would never find out the truth. All he could pray for was that you didn’t notice the light in his eyes dying or the bitterness of the taste from the curses he was forced to consume still on his tongue.  
Geto Suguru has always been a powerful force of nature, a rock withstanding everything in his way. In a way, he was also your rock, your steady presence in your life. No matter what was happening around him, he was there, unwavering, holding everything together with that quiet strength of his. 
But recently, something in him had started to shift. Something he wasn’t prepared to admit to just yet. Ever since Amanai Riko’s death, the change had been subtle at first, there were those small signs that he was struggling, pulling away just a little more each day. But now, as the days passed, it became harder to ignore.
Geto Suguru was slipping.
And he didn’t know how to stop it.
He didn’t know how to be more than this.
He didn’t know the way out of it.
He found himself lost in a fog of thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate, his emotions tangled in a web he couldn't find a way out of. The burden of loss weighed heavily on him, crushing him in ways he didn’t know how to handle. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let you see it. Not today. Not on your birthday. Not on your last day together.
He had made it a point, from the moment you walked into the room, to be the Suguru you knew. He plastered on that familiar smile, spoke to you like everything was fine, and made sure the day went on like any other. 
But the moment you looked away, or when you laughed, or when he caught you looking at him with that softness in your eyes, a heaviness settled deep in his chest. He wanted to say something, to tell you what was really happening, but the words felt like they were caught in his throat, unable to escape.
You had no idea what he was battling inside.
And he couldn’t bear to burden you with it—not on your special day.
It was the evening, the sun sinking low in the sky, and you both sat together on the balcony of his apartment, watching the colors in the sky shift from gold to deep blue. The breeze was warm, and you had your head resting on his shoulder, the same way you had for years. You both sat there in a comfortable silence, but Suguru’s mind was anywhere but there.
"I’m really glad we could spend the day together, Sugu." you said softly, your voice like a melody that brought him back to the present. “Thank you for coming to visit me, even with your busy schedule.”
Suguru nodded, his smile barely there as he kept his gaze on the horizon, afraid if he looked at you too long, you would see the cracks he was trying to hide. "Me too, buttercup." he said, but even to his own ears, the words didn’t sound right. They didn’t carry the weight they should have.
You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, the way he wasn’t fully present. He wasn’t the Geto Suguru you knew, the Sugu who would always make you laugh, who would hold you close and whisper silly things to keep your spirits high. He was distant, almost like a shadow of himself. And you knew he hated it, even without saying it to you.
"Sugu." you said quietly, sitting up to look at him, your hand gently touching his arm. "You okay?"
Suguru flinched, the question catching him off guard. He gave a small, forced laugh, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess. I’ve….been very busy."
But you didn’t buy it. You knew him better than anyone else, and you could see the lie in his eyes. But he wasn’t ready to talk, not now, not on the day that was meant to be yours, not on the day that he wanted to protect you from his own chaos. He didn’t want you to see him like this, not when everything was supposed to be perfect.
He wanted to be strong for you, wanted to be the Geto Suguru you deserved, the Geto Suguru that you love, the Geto Suguru you knew. But the weight of the world felt like it was crushing him from the inside, and he didn’t know how to hold it together anymore. 
You reached up to touch his cheek, the gesture so simple but full of the warmth you had always shared. "Sugu… you don’t have to hide from me. Not now. Not ever."
He froze at your touch, his lilac eyes shutting softly, even for just a brief second. He wanted to let it all go, wanted to break down in front of you, but he couldn’t. Not like this. Not today. He swallowed hard, the words choking him before he could even say them.
"I’m fine." he repeated, but there was no conviction in his voice. “Really, buttercup. Don’t worry so much about me, okay?”
You didn’t push him further, but the sadness in his once bright eyes told you everything you needed to know. He was breaking inside, but he didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want to talk about it just yet. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. And especially not on your last day together.
"Okay." you whispered softly, leaning back against his shoulder once more, both of you falling into silence again.
But Geto Suguru knew. He knew that you would always see through him. And as you sat there, so close, yet so far from what was really happening, he couldn’t help but feel like he was losing grip on everything. He thought he was losing himself, you, on the life you had dreamed of sharing.
And so, the night passed in a quiet sadness, Suguru’s heart heavy with emotions he couldn’t quite express. Tomorrow, he will leave. Tomorrow, everything will change. He knew that all too well. By sunrise, you wouldn’t recognize him anymore. By sunrise, he wouldn’t be your Sugu anymore. 
But for tonight, he would hold onto this—hold onto you, and pretend that everything was okay, just for a little while longer. He thinks he could pretend one last time and keep you with him, enjoying the need of warmth that only you could understand.
The evening air was still, the world outside quieting as the stars began to prick the darkening sky. You sat together for a little while, as you waited for the train to come. Geto Suguru’s silence was heavy, but there was a soft, almost palpable tenderness in the way he was beside you. It was always that way, when he was beside you. Even when you were kids.
But the silence was a new thing. This silence was so loud, and yet so deafening. Yet you also didn’t bridge the gap. At least not tonight. He didn’t need it right now and you can tell. You just took a deep breath and waited, staring off the train tracks. 
Your Suguru seemed lost in his own thoughts, his calloused fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the railing in front of you, his lilac gaze ever so lost in the faraway space. To the place you could not follow.
But you knew it was just his way of trying to hold everything in. Then, after a moment that felt like eternity, he broke the quiet, his voice soft but steady, like he was trying to make it sound casual when it wasn’t. 
"I got you something, buttercup." he said, his hand reaching into his pocket. You looked up at him, noticing the faintest tremor in his fingers, but you didn't comment on it.
He pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box, offering it to you with a look that was a mix of hesitation and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words. "I know it’s not much, but I wanted to give you something… meaningful. Like always."
You took the box from him, your little heart fluttering a little in anticipation, not knowing what to expect. Slowly, you unwrapped it with much care, your tender fingers gently peeling back the layers until you saw what was inside.
It was a charm, delicate and beautiful, with a tiny forget-me-not flower carved into its surface. The petals were soft, yet detailed, their edges just slightly raised as if to give them life, to make them feel real. The forget-me-not. It was simple but meaningful, and somehow, it felt like it held everything unsaid between you two in one small, fragile flower.
Suguru’s voice broke the moment, barely above a whisper, but heavy with emotion. "I want you to always remember me, buttercup." he said, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t place. "No matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, never forget about me."
You froze for a heartbeat, confusion washing over you at his words. Never forget about him?
The thought didn’t make sense. Geto Suguru was more than just a memory; he was the person who had shaped so much of your life, the one who had been there for you through everything. He was your everything. How could you forget him?
You blinked, the knot in your chest tightening as you took in his face, his solemn expression that didn’t match the usual carefree look he wore. Was he already saying goodbye in some way?
You shook your head slowly, the smile coming to your lips, though it carried a mixture of sadness and certainty. "Sugu, how could you even think about that?… I could never forget about you." 
“It can happen, you know. Life happens.” He smiles in a small timid manner.  
Your voice was soft, but there was no doubt in it. "No, you’re wrong. You’re the most important person in my life. How could I forget someone like you?"
Suguru’s lilac eyes softened at your words, the weight of the moment easing just a little as you spoke. His chapped lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something more, but he only let out a quiet, relieved breath, his shoulders relaxing for the first time that evening.
He reached out, gently placing the forget-me-not charm on your bracelet, his fingers lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. "I just… I need to know you’ll always remember. Even when we’re apart.”
"I will, I promise." you said, your voice firm, the sincerity in your words reaching the deepest parts of him. "I’ll always think of you. Every single day, every single hour. Even the seconds. I’ll always remember you, Suguru. You’re too important to forget."
“Is that so?”
You hummed, smiling at him. “Hm. Because I love you.”
For a brief, tender moment, Suguru’s eyes seemed to shine with something that wasn’t just sadness but relief. It was as if the weight of the unspoken fears, the guilt, and the pain he’d been carrying had finally started to lift, just a little. He smiled, a real, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes.
"Good," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "That’s all I need to hear."
And there, under the stars, with the sound of the world fading into a quiet lull, you both sat together. You didn’t need words to fill the silence that had settled between you. The charm on your bracelet was a promise, a symbol of everything you had been through, everything you had shared, and everything that was still to come.
"I love you too, buttercup." Suguru whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but the words carried so much weight, so much meaning that it felt like the whole world had shifted in that instant.
You didn’t hesitate, not for a second. "I know, Sugu. I know." you replied, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips, a smile that only he could make appear. 
It was a statement, but one that wasn’t born out of arrogance. It was the truth. The truth that had been there all along, between the quiet moments, the shared laughter, the years of growing together. He was your constant, just as you were his.
And you had always known, known in the very marrow of your bones.
he loved you too. More than anything in life. More than the universe could know.
Suguru didn’t immediately respond. He simply stared at you, his gaze softening with an intensity that almost made it hard to breathe. He shifted closer, his hands rising slowly, as if afraid that if he moved too fast, you would vanish in an instant. His fingers brushed against the curve of your jaw before they settled on your cheeks, warm and grounding.
His touch was gentle, the weight of his hands steady against your skin, as though he was afraid to touch you too hard, afraid that any sudden movement would make you slip through his fingers.
His gaze never wavered from your face, and for a long moment, it was like the world faded away. There was nothing but the two of you, him, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his presence, and you, feeling like the universe had shrunk to this moment.
Suguru’s eyes searched for yours, his expression both tender and filled with something deeper, something that only someone who had loved you for so long could understand. It was as though he was memorizing every detail of you.
The way the light caught in your eyes, the curve of your lips, the soft flutter of your lashes when you blinked. He took in your features like he was afraid they would slip away, like time was running out and he couldn’t afford to miss a single second of it.
His thumb traced the outline of your cheekbone, the movement so soft it almost tickled, but it was full of reverence. As if you were something sacred to him, something irreplaceable. As if you were the most important pearl of the world, shining in front of him, making him your sea. 
"You’re so beautiful, buttercup." he whispered, and the words held so much more than just a compliment. It was the way he said them, as if he had seen every side of you—your strengths, your flaws, your heart—and still, in every corner of it, you were beautiful to him. 
The simplicity of the words took your breath away, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You just looked at him, feeling the weight of his love like a gentle embrace, like it wrapped around your heart, holding it safe in his hands.
You didn’t need to speak to feel the truth of it all. This moment, this space between you, felt like the entire universe had conspired to bring you to this point, where everything you had shared and everything you had yet to share hung in the balance of this silent exchange.
Suguru leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the way his body was still, but there was a pulse of something deep inside him, something he wasn’t fully ready to let go of, not yet. And in that breathless, delicate space, you let your own heart speak.
"I love you, Sugu." you whispered back, your voice trembling just slightly, but filled with a certainty that made everything else fade into the background.
His hands cupped your face a little tighter, his thumbs stroking the soft skin of your cheeks as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world. "I’ll never forget you, buttercup." he murmured, almost as if he was saying it to himself, but you heard it. “You’re everything I am. Everything I breathe.”
The weight of it hung in the air, and though his words were bittersweet, you felt a flicker of hope in them.
"I’ll never forget you either." you whispered, your voice steady and sure, despite the turmoil swirling within you.
Because you knew that no matter where life took you both, Suguru would always be a part of you. No amount of time or distance could change that. “You’re my everything too.”
You leaned into his touch, your foreheads pressing gently together, the warmth of his hands grounding you both in the moment. His lilac eyes closed for a beat, a soft sigh escaping him as if he, too, was trying to hold on to this feeling, trying to commit it to memory just as you were.
And for that brief moment, there was no goodbye. There was only the now, the shared stillness, the love between you both, wrapped up in the quiet understanding that no matter what happened, you would always carry each other with you.
He moved his face closer, his lips brushing softly against your forehead. The kiss was light, like a promise, a silent vow that this love, this sacred bond between the two of you, it would never truly be broken, no matter the miles between you.
Suguru’s lips linger on your forehead for a moment longer, a soft, lingering warmth that makes everything else feel distant, as if time had slowed down just for the two of you.
The world outside the station, the sound of the train tracks, the noises of the city, the ticking of the clock, everything seemed muted, fading into the background as you both existed in this fragile, perfect bubble of quiet.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but laden with an unspoken weight. He looked like he wanted to say something more, something important, but the words never quite formed. 
Instead, he just studied your face, as if he was trying to memorize everything about you. Every little memory of you, your bright expression, the way your long hair fell around your face, the way your eyes held a kindness that had always been there, even in the most difficult of times.
“I’ll miss you.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, a subtle crack breaking through the calm facade he’d been trying so hard to maintain.
You nodded, your heart aching as his words sank in. The truth was, you would miss him too, more than you could ever put into words. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like without him so close, without his constant presence to steady you.
The thought of the distance between you both made the space around you feel colder, as though the warmth of his touch was already slipping through your fingers.
“I’ll miss you too, Sugu. More than you know.” you whispered back, the truth of it making your voice tremble just slightly.
He smiled, a sad, bittersweet thing, his thumb tracing the outline of your jaw once more, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment.
"Just remember, buttercup." he murmured, his eyes soft but intense. "No matter where we are, no matter how far apart we get, I’ll always be with you. I’ll always be there, in everything we’ve shared."
"I know." you said, nodding again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And I’ll always carry a piece of you with me. In my heart.”
Geto Suguru’s breath caught at your words, his eyes glistening as if he wanted to say something more, but the emotion was too much, too overwhelming. Instead, he just leaned in and kissed your forehead once more, gentle but full of all the feelings he couldn’t quite express.
“I’ll be waiting, buttercup.” he whispered, his voice low, but there was a fierce determination behind it. “No matter how long it takes. I’ll be waiting for you.”
You looked up at him, your heart full, eyes brimming with something that could have been tears if you let it. You didn’t speak for a moment, just held his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle into you like a warm, comforting blanket.
Finally, you smiled through the lump in your throat, the quiet sadness blending with something softer, something hopeful. "I’ll come back to you, Sugu. I promise. So come back to me too, okay?"
The words hung between you, a promise sealed in the silence that followed. 
He can’t promise something like that to you, not like this now. 
By sunrise, he can no longer come back to you, never again.
And yet, he still does, he lets this promise be unfulfilled.
He lets this moment be a little white lie to keep your smile.
Suguru nodded, a small, hopeful smile on his lips, but his eyes, those dark, familiar eyes, held a quiet ache. He didn’t say anything else, just stayed close, his hand still on your cheek, his presence steady even though the moment was winding down. The night was still, and it felt like time was slipping away too fast.
“I should go, buttercup.” Suguru said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "But I’ll see you again, right? You’ll visit me when you can, won’t you?"
You nodded, already knowing how much this meant to him. You smiled tenderly at him, you smiled at him like you loved him. You smiled at him like he deserves to have it. And yet he doesn’t. The devil does not deserve such a thing.
"Of course I will." you reassured him, reaching up to touch his hand, the one that had stayed on your cheek. "I won’t let you forget about me."
His smile grew just a little, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a glimmer of peace in his eyes. "I could never forget about you."
And with that, he gave you one last kiss on the forehead, light and full of everything unsaid, full of everything you would carry with you in your heart. He pulled back slowly, his hand slipping from your cheek to your hand.
His fingers lingering for a moment longer, as though reluctant to let go. Then, with a final, lingering look, he turned and made his way toward the door. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want this to be the last time. But he had to. He had to go.
He let himself step into it, the door closing softly behind him. For a moment, you felt the weight of the world shift. The quiet that followed his departure felt louder than any noise, and yet, somehow, you knew you’d be okay. You’d carry him with you, just like you promised.
The night grew darker, but the small forget-me-not charm on your bracelet caught the light, reminding you of everything you had shared. It was more than just a memory, it was a piece of him that you could hold on to, no matter where life took you both.
Geto Suguru was always going to be a part of you. And no matter the distance, no matter how much time passed, you would never forget him. He was the most important part of your life, and that would never change.
Two days later, you got the call.
He had gone missing, his parents were gone.
And you?
You had lost the love of your life.
That was his goodbye.
══════════════════
epilogue
A LONG TIME HAD COME AND GONE, BUT IT STILL FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY. Seven years had passed since Geto Suguru’s defection from the jujutsu society, since the time he turned away from everything he once held dear. Time had blurred the edges of the past for everyone except him. 
He had tried to move on, he knew he had to. He had all but tried to bury his memories deep enough so that they no longer haunted him. But there were days when everything came rushing back to him.
The horror on his parents faces that night, their deaths at his own hands, the ones he had betrayed, the village consumed by blue flame. And then there was you, the love he had lost and left. The one he had let go and fly away.
From the shadows, Suguru watched you kneel before the graves, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet cemetery. You were gentle with the flowers, your movements soft as you arranged the bouquets on the gravestones, your fingers careful as they brushed away the dust that had accumulated over time. 
He had never imagined, in his darkest moments, that he would see you here—so close, yet so far away from everything he had become. But there you were, tending to the graves of the parents he had killed, as if it was something he had never been able to do. You were doing it for him, in a way, even though you didn’t have to.
He had heard the stories about it all. He had to keep his tabs on you, he just couldn’t stay away, even now. Throughout the years, he heard whispers of how you had married, how you had continued on without him, a life of your own.
He had known that it was bound to happen, but it didn’t make it any easier. To see you with a ring on your finger, a life that no longer had a place for him, a life that had moved on while he stayed stuck in his past.
The soft rustle of the wind moved through the trees, and that was when you turned your head, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. You blinked, as if you weren’t quite sure you were seeing him, but then there was no mistaking it.
Geto Suguru was standing there, just outside the cemetery gate, watching you with that same quiet intensity that had always been his. The world seemed to hold its breath as you slowly rose to your feet, the weight of his gaze pulling you in.
He didn’t speak at first, not knowing what to say. 
After all this time, what was there left to say?
He had left you and you had suffered.
What could someone who broke their promise say?
You walked toward him, your expression unreadable but steady, your steps purposeful. As you got closer, he noticed the glint of sunlight on your finger, and his breath hitched before he could stop himself. The wedding ring.
It was a beautiful thing, one could say. But when he looked at it, it was all but a bitter ugly, disgusting thing. It was a reminder of the life you had. A life he had never been a part of, a life he had given up on when he made the choices he did. 
You stopped in front of him, your gaze unwavering. You looked at him for a long moment, your eyes searching his face, almost as if you were still trying to figure him out after all this time. "I didn’t think you’d come back here." you said quietly, your voice thick with something he couldn’t place. Maybe it was sorrow. Maybe it was a relief.
Suguru felt a pang in his chest, but he swallowed it down. "I didn’t think I would either." His voice was rough, almost foreign to him after so many years of silence, but the words still carried weight. "But... here I am."
Your gaze flickered to the bracelet on your wrist—the one with the forget-me-not, the buttercup, the book charm. It was a silent progression that told a story. A long forgotten story, one that only you and him could remember. It was at one point his story. His presence, his absence, his love. And now it wasn’t. Not anymore.
That Geto Suguru is dead.
All that remains is an imposter.
All that remains is a devil.
"I never took it off." you said, a small, sad smile playing at the corner of your lips. "You told me to never forget you. I thought I would, after all these years... but I never could." 
Your fingers traced the charms lightly, the memory of the years that had passed between you both lingering in the air like a ghost. "I couldn’t take it off, Suguru. Not even when it felt like I should."
He couldn’t quite hide the sadness that flickered in his eyes at your words, but he didn’t look away. He had been the one to leave. He had been the one to make all the wrong decisions, and yet, somehow, you had never given up on him. You had never completely forgotten him.
Suguru reached into his pocket slowly, his movements deliberate, as though he were unsure of his next step. He pulled out a small charm, delicate and beautiful, white chrysanthemums this time, it was an offering of something new, something that said goodbye and hello being said like it was the same word.  He held it out to you, his eyes never leaving yours. 
"For you." he whispered, his voice barely audible, but full of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. "I know it’s too late. But I want you to have it."
You took it from him, your fingers brushing against his for just a heartbeat before you looked down at the charm in your palm. The white chrysanthemums were soft, intricate, and they reminded you of the fleeting nature of everything. It was full of the memories, the love, the pain.
You smiled, a bittersweet curve of your lips, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions that you had long buried. "Sugu….Suguru." you began, your voice steady but thick with something he could almost taste. "For so long, TYou wanted to be remembered. But now... you want to be forgotten."
His heart clenched at your words, but he nodded slowly, as if he had already known, as if it was something he could never change. "You deserve better than to remember a ghost of someone long gone, buttercup." he said, his voice soft but full of the kind of finality that only a ghost could understand. "You deserve a life that’s yours, not one haunted by me."
The distance between you seemed so vast in that moment, even though you were standing right in front of him. The years had stretched that gap wide, and yet, in this final moment, you both understood each other completely. 
You stood there, the weight of his words heavy between you both, as the space around you seemed to quiet. The cool breeze rustled the trees, the only sound in the air, but even it felt like a distant whisper against the rawness of the moment.
You opened your mouth, a million things on the tip of your tongue, but none of them felt right. Your heart was full of so much you couldn’t put into words. A thousand emotions flooded your chest/
And yet, you felt an aching kind of clarity in his request. You hadn’t expected it. You hadn’t expected him to say those words, to say that he wanted you to forget him. To leave him behind as if he were nothing more than a faded memory.
He stood before you, his back slightly turned, but he didn’t move away. His eyes, those dark, familiar eyes, were locked onto the distance, as though he was already gone in his mind, already on his way to somewhere far from this place, from you.
You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering over his face, trying to catch any hint of a smile, of the warmth that had once been there between you both. But it was gone. Everything had long perished to nothing.
The man in front of you wasn’t the same person you had known all those years ago, and deep down, you knew that neither were you. You had both changed, time had done its work, and the world had swept you in different directions.
"So, if I see you again—" you started, unsure of where to take the conversation, unsure of whether there even was a conversation left to have.
Suguru’s smile was sad, almost imperceptible, but it was there, and it tugged at your heart more than anything else. “Pass by, buttercup.” he said, his voice so soft, so worn. "Don’t look at me. You shouldn’t remember me. Just...."
Let me go. He thinks to himself. Don't love me again.
The simplicity of his request hit you harder than any words of anger or resentment could have. You shouldn’t remember me. He was asking you, begging you, to forget him. As though he was a shadow, a passing thing, unworthy of your attention, of your love, of your memories.
For a moment, you just stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind spinning with the weight of it all. You wanted to shout, to argue, to tell him that he was wrong—that you couldn’t just erase him from your life like he was nothing.
But the silence in the air, the finality in his tone, made you hesitate. It wasn’t anger you heard in his voice. It wasn’t even regret. It was something else entirely. it was something deeper, something rooted in the pain he had carried all these years.
“I can’t just forget you.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The truth was raw and simple, and it echoed in your chest as it passed through your lips. "I’ve carried you with me for so long, Suguru. I can’t just erase you from my life."
Suguru turned his head slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t guilt or anger, but something quieter, something softer, as though he was bracing himself for the weight of what he had just asked you to do.
"You don’t need to carry me anymore." he said, his voice barely audible, each word dragging with the weight of a thousand regrets. "I don’t deserve to be remembered. Not by you. Not by anyone. I’ve become someone else, someone I never meant to be." 
His eyes drifted to the ground, and for a moment, he looked almost... defeated. "I hurt too many people, and in the end, I hurt you too."
Those words hung in the air like a star waiting to fall from the sky but they didn’t sting, nor did they cause you any pain. Instead, they felt like the closing of a door, the end of a chapter that had been written in too much pain. You felt your heart ache, but you understood. You had mourned it long ago and this was just the end. The final bow.
You understood because, deep down, you had always known this moment would come. You had always known that one day, Geto Suguru would fade from your life, not because of time or distance, but because he had made himself into something unrecognizable.
You stepped closer, closer than you had been in so many years, the distance between you two now defined not by physical space but by something more profound, something that time had created. Your hand reached out but you stopped. You had to. You knew you can't do this. You purse your lips into a flat line. 
“I see.” You whispered, barely audible over the deafening silence between you. It was as if the world had swallowed your words before they could reach him, and the weight of it all pressed down on your chest like a heavy fog.
"I'm sorry." you murmured, feeling the familiar sting of regret in your heart. 
But the words felt useless now, just as they always had when it came to him. Too many apologies, too many unanswered questions. It was all too late. Geto Suguru shook his head ever so slightly, his dark lilac eyes never leaving the distance beyond you, his voice low but firm. 
“Don’t apologize to me.” he murmured, the edges of his words soft but carrying a weight that made your heart ache. "I should apologize…"
His eyes finally met yours, and for that brief moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded that he had never allowed anyone to see.
“Buttercup, I’m letting your hand go.” he said, and his voice cracked on the last word, like it pained him to even say it.
You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill, but you fought them back, the lump in your throat making it harder to breathe. It was too much. Too much to lose, too much to let go of. 
“I know.” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as if saying it out loud would make it all more real. The finality of his words clung to the air, and you wished you could take them back, take him back, but the truth had already been laid bare.
“Goodbye, buttercup.” he said, the words both tender and final, and they fell like a stone into the abyss between you.
“Good… good-bye, Suguru.” you managed to choke out, your voice shaking but steady enough to carry the weight of the moment. Your lips trembled, but you didn’t dare look away from him. There was nothing more to say, nothing more that could fix the pieces that had been shattered between you two.
Geto Suguru gave you one last look. It was so brief, so fleeting, like the last ray of light before the darkness settled in. His gaze lingered on you, a final connection between two souls that had once shared everything but now, they were a thousand miles apart. 
He didn’t say anything else. 
He didn’t look back, not once. 
He simply turned, his figure growing smaller and smaller as he walked away.
Your heart tightened, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. There was no running after him anymore. He had already made his choice, and you had to respect that, even though it felt like a piece of you was being torn away with every step he took. 
His footsteps were quiet against the earth, a soft rhythm that carried him further into the distance, further away from you, from everything you had ever known. And you stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to make sense of the emptiness that filled the space where his presence used to be. 
You watched him disappear into the horizon, the last connection between you both unraveling like a thread slipping through your fingers. But this time, you didn’t chase after him. You didn’t need to. You didn’t have the strength anymore. 
There were no more promises, no more hopes of reunion. This was the end of the story that had once been yours, the final chapter in a love that had burned so brightly but had faded into the past. The world had changed, and so had you.
You would never see him again. He would never hold your hand again, never smile that gentle smile that had always made you feel like you were home. And you could feel the weight of that truth pressing down on you, but it didn’t break you.
It was the end of that world. Of the two of you, of the way you had been, of everything that once felt like it was meant to be. And so, you let go. You let go, even as it hurt, even as it felt like the most impossible thing in the world.
You couldn’t love him anymore. Not like you used to. Not in the way that kept him a part of your every thought, every moment. You couldn’t carry that burden with you forever, and you couldn’t make him stay.
As he disappeared completely from sight, you finally exhaled the breath you’d been holding, a quiet sigh that seemed to carry away the remnants of him still lingering in your chest. It wasn’t easy. It would never be easy. But it was the only way forward.
You took a slow step back, your feet heavy with the weight of all the years you had spent loving him. You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew one thing for certain. You had to let him, or you'll both suffer more.
126 notes · View notes
tangerineastronaut · 2 days ago
Note
Hi! I saw you take requests.
May I request something with GOT7 Jackson Wang and best friend!reader, in which the reader starts developing feelings for him and start thinking he’s the one for her? <3
Friends, Just for Now | Jackson Wang (Part 1)
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The one where your best friend can't keep his secret anymore (and you're oblivious).
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Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 6.6k (oops) Warnings: Cheating (not between jackson and reader), lots of profanity, nicknames, namecalling, minor injury, reader wouldn't know love if it smacked her in the head, holy shit they're kind of annoying af A/N: this was so fun to write, love me a good idiots friends to lovers. I'm also cheesy af, feel free to call me out. Please excuse any errors there may be, I usually proofread after posting. ❣️The love I received on my yunho imagine has literally made me do happy dances, I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 8 years and you guys are just literally the best. I love you all so much! Requests: Open (link below)
Part 2 is on its way!
Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids
🎧 FRI(END)S by V
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“Come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen. You never listen.”
Two things went through your mind, though you refused to lift your head from where it was tucked against your knees. 
One, you hated that nickname. Pie. He thought it was so cute, and it probably would’ve died off had you not reacted to it the way you did. One missed smear of cherry on your nose 3 years ago and suddenly you’ve been christened. It was his favorite story to tell. 
And two, Jackson Wang was going to get his shit rocked if he didn’t leave you alone. 
“Fuck off,” you say bitterly, pulling further into yourself.
He was right. He had warned you.
You’d hoped Leejin was different, that the rumors were just exaggerated. Surely he didn’t cheat on every girlfriend…right?
“Wrong,” Jackson had laughed. “He’s a fucking dog, y/n.”
You’d rolled your eyes, and then Jackson said three words to you that had kind of hurt. Not kind of. A lot. They’d hurt a lot. 
“You’re not special.”
Leejin was so nice, he was smart and funny and headed for a successful career with his family’s business (so what if his parents probably paid off the school to make sure those student conduct violations never stuck). You wanted to be special. Spent 4 months trying to be. It wasn't an eternity, but you tended to put your whole heart into everything, and it almost always ended up like this.
But Jackson’s words rang true, painfully so, when you received a text from an unknown number earlier today—screenshots of messages between Leejin and some girl, including explicit photos. The unnamed person had said nothing else; you wondered if it was the girl from the screenshots, but you didn’t reply. You simply texted Leejin to go fuck himself before blocking him on everything, running straight home to your apartment, praying that Jackson wasn’t there. He was, of course, as you split the rent. You hated the look on his face when you barged in, nose red and snotty from crying.
It wasn’t smug, it was just…"come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen." 
You heard him sigh now, no doubt running a hand through his hair. It was blonde; you’d made fun of him at the time he'd dyed it though begrudgingly had to admit it suited him. But he was going to be bald before he was 40 if he didn’t stop tugging at it when he was stressed.
“Hey. Hey, stop. I hate it when you cry, you know, makes my joints hurt or something,” he says, kneeling beside you.
The fuck…? What does that even—
But you were too upset to stop, so he muttered under his breath, poking at your head until you whipped it up to slap him away. He looked like such a boy, hugging his knees and giving you a pleading look. Fine. Bastard.
You sighed and uncurled yourself, your knees screaming from the pain of turning into a human rollie pollie for the last half hour. Jackson sighed as well, no doubt relieved that you weren’t ugly crying anymore. 
He waited until your sniffles were a few minutes apart before moving, sitting criss cross on the floor. His brown eyes were soft, a rarity, truly, though you knew he was already formulating ways to tease you about this when it was more irritating than painful. 
“Done?” he asks, more to comfort himself than you. You sniff and nod, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Well, his sleeve. He made a face, realizing that you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, but made the apparent decision to yell at you later. 
“Don’t be mean to me,” you mumble, resting your cheek on your knee. 
“When am I ever?”
“Jackson, I swear to fucking—”
“I didn’t say anything, pie.”
“If you don’t drop that god damned nickname, it was one time, one little bit of cherry filling, I don’t even like cherry pie, you’re so fucking annoying—”
It was his turn to interrupt, but he didn’t. He just watched you, an irritating twinkle of amusement in his eyes. You scoffed and tucked your face away again, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that. Or at all, really. If there was one thing you’d learned after being friends with him for so long…the asshat had some eyes on him. Had this way of using his gaze to set the mood, able to stop your arguments or rile you up with micro expressions like an olympic gold medalist of manipulation. 
“Want some ramen?” he asks, tilting his head as though speaking to a kicked dog. You crinkle your nose without looking at him. “Want some cake? Some candy?”
“I want you to leave me alone,” you grumble. 
“Want a bath?”
You sigh, refusing to humor him with an answer he already had. He snapped his fingers like he’d just solved the equation of the century, having the audacity to ruffle your hair as he stepped over you unnecessarily to get to the door. You could hear him down the hall, the sound of the bathroom cabinets opening and closing, the water running, hopefully set on hot like you liked. 
“You're out of bath bombs,” he called. You frown. 
“I’m not, they’re under the sink.”
“Why’d you move them? Next to your menstrual equipment, eww.”
That’s why. You felt sorry for whatever unfortunate woman Jackson decided to wife up—the man was addicted to hot baths and cotton candy bath bombs. You’d have to move them again though, now that he knew about your stash. Besides, you’d sent him to the shop more than a few times when you were cramping and out of pads (and chocolate); he would not be impeded by them.
Jackson was waiting for you by the time you dragged yourself to the small shared bathroom. He bowed dramatically, gesturing toward the tub which was steaming hot, as you liked—a meal’s gotta cook. 
You mumble a thank you as he walks past, though he pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed.
“Get naked, and give me my damn sweatshirt,” he says, pointing accusingly at you. You pout, immediately clutching your pearls.
“Is that why you never get laid? Jesus, would’ve thought you were smoother than that,” you huff. He impatiently tugs at your sleeve, rolling his eyes in that sassy way that always made you giggle and made him more irritated—a win win scenario. 
“It’s a $30 shirt, not a snot rag…pie.”
“You’re a snot rag,” you mumble. You turn your back to him, crossing your arms at the hem and tugging it over your head. You were still in a bra thankfully, though still covered your chest as you tossed the material at him. 
Jackson caught it smoothly, though he wasn’t even looking at the sweatshirt. You didn’t realize he was looking at you until you reached for the button of your jeans. His eyes weren’t lower than your lips, but he looked a little…off. You expected a joke about a food baby or maybe how pale you’ve gotten, but he says nothing. 
“Hello?” you say, shaking your head. “Is that all? Want my pants too? Gonna do my laundry for a change?”
Jackson blinks like his brain finally returned to his skull. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head and backing out of the doorway. Before he closed the door, however, his eyes leveled with yours, so intense it made your breath catch in your throat. Was he mad? Over a sweatshirt?
“Leejin is a fucking idiot,” he says before turning on his heel and heading down the hall. 
You stare at the spot where he stood, even after he’s gone. The hell was his problem now?
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By the time you’ve finished your glorious bath, you waltz into the living room like a princess. Jackson looks up from his place on the sofa, deadpanning and tossing his phone on the coffee table as he takes in the freshly purloined hoodie you're sporting.
“Gonna lock my closet,” he says, shaking his head. You beam at him, cutely crinkling your nose as you pad to the kitchen. You tug open the fridge, thinking maybe you could cook something simple for the two of you. It was kind of late to make anything grand, but you wanted more than ramen. 
The empty shelves make your eye twitch. 
“Seriously?” you huff, gesturing around. “Would it kill you to get groceries once?”
“You always complain when I do,” Jackson shrugs, flicking through netflix with the remote. “Got the wrong brand, got too many, didn’t get enough—”
“I always text you a detailed list, but whatever,” you grumble, low enough that it doesn’t provoke a response. “Since you’re a big man baby incapable of buying groceries, you can buy us something at the convenience store.”
“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. 
“Of what? Weaponized incompetence? I agree, get dressed,” you hum. 
Ten minutes later, you’re walking side by side down to the convenience store. The apartment’s location was perfect—five minutes from campus one way, five to a 24 hour convenience store another. Perfect because you both had a habit of wanting to come home when you were drunk after a party, starved and craving foods that you’d regret the next day. 
The doors chimed a welcome as they slid open, allowing you inside. You made a beeline for the sweets, Jackson went straight for the energy drinks. 
You perused the aisle for a few minutes, making your choice and going to find your roommate. You rounded the corner and froze. 
Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to block someone in real life. So while you’d never see Leejin’s social media posts, it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t run into him on a saturday night at the convenience store near your apartment. 
You feel a mix of emotions—anger, shame, disbelief among them. You knew it wasn’t impossible, it wasn’t even unlikely, as this store was one of only a few. But it felt so damn unfair that he’d happen to be here, hours after you found out about what he’d done. 
“Is that all you’re getting?” Jackson snorts, frowning as he eyes your bag of chips. But he notices your stillness, following your gaze to see Leejin, casually chatting on the phone as he looks at the protein bars.
You expect him to snort, maybe make a comment just loud enough for the other to hear before pulling you away, but Jackson surges forward so quickly he nearly knocks you over. You grab his arm, both to steady him and stop him from…whatever the hell he’s doing. 
“Where are you going?” you whisper, tugging him back with as much strength as you could muster. 
“He broke your heart and I’m gonna break his fucking face.”
He moves again, this time dragging you along on the linoleum floor. Fortunately, Leejin is too preoccupied with his call to notice. The thought makes your stomach twist, briefly wondering who he’s talking to. 
“You’re gonna get us kicked out, what’s the matter with you?” you hiss, trying to shake sense into him. Jackson yanks his arm away from you, dropping the energy drinks on the nearest shelf before storming off. You stare after him, mouth agape in disbelief. 
You arrive home 15 minutes later, having hid near the bathrooms until Leejin had left. You’d bought (and paid for, irritatingly) your snacks and Jackson’s drinks, but when you shove into the apartment, it’s empty. Lights off, no sign of him. You worry for a few seconds—had he waited for you and bumped into Leejin instead? But you surely would’ve heard something outside. You opt to text him and choose to believe he’s being broody and walking through the streets like a sad music video.
> what the fuck? is your deal? Where are you??
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You’re confused and groggy when someone taps at your cheek, not realizing you’d even fallen asleep on the couch. You rub at your eyes, squinting, processing the sight of Jackson standing over you, t-shirt stuck to his form, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. 
You’ve had weird dreams about him before, ones that you’d rather never speak of again, and they usually start out like this. But this Jackson rolls his eyes in a way that sweet, sweet dream Jackson would never. 
“Get up, jesus. Your back is going to hurt,” he says. You slowly sit up, realizing he’s right. Apparently not only had you fallen asleep on the couch,  but you’d fallen asleep sitting up, sleeping in an unnatural slouched position. 
“Ow…”
“Told you.”
“No it’s…hey,” you snap, waking up a bit more now that you  remember that you’re actually pissed at him. “It’s your fucking fault, what happened to you? You just disappeared! I was worried!” 
You’re surprised to see Jackson bristle. He’s not shaken easily, least of all by you, but he glances to the side and tugs at his t-shirt, separating it from his damp skin. 
“Went to the gym. Figured I should cool off,” he says. You want to be pissed at him more, say something else, but your back hurts and you’re sleepy. Plus, you’re glad to see he’s alright. Mostly.
“Whatever,” you finally grumble, trying to stretch out your neck. “What time is it?”
“Dunno, around 2 a.m.,” he replies casually. “I’m gonna shower.”
“Great,” you huff. “You go shower. I’ll go roll over and die happy now that I know you’re alive.”
You stumble down the hall to your room, sighing at the sight of your unmade bed. What was the point if you were going to mess it up anyway? You hear Jackson follow shortly after, the bathroom door opening and closing. The shower starts, and you shuffle beneath the covers. 
You wake up not long after, whining in protest as you’re jostled. 
“It’s me,” Jackson says, rudely pushing you over. “Scoot.”
You wanted to shove him away, to point out that “scoot” should be said before you rob someone of their bed, but you can’t be bothered. Besides, once he settles next to you, you realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and he smells nice and clean. 
Sleepy, groggy, annoyed, relieved, you curl against him like a bunny seeking warmth. You feel him stiffen, though you think little of it. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, not sounding the least bit tired. You couldn’t say the same for yourself, unable to open your eyes as you reply. 
“Mm. ‘s warm down here. Night night.”
You hear him sigh, then shuffle, and then he’s rolled over to face you, offering a human-made cocoon that you happily burrow into. He’s soft and warm and smells like his manly body wash—and your shampoo, damn it. 
“Goodnight, y/n,” he says, soft enough to count but not enough for you to notice. 
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Waking up tangled with Jackson was, unfortunately (?), not all that unusual. When you were upset, you found your way to his bed, and despite his protests you knew he didn't actually mind. It went both ways—you'll die before you admit that you like it, if only because he's a human heater.
You still feel groggy, squinting and fumbling around for your phone. Such a task is difficult when there's deadweight slung over your waist, but you manage, bringing the device to your face.
10:43 a.m.
Oh good. You slept 8 hours—and half the day away, to your brain at least. You toss your phone down, debating whether or not you should just go back to sleep. You choose instead to roll over, addressing the sleeping shirtless man keeping you pinned to your bed.
Your camera roll was filled with photos just like this, because Jackson slept like a baby. Literally. Hands curled into fists, face relaxed, head tilted to the side. His blonde hair is mussed from sleeping with it wet last night, and you dodn't hesitate to run your fingers through it for no reason at all. It was soft and surprisingly thick, but you weren't about to dial back on the baldness theory.
Jackson stirred, though didn't wake up, shifting to lie on his back. Freed from your restraints, you sat up and had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.
Of course the curtains parted like that, of course he was sleeping like a prince now, sunlight arcing off of his jaw—it even highlighted his stubble in an annoyingly poetic way. What kind of gods were kind enough to give him of all people that face?
He really was kinda...pretty.
No, not kinda. Jackson Wang was beautiful. You were his best friend, but you weren't blind. Maybe you'd become a little numb to his charms, but you'd seen what he could do to people with just a look, even without malicious intent. He was charismatic on top of that, though you were the only one who got to see the side of him that wasn't.
The side that stole your shampoo and commandeered your bed, anyway.
So fine, you knew he was pretty. But he was kinda sorta extra pretty right now, and maybe you wanted to remember it later.
You shifted to grab your phone—a never-ending quest for material to bully each other over—but the movement apparently jostled him awake. You sheepishly smiled as he blinked a few times, using the heel of his palm to rub the blurriness away.
"Really?" he asked, voice rough, eyes leveling to the phone in your hand. "Fucking creep."
"You have like a thousand pictures of me sleeping," you point out, narrowing your eyes. Jackson nods, rolling over and hugging your waist, his head resting against your hip.
"That I do—you're cute when you drool all over yourself. I'm working on a collage."
"Asshole," you mutter, prying his arms off of you. You make an attempt to escape, but as expected, you're smoothly hauled back down.
"Where you going?"
"I need to pee, wanna come with?"
"It's early."
"It's almost 11."
"Yeah, early."
Jackson grunts before you can reply, practically placing you in a chokehold as he rolls over. You have no choice but to go with him, ending up flopped over his chest like a dead fish.
He says nothing for a moment, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. It's not difficult to squirm out of his grasp this time, though rather than allowing you to slide off, the apparently-awake-Jackson moves both hands to your hips.
Your stomach does that funny thing it sometimes does around him, like a little alarm that says 'hey! getting too close!' Listening to this alarm had prevented a lot of mistakes over the course of your friendship, mistakes like wanting to kiss him when you were tipsy, noticing the way he looked after a long workout, hair plastered to his forehead, the fuzziness you felt that time your heating pad broke, and his warm hands wound up on the lower half of your tummy to stave off the cramps.
Mistakes like that.
His eyes open again, and you do your best to look irritated.
"I'm sorry about last night," he says, suddenly unnaturally serious. "I was just trying to cool off, and my phone died, so I didn't see your text until after I got home."
You're not really sure how to respond—it was always strange when conversations got like this between you, regardless of the topic. It was so jarring, so far from the usual cracked out nonsense. You decided to nod, then shake your head, then nod again.
Jackson was a badass, most people knew as much. He was trained in martial arts and practically ate protein for every meal. But despite this, he wasn't typically an aggressive guy. You'd only ever seen him throw one punch—an ex of yours a couple years ago who threatened to post a nude photo of you. Needless to say, the guy deleted them, made difficult thanks to the blood smearing his screen as it dripped from his nose.
"It's fine, I get it," you say. "Just...why were you so mad at him? Did he do something to you?"
Jackson blinks up at you, shifting so that he's partially sitting up on his elbows.
"I told you, y/n," he says, shaking his head like you're an idiot. "He broke your heart, I was gonna break his face. You should've let me get one hit in at least."
"He didn't break my heart," you groan, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that serious, you know that. We'd only been dating for 4 months."
"...I watched you cry for an hour because someone stepped on a worm—"
"—that's different. It's literally a living little creature, what if that's someone's girlfriend, hm? What if she asked her boyfriend 'would you still love me if I was a worm' and he said yes except now they can't live wormily ever after because she's smushed all because some horrible person can't be bothered to step aside for a worm?"
Jackson stared up at you, blinking slowly, looking 175% done with your shit.
"What the fuck is wormily ever after?"
You sigh, leaning forward until your head is on his bare shoulder. You have half a mind to bite him, though you resist. You will be civil—for now.
"I don't know," you mumble. "No early birds, no hot sidewalks?"
"I....you're so fucking weird."
"Lots of guys are dickheads, but you were ready to knock him out. Really, Jackson, was that all? Promise he didn't say something to you?" you ask, voice muffled against his warm skin. Just one lil munch. It'd be good payback for him scaring the hell out of you last night.
Jackson exhales, and there's suddenly a hand tugging at your tangled mess of bedhead until you're sitting up, looking down at him.
"I wanted to kick his ass for the same reason that I never bring anyone home," he says quietly. His eyes are serious, no sparkle of humor in them, and it makes your stomach twist. You didn't like it when Jackson got serious.
"What? Because of me?" you ask. "I don't care who you fuck as long as I don't have to cook them breakfast."
Mostly true—you were afraid of walking out of your bedroom one morning and running into a really pretty girl, someone with perfect grades and clear skin, who has the audacity to be beautiful and nice. Someone only Jackson deserves. But you leave that bit out and give him a half teasing smile.
Jackson doesn't return it. He grunts, moving his hand up to tug at his hair. You slip yours beneath his, mumbling for him to stop doing that.
"You really don't?" he finally asks, swallowing hard enough that you see his throat move.
"Don't what?"
"You don't care who I fuck?"
His question catches you off guard, though not as much as the fact that he still looks dead serious. This seems like something the two of you should be laughing over—not something to talk about whilst you're currently straddling your best friend in your bed, who happens to be naked from the waist up.
"I mean...no?" you say, shaking your head in confusion. "Should I?"
"I don't know, should you?"
Should you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You didn't like riddles, and this felt like one. You'd tried to stay out of his business over the four years you've been friends, though come to think of it...you'd never met any of his girlfriends after the first six months. You'd assumed he was so busy with classes and his extracurriculars that there just wasn't much time for anything past shallow hookups.
But...you couldn't remember a single time that had occurred. He was home every night, never brought company over for that purpose.
"Jackson," you say quietly, palms resting on his chest. When the hell did he get so muscular? There was a noticable firmness beneath your fingers, and you briefly considered billing Leejin for your services in making sure he didn't get the shit beat out of him. "I feel like this is an inside joke and I'm out of the loop. You're upset? Why?"
"Why would I be?" he counters, irritatingly smooth. The hands on your hips squeeze once, like he's trying to talk to you in morse code. It's annoying.
"Quit," you mumble, biting your lower lip. "I'm trying. Stop being mean and just tell me."
He sighs, moving a hand to his face.
"If you don't already know, then it doesn't matter, alright?"
"Wh—"
You're cut off as he suddenly shifts from beneath you, leaving you tumbling to the sheets when he stands. Just like the last two times for some damn reason, he prepares to storm out of the room.
"Jackson, wait—shit."
You trip over the edge of your nightstand, catching yourself on your hands. Your lamp tumbles to the floor, thankfully not shattering on the carpet. Still, the ache brings tears to your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you sit down.
"How many times have I told you to push that against the wall!?" Jackson says, rushing over to you. You lean back against your bed, grimacing as you look at your knee. It's not the worst scrape you've ever gotten, but it is bleeding, and it burns.
"Hang on, pie." He leaves the room, and by the time he returns with the pack of bandaids and peroxide, you're covering your face with one hand and hugging your knee with the other.
"Hey, it's not so bad," he says, obviously in partial panic mode as he kneels in front of you and tugs at your ankle. He probably thought that's why you were in tears, but it was moreso the fact that he was being...just...weird, and you didn't like it.
You quietly sit there, hands over your eyes as he uses a cotton ball to dab at the blood. You don't even flinch, it doesn't burn—perks of having an MMA star for a roommate; he knew how to bandage a cut (a common occurence for your clumsy ass, unfortunately).
After a few minutes, he pats the side of your calf, and you finally uncover your eyes. There's a bandaid over the scrape now, and you let your knee fall to the side. Jackson is looking at you, and you nod.
"That's good, thanks," you mumble quietly.
"You sure?" he asks. You frown, nodding quickly. But his hand moves up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb swipes below your eye.
Tears.
That alarm goes off inside of you, but Jackson doesn't move his hand, so you let it sit there and you feel your stomach tying itself into a knot. You're a little worried it's not gonna come undone.
"I wasn't crying because of that," you say, swallowing as you glance away shamefully. "I...I don't like this, Jackson. Feels weird. If I did something to make you mad, I wish you'd just tell me—"
"I'm not mad at you," he replies. You sniff, and finally his hand slips away, though only to rest on your uninjured knee. His fingers twitch, like he wants to do something but won't let himself. Slap you, maybe, for never listening to him and always ending up hurt because of it. You would, if you were him.
"You keep running away from me," you point out, a little surge of anger from last night returning. "You keep acting like I'm supposed to know everything you're thinking, and I don't, because you won't tell me stuff. I tell you stuff, the least you could do is text me a grocery list of what the fuck is going on inside of your brain, so I'm not sitting here thinking I'm gonna lose my best friend and roommate over something I don't even know that I've done. I'm sorry we ran into Leejin, it's not like I knew he was gonna be there. I'm sorry for thinking I was special in the first place and ending up where you said I'd be."
Jackson sighs and tilts his head, and you hate yourself for crying more. It wasn't a big deal, things were a little crazy after yesterday. You didn't even love Leejin, it had just...hurt? Your pride? No one wants to know they're less than a second choice. But Jackson had acted like Leejin was out for his blood, and every time he runs away, it feels like he's escaping you.
"You're not gonna lose me," he finally says, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I've got a lot of shit to work through, you know? It's not...it's not your fault though."
"Like what?" you ask, worry lining your brow. "If you'd just—is it money? Because we can figure out rent—"
"It's not money," he interrupts. "I promise, it's nothing like that."
"Then what?" You huff, a little more irritated than concerned. "Parents? Grades? Girl trouble?"
"Yeah," he nods, licking his lips. "That last bit."
"Girl trouble?" you ask, somewhat surprised. For some reason, the fact that he hadn't told you about a girl bothered you more than the idea that there was one at all. You shared everything with him; if he'd kept her a secret, it had to have been a little more serious.
"Do I know her?" you ask tentatively. Please say no, I don't want to go through a list of the hottest girls I know.
"Yeah," he replies. Fuck.
"Oh. How long have you been dating?"
"We're not."
"Then...?"
"She's an idiot."
"It's a mystery as to why you're single, really," you say, rolling your eyes. "So she's an idiot because she won't date you? Sounds kind of shallow on your end."
"She's an idiot because she keeps dating jackasses who don't give a shit about her. I don't give a damn if she ever chooses me or not," he says plainly. You frown.
"Maybe she's insecure?"
"She is. Very."
"Huh. Is she pretty?"
"Beautiful."
"Oh. Hm."
Well what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations? Sorrows, sorrows, prayers?
"Okay..." you say after a beat. You were not good with advice, especially when it came to love, obviously. He didn't say love though. Infatuation, maybe. Still, you were not an expert. "So if she keeps dating jackasses and won't date you, why do you bother? Why not just forget about her?"
Jackson's eye twitches. You don't notice.
"Hard to forget someone you see every day, pie," he says. You scoff.
"Okay, I'm calling bullshit. I'm literally the only person you see every day."
"Mhm."
"Then you're lying?" you ask. Jackson deadpans.
"Please, for the love of god, never reproduce."
"Rude," you mutter. "Fine, so I know her, she's insecure, pretty, dates assholes, you allegedly see her everyday?"
"All of the above," he says. You frown, lips pursing as you rack your brain for answers, going through the hot insecure girls you know like a filing cabinet.
Wait.
Your eyes widen. Jackson's do the same, and then he smiles, like he's proud of you.
"Oh my god, is it Kim Sujin?" You ask, covering your mouth. "The girl with the—"
"Jesus fucking christ, y/n," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...you're fucking with me? That's what this is. You're not this dumb, right? Please say no. I feel like I'm in middle school right now, holy shit."
You open your mouth to argue, to insist he was being unfair (you didn't even like puzzles!) but he suddenly leans forward, palms cupping both of your cheeks. He pulls you toward him, nose inches from yours. You've been this close to him before, but you're suddenly dizzy now, a little out of it as you wonder if this is really happening to you—or if this is another sweaty-jackson-standing-over-me dream. Jackson, who has freckles on the tip of his nose and won't stop looking at you like that, the knot pulling tighter and tighter.
"Stop thinking before you hurt yourself. 'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" he asks.
Is that oka—?
"Kiss?" you mumble, swallowed up by those god damn pretty brown eyes. Jackson nods, head tilted, primed to kiss the cluelessness out of you, apparently. "Y-yeah, that's fine."
"It's gonna be...it's gonna be a lot, okay? Like not just a peck. You're fine with that?"
"Yep," you nod.
Jackson nods back. And then he kisses you.
He doesn't release your face, squishing your body between himself and the bed behind you. His lips press to yours, insistent and warm, though you can tell he's being cautious—if you wanted to push him away, you could. But you did not want to do that.
Because Jackson Wang was kissing you, and he's a really good kisser.
You briefly forget that you have hands, so when you remember, you waste no time in using them. One cups his jaw, feeling the edge of it press into your palm. The other fists his blonde hair, tugging it gently.
Jackson groans into your mouth, and that alarm in your belly turns into a fucking war drum. You feel the knot tighten and snap, and suddenly you're pushing him back, scrambling into his lap.
You kind of want more, kind of want to put your tongue in his mouth because he's warm and tastes good and you can only imagine how much better it would be, but he beats you to it. His tongue swipes over your lower lip and you eagerly open for him. He breathes in as soon as you do, and it feels like he's stealing your soul. Fuck it? He can have it?
It's messy, a tad bit desperate, definitely not the poetic kiss of rom coms, but you don't give a shit. It feels good, feels warm and right, like you've been kissing him in your head every day for the past 4 years.
By the time you manage to separate, you're trembling an embarassing amount. You'd blame the buzz on coffee if you'd had any, but you just hide your flushed cheeks and rest your forehead against his shoulder. You can tell that for once, Jackson's brain seems to also have short circuited, as it takes him a minute before he finally wraps his arms around you. You can hear his breath—as shaky as yours, thank god.
"Was that okay? Was it weird? Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asks, tilting back on one palm to look at you, his other arm secured around your waist. You sit up, shamelessly biting your lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes. He mistakes this for discomfort, all but shoving you out of his lap, hands flying to his hair.
"Fuck, I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to. I wasn't gonna...I'm so fucking sorry y/n, if you want me to move out—"
"You're gonna go bald," you mumble, a little blitzed out as you rest on your hands.
"Huh?"
"Nevermind. Stop freaking out, okay?" you offer, finally looking up at him. God he looks...scared. Hair messy, brown eyes wide. So unlike his usual cocky self that you're a little shaken, caught between wanting to protect him and wanting to kiss him again.
"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" he asks softly. That alarm is now everywhere, setting off in your chest at his concerned tone. You shake your head.
"No. I'm okay," you reassure him. "A little irritated."
Jackson's head snaps up, worry on his face. You feel guilty, so you quickly clarify.
"You said I'm not special," you say quietly, looking away. "If you were talking about me just now...why did you tell me that?"
He looks confused, like he can't remember (of all the things he's said to bully you—while you kept a detailed record). But he seems to finally recall the conversation, rubbing his forehead as his lips spread into a smile.
"What's funny?" you puff.
"I meant to him, pie. You're not special to him. Not that you weren't special at all, or to...to me," he explains, looking part amused and part shy. You soften a bit, unable to help but pout.
"Then you should say that!" you say, gesturing at nothing. "You can't just go around telling people they aren't special."
"I don't make you feel special?" he asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.
Well, yes, but that's not the point. You choose not to reply.
Just like most things when it comes to you, however, he already knows the answer. He looks a little too proud of himself as he reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into him. You're not quite in his lap, but you lean heavily against his side, your chin resting against his chest.
"What if we mess it up?" you ask, looking up at him. He frowns, not understanding. "Us. What if...what if we mess us up?"
"I don't see how we would," he laughs. "We're practically married."
"Gross. We are not."
"We split the bills, pie."
"Most roommates do."
"We cook together."
"Most roommates do."
"My mother loves you."
"Your mother loves everyone."
"Not true. And my father loves you."
You pause, then squint.
"Your father has good taste," you say. Jackson rolls his eyes. He looks a little conflicted, like he can't decide what's too much, what's too soon.
"I do," he says quietly.
You hate that, for once in your life, you know exactly what he's saying without him saying it. And god damn it, you feel your eyes burning.
"Don't...ugh," you whine, looking away from him. But he's not having it, taking your chin and tilting your face up. You're faced with glassy eyes that make you want to die.
You hated it when he cried. Maybe you make his joints hurt or whatever, but you've only seen Jackson cry twice, once when his family dog died, and another when he was drunk and had convinced himself you weren't his friend anymore. Both times, you'd never felt so helpless. The way you feel now.
"Y/n, I—"
"Please don't," you breathe quickly, swallowing down your tears. You immediately panic at the look on his face, like you've slapped him. But you tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head.
"No, I-I mean, I know you do, and I...I'm pretty sure I do too. I just...I can't say it now, alright?" you explain. "I'm sorry, I just—you know me better than anyone. I don't...don't wanna fuck it up, you know? I don't wanna lose you, I'm so bad, so stupid when it comes to this—"
"Hey, hey, shh..." Jackson says, gently shaking your chin. "I'm not upset, okay? Just relieved, a little scared. I don't want to fuck this up either, yeah? I want...I want what we are today and I want it tomorrow, even if that means we stay just like this."
His thumb brushes your lower lip. God, you want to kiss him again.
"No rush, pie, okay? I'll wait for you, even if..." he sucks in air and looks away, as though the idea hurts to even consider. "...even if it's never for us."
You want to kiss him again. Would that even be appropriate? After what you just said? After the emotions threatening to disrupt the foundation of your life for the past four years?
"Can...can I kiss you again?" he asks softly. You swallow and nod.
"Please."
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r4fe-cam3ron · 3 days ago
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𓍯 ִֶָ FEBRUARY SECOND; side a — for you - rita ora (ft. liam payne | s. reid x reader
w; nothing!!! besides it being a tad bit short. an; i had no idea what to write for this </3 i apologize 😔😔😔
mixtape here!
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Valentine’s day — an excuse to wear something pretty, or to go out, or to simply just exchange and receive gifts before slipping into come cozy clothes and watching some cheesy comedy while eating pizza and eating yourself into a cookie coma. 
Though, yours is looking a bit…lonely. Even if you had dressed up, bought a new outfit and makeup, and did your hair, you’re at home. 
Waiting for Spencer. He had yet to call you to let you know if he was going to be late — so, at this moment, it feels as if he’d just dipped altogether. 
Although a better part of your mind knows that he would never — could never — forget about your plans, some distant part of your mind sets up that doubt and it starts to slowly bubble until you're in tears. 
It was late now — midnight — and you’re just now wiping off the makeup you’d taken your time with, and slip out of the new outfit you’d bought, to only slip into some pajamas and step into your kitchen to pour you a glass of white wine and grab the box of chocolates you’d gotten for both Spencer and yourself to share. 
Pressing play for ‘How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days’, you sit back and pull the covers over your legs as you take the first bite of chocolate just as your door quickly swings open. 
“I’m sorry,” Spencer startles you, causing you to look over at him. He’s flushed, one of his cheeks is a bit more red than the other, yet still flushed. You look away then, remaining silent. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t forget, I just couldn’t make it,”
You think that makes you feel a bit worse than what he intended. You hear the door shut and the locks click before he walks over quickly, kneeling in front of you. 
“Try to understand, please. I was…I was dealing with Mom,” This catches your attention, your eyes drifting away from the television and landing on the man in front of you instead with heavy, tired eyes. “I couldn’t leave her in that kind of panicked state and I couldn’t get to my phone right away. I wanted to call you so bad, but—”
Moving the chocolates away from your lap, your hands immediately cup his face. “Hey, it’s okay,” You shake your head. You’d never truly stay mad at Spencer for long, and this time, you knew you really couldn’t blame him. “Breathe. I promise it’s okay.” You feel his head nod a bit in your grasp, his eyes slowly closing as he presses his own hand on top of your left one. 
You watch with a bit of worry, feeling your heart skip a beat when his lips press into your palm, lingering there. Your thumb brushes over his cheekbone softly before leaning close and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 
He pulls away slowly, yet staying close, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes slowly open and looks into yours. You can see the beginning of when he starts to tear up, your heart clenching. 
“I’ll make up for it. I promise.” 
“Spence,” You shake your head, a small smile forming on your lips to reassure him. “I won’t lie and say that I wasn’t upset about it—”
“Because I would be able to tell.” He quickly adds. 
Your smile grows a bit as you nod. “Because you’d be able to tell,” You add. “But, I knew that there had to be something wrong for you not to call or anything. I also knew that you’d explain everything to me, even though you could just…not explain anything to me.” 
“But that’s what I’m supposed to do.” 
“Believe it or not, some guys don’t feel the need to explain why they never called or showed up. But you’re not some guy,” You tilt your head slightly. “You’re…you,” 
Before, that statement would feel Spencer with a sense of dread. He would never know if someone meant that in a good or bad way. But now, when you say it, he knows it’s something good. 
“You’re Spencer Reid. The kindest guy to ever exist,” You lean in close and feel his face heat between your palms, a smile spreading over your lips as they slightly brush his own. “And I’m the luckiest.” 
Sealing your lips against his finally, he lets out a small hum of content, eyes closing as his hand slips to your wrist instead. It’s a soft, sweet kiss that as him following after you when you pull away. 
“I love you.” You whisper. 
His eyes open and he looks at you. “I love you. I’m sorry.” 
“Stop apologizing.” You shake your head. 
“Okay. Sor—” Cutting his apology off with another kiss, you feel as his lips grow into a small smile against yours, his hands now moving to cup your face. Pulling away, he stares at you before pushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “Want me to stay?” 
“Would you?” 
“Of course,” He nods. Instead of squatting in front of you, he places himself next to you. He pulls you close, his fingers wrapped gently around your bicep. 
A small sigh leaves your lips when your head lays against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat in his chest and the moment he leaned down to press his lips to your forehead, allowing them to linger there as his fingers drag up and down slowly along the side of your neck. 
“Spencer,” You whisper. He lets out a small noise to let you know he’s listening. “I hope you know you never have to explain anything you don’t want to,” His fingers stop their path. 
“Not until you’re ready, that is. You help a lot of people in a lot of ways — more than you know,” You nod. “That’s when I knew.” 
It remains silent, all besides the television playing slowly in the background. 
“Knew what?” Spencer finally whispers. 
“That I was in love with you.” 
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𓍯 ִֶָ tags; @ali-r3n — @marchsfreakshow — @dearestjune — @sstar-ggirl
𓍯 ִֶָ thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, and feedback are welcomed and greatly appreciated!
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leeyasuojihan · 3 days ago
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An Hour with You
Soobin X Male Reader
fluff, slight angst 
IC: Reader is an ex-SHINee member (maknae), age gap (5 yrs Soobin is 24, M/n is in his late 20’s), acquaintances/friends to lovers(not really), reader is friends with Yeonjun, reader had a past scandal very brief, -nim means Mr., sorry if anyone is out of character I'm just a writer 😣, Rusty writer, I'm seriously not good at dialogue
A/n: there were so many moments where I was like wtf am I writing about idek what pov this is? 3rd ig, I used the 40% of English I know, slightly inspired by the bl “Light on Me” the ending
Start: 12/22/24 - Finished: 02/02/25
~
An hour or 8, how long has it been? {name} has been in the studio since the group had returned from an interview, hours since he and Chan had both been there working on their solos for their next release HOP
Is there something wrong with him? All the other members have already finished at least writing their songs, I mean it's not that it's due anytime soon, but still, it's been weeks. The only word present in his notebook was the word “you” surrounded by scribbled-out traces of his past thought processes
How much longer would he have to stare at his pen for ideas to start forming? He looks around for his phone, seeing it by his once-filled coffee cup he checks the time, 6:30 AM, as it is about to turn off a notification reignites it
Lixie: Hyung, are you still at the studio? you weren't in your room
Why was he still up, they have another interview tomorrow, or well later today either way it's not something he's excited for, {name} quickly responds 
{name}: I’m leaving now, why are you still up Lixie
Sending the message he packs up disgruntledly glancing at his poor attempt at a song one last time before closing his notebook and tossing it into his bag so ready to do anything but think for the next hours
~
7:31
Entering the shared dorm Felix was waiting in the main room lying on the couch, hearing the door he turned his attention from his phone, “Oh hyung, you look tired”, “Wow, thank you” {name} said placing his bag down beside the door, he’ll get it later, or someone else will do it
“You know I didn't mean it like that, you lay with me,” Felix said, watching {name}’s slow movements towards him. Nights like this were when {name} wished he had just settled for a normal job after leaving his last group, he appreciated the member's efforts and all of Stay’s support, all 7 summers together were spent with no regrets, but with a schedule like this there should be a lot more breaks 
“Have you finished your song yet {name}?”, {name} groaned not wanting to think about his lack of creativity, “I'm not even close, I have no good ideas”, Felix responded with a hum “We still have a month” A month {name} is sure will be filled no progress since 5 have already passed
“Yeah,” {name} says, turning towards the window, curtains slightly blocking out the beauty of the sunrise. “It's almost light outside, I'll go shower so I won't take too long when we're ready to leave” At this point, it wasn't only the music becoming a burden 
It was everything and everyone, even the shortest conversations like this were exhausting especially when they were about work, he didn’t even feel like he had enough energy for a shower but whatever would help him get away for a few minutes
The thought of a hiatus was never a new thing, he had been on hiatus for a scandal a year ago, and that might be the problem, he had gotten so used to doing nothing only to be placed back with a hectic schedule on a random day when the company decided they wanted him back in the group 
Since this comeback started he has been battling the thought of having this conversation again, this time it being his own decision, he didn’t want to leave the boys worrying while they were all busy with practices and preparing for their solos. He’s usually good at pushing through these moments regardless of how tired he is, but recently the weight of everything feels as if it's trying to crush him
Being in the industry as long as he and being the oldest of the group has made even the smallest mistakes on stage and during recordings made him feel like he’s no longer good enough to be an idol, the other boys have noticed his constant requests for retakes but it never seemed that serious as Seungmin would do the same at times
Now not even being able to write a song was his limit, living like this any longer was just unbearable, all his passions seemed to be dimming, and it was obvious, to him at least, that he needed to take a step back before he completely loses it
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The interview goes by as most do, lame jokes, fake laughs to be nice, and the interviewer knowing barely anything about the actual group, fun. Although {name} spent most of the interview zoned out it didn't change much since both felt like a waste of time, one was just more socially agreed on
Chan of course observed all his members making sure they were all comfortable and noticed quickly when {name} wasn't as interactive as he usually was, only sending small smiles his way when he’d seen the leader looking his way
Finally, there's an end to it, the room fills with thank you’s and staff members packing up, {name} quickly made his way over to Chan thanking a random staff member, “Can I talk to you about something” Chan's expression became more serious as he turned in {name}’s direction “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you too”
The two ended up in a bathroom, not the best place but it's private. “Are you okay you barely said anything the whole time” Chan started “Actually, Channie.. I haven't been feeling well lately, I wanted to talk to you about going on hiatus”
With his reaction {name} wasn't sure how he was feeling, Chan simply nodded and stared for a second before speaking again “How long have you been feeling like this, why didn't you tell me earlier”, {name} thought about for a second glancing around but still the design of the room goes unnoticed “it's been 5 months now, I didn't want to bother you guys but right now everything even just talking for too long feels like a chore. I don't want to leave but I think I need time to find myself”
“{name} hyung, this isn't something that bothers us, this is serious. I'm sorry you've been feeling this way and that I didn't notice sooner, you've worked hard, it's normal to get tired, you're human. If a hiatus is what you need we’ll all support you” Chan says going in for a hug
{name} accepted the hug, It was no surprise he’d react this way, he was probably the best leader any group could have, but there was always a thought that leaving in the middle of preparing for another comeback was just selfish competing with the his other thought that if he doesn't take a break his lack of motivation could imperil the group and his relationship with his members
“Seriously don't worry about us, we can talk to the company together and figure out how to handle this. Take care of yourself”
[2 Days later]
For some reason having everyone here talking about this felt embarrassing, almost as if he should be punished for not being strong enough to keep going. The members sat gathered around the main room sitting wherever they could fit
As Chan explained why they were all called here, the attention was fully on him and {name} the only two standing, the atmosphere was awkward but free of judgment. Chan gave {name} a pat on the back before sitting on the couch armrest by Minho “I want to start by saying I love you all, I'm very grateful to be a part of this group and have you guys as my brothers, but lately…I haven't been okay”
The room immediately falls silent, the member's once playful expressions fading into furrowed brows and worried glances. Looking down to avoid eye contact {name} continues “I’ve been feeling burnt out for a while now. I didn't tell you guys because I didn’t want to disappoint you, but it’s been getting harder every day. I feel like I can’t give 100% anymore to our fans, you, or even myself. I already talked to Chan about it, and we both agreed that I needed to take a break”
There was a brief moment of stunned silence with the boys exchanging glances and processing his words. Still unable to meet their eyes {name} continues “I know this might make things harder for all of you. I hate the idea of leaving you even for a little while, but I need this time to figure things out, I’m really sorry”
Jeongin is the first to speak up “Hyung why are you apologizing? You dont have to be sorry for taking care of yourself” his voice wavering slightly “You’ve been so strong for all of us. If you’re feeling this way, we’ll support you no matter what”. Changbin’s usually playful personality wasn’t present 
“{name}ie, we’ve always said that we’d support each other through anything, and this is no different. Your health comes first. The group will manage without you for however long you need—we’ll make it work. You just focus on getting better.”
Felix made a slight humming sound nodding his head to agree “when you’re ready to come back we’ll be here waiting for you”
Felix got up walking to where {name} was standing pulling him into a hug. It didn’t take long before it became a group hug
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5 days in, not much has changed aside from now being over rested. It wasn’t a bad change though. Despite the comfort {name} knew it was time to get out of bed and start taking care of himself 
When he walked to the living room his mom was watching the news, it was nothing important just something to follow the weather report 
“Ma?” hearing her son’s voice she looks over “oh you're up?, how are you feeling?” It was a quick glance as she continued to watching the news
“I feel a little better” {name} says walking over to the kitchen behind the couch. “That’s good, I made you something. Also when you’re done eating do you think you could go to the store for me”
This time instead of glancing she got up and walked over to him lifting the cover off the breakfast she made. {name} didn’t have anything else to do so the answer was easy “yea, what do you need me to get”
With 3 things left to find on the list his mom gave to him he turns the cart into another isle to be met with a man standing in front of 1 of 3 things
“Excuse me?” {name} called, The man turned around surprised “Oh! Hi {name}nim,”. It was Soobin, {name} knew him, he was the leader of his friend Yeonjun’s group. {name} had went out to restaurants and played games with members before, but only when Yeonjun was there
Soobin had also recently went on hiatus for health issues, “I saw that you’re also on hiatus now, how are you?”. {name} answered his question while placing what he needed in the cart “I’m doing well, what about you? your break is almost done”
“Ah, I’m good, I feel better” Soobin said observing the cart and its keepings. “{name}nim are you in a hurry to go home after this” 
“Not really,” there wasn’t much for {name} to do at home besides watching tv and talking to his mom and their dog, the groceries weren’t an urgent need
“There’s a café close, do you want to get coffee together?” Soobin asked looking as if he wanted any answer but a the word no
Or is this delusion? Either way no wasn’t an option “yea, I just need 2 more things though”, Soobin smiled softly “What else? Let’s look for them together. I couldn’t find what I wanted anyway”. He took the small blue paper from {name}’s hand
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After ordering they took a seat in a corner with the grocery bags resting below them. Soobin angled his head trying to see the one that kept turning over
“Did you just want to get coffee, or did you want to talk about something?” Just a curious question from {name}. Soobin looked up with that one slightly surprised bunny expression he has
S-“I just thought about how I’ve never gotten the chance to talk to you alone”. 
{N}-“Tomorrow I have nothing to do, do you want to go somewhere together?”
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For the first time in a while seeing someone didn’t feel like a chore to {name}, if anything it was his main motivation to do better
How would he go see Soobin if he hadn’t showered, brushed his teeth, or got dressed
At this point he’s gotten up early and showered for it to return as a habit. His phone lights up, 2:05 am, from Soobin 
“Hey {name}ie, do you want to go to the store with me?”
{N}- “Soobie it’s so late why are you up😭”
S- “we had to re-record a few things and why are you still up {name}-nim”
{N}- “alright,” “don’t question me” “I’ll go get ready and wait for you outside”
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It wasn’t anything speacial but these past 4 months, even though Soobin when back to schedules, {name} has been going on late night or early morning walks with Soobin to a close store or to wherever they decide to stop, talking about any and everything
Surprisingly and unsurprisingly they had a lot in common, and Soobin tells {name} about everything that happens while he’s on hiatus 
Like Felix getting lost on stage again, Jeongin and Beomgyu annoying both groups, and messages of how much both Stay and the kids miss him 
The last one always feels like he was sent to recruit {name} from hiatus. “So how much longer do you think you’ll be on hiatus?” 
He’s been thinking about it, finally seeing his members again. As much as he needed this break, he now misses his members 1000 times more, calls weren’t enough 
Soobin has of course been great company, another thing he’s been thinking about
“Hmm, tomorrow” of course it definitely wasn’t thought out but {name} was tired of not being able to see them
“Really?!” Soobin stopped walking for a while until {name} reached beside him and turned to face him
{name} shook his head “mhm, also since you’re usually the one inviting me for walks, I invited you this time because I wanted to tell you something…”
They were back to walking. Soobin looked over again “Oh? {name}ie what is it?” 
“I like you” a sentence enough to stop their movement again. “I wanted to tell before I got off hiatus since our schedules probably won’t match anymore”
Blank stare. Blink. Was it a mistake? Did he misunderstand?
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“{name} are you sure you’re ready to go back to the dorms?” His mom asked looking at him from the doorway
“Yea, I’ll be okay. I was okay when i debuted, I’ll be okay now” he glanced around his old room.
Knock Knock
“Mom did you invite someone?” “No, I’ll go check”. A few minutes later a stream of familiar chatter flowed down the hallway 
“{NAME}IE” Changbin already shouting before they all got into view. {name} got up meeting the members halfway at tge door, Felix was the first one to pull him into a hug
“Oh- why are you guys here?!” {name} accepted the hug motioning for the other boys to join which they did without hesitation except for Chan who just answered giggling at the scene “we had a day off so we wanted to come pick you up”
They separate with the younger members moving to do their own little inspection of the room that held their oldest brother for months 
“Are you feeling better?” Chan asked walking over and picking up {name}’s packed bag. “Yeah, I can’t wait to go back”
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2024 MAMA Awards 
Hours of announcements and 4-5 awards won for the night, a performance is the perfect time for a bathroom break
Jisung and Hyunjin went along too. As they entered the bathroom Soobin was by the sink washing his hands and looked over 
The two boys beside {name} quickly greeted Soobin before entering their own stalls
Soobin grab a paper towel drying his hand before speaking. “{name}, I’m sorry,” “it doesn’t matter” before {name} walk away Soobin caught his hand
“After the awards, I’ll be outside for a while just come talk to me” Soobin finished throwing the paper towel away before hurrying back to his seat 
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Soobin sat outside on a bench a bit near the building, a vacant area compared to the front littered with confused idols trying to get to their correct vans. {name}’s slow steps lead right to him. Soobin looked up blurry eyed “You're here”. {name} took a seat beside him only looking ahead as if there was something interesting about the same trees hes seen before
“What did you want to talk about Soobin?”. Sooobin let out a light sigh before sitting back “{name}, when you told me you liked me i was scared. I'm sorry”, “why are you saying sorry, it's okay, you don't need to like me , just say thank you for liking me, it sounds better”. 
Looking at each other Soobin finally lets himself smile, even if it was a small one, “thank you for liking me, but i like you too”. “Oh. Soobin-ah thank you, i really liked being around you, but this time i i’d rather someone who gives me the same effort i give”
Soobin glanced down for a second before looking back up to meet {name}’s evercalm expression, “hyung, i'll try again. I promise i wont make you feel that way again”.
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“Go for it”
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1dcommunityficrecs · 3 days ago
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Rec List: Letter Writing Fics!
There's something so romantic about writing letters -- even when they aren't love letters! The idea of taking the time and effort to put pen to paper, to share your thoughts and feelings with someone else, to drop them into a mailbox and wait (im)patiently for their response... poetry. Even with modern emails -- they may not inherently be quite as dreamy, but you can still capture a lot of the same energy and vulnerability and connection.
Here are ten fics focusing on written communication, mostly physical letters but some diaries or online communication as well. We've got a lot of historical stories, a lot of long-distance, and SO much pining. Read, kudos, comment, reblog, follow, subscribe -- and get ready for the next category!
Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by SadaVeniren/@sadaveniren (42495, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
Omega Prince Harry writes letters to Prince Ludwig to whom he'd been promised to marry since birth, while he gets to know Louis, a simple worker from the neighbouring kingdom. The same, he's supposed to marry the prince of for a truce
Reccer says: the double/secret identity always gets me. also they building of their relationship while also trying to keep key parts of them hidden
Just Another Card Again by tippitytap/@tippitytap (3775, General, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Dear reader, this is a story of Harry and Louis falling in love through greeting cards and being neighbours. With love, Clifford
Reccer says: So so cute and the links to the cards are such a nice touch.
Dirty Diana by yeah_alright/@uhoh-but-yeah-alright (3042, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
Harry writes to his confidante Diana every day for a month about all his Louis fantasies.
Reccer says: Really creative, hot, and so funny! Filled with smutty ideas but the tone is light and fun - such a great combo! The juxtaposition of Harry's dirty thoughts and his sweet way of communicating with Diana made me giggle throughout the fic
adjudication by barchive/@bottomlinsons (75000, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Harry has fallen for his betrothed through letters she written him over the years, but when he finally arrives to marry her, he learns things aren't what he has believed
Reccer says: It's so well crafted. The plotting and pacing are excellent and the use of miscommunication is really well done. Plus there's some very swoonworthy scenes!
all the sins you didn’t have by Brooklyn_Babylon/@twopoppies (99522, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: A sexual assault, not going all the way
It’s 1880, and premier danseur Harry Styles is running out of time. At twenty-five, he’s fast becoming too old for the lecherous benefactors who frequent The Paris Opera Ballet’s infamous backstage, and the only way to ensure he isn’t left penniless or rotting away in a brothel is to secure a permanent patron. Enter Lord Louis Tomlinson: wealthy, young, handsome. And, unfortunately, a notorious rake.
Reccer says: Everything is amazing -- the theme, the location, the era, the atmosphere. And it’s wonderfully written. I love the gorgeous sensory details, and how the author uses those to cast light on the characters’ hidden emotions.
No One Like You by my own spark/@myownsparknow (19932, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.
Reccer says: I love the nerdy art-historical discoveries!
Blue Moon by Aquietlarrie/@aquietlarrie (152907, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
it’s the late 50’s. times are ‘simple’. rock n roll is in full swing. vinyl, music and dancing are the primary ways of entertaining yourself, and in a time where loving someone of the same sex is illegal, two strangers catch each other’s eyes across a dancefloor and do just that. over the span of a year and in between two cities, harry and louis happen to find each other at just the right time.
Reccer says: I thought this was SO well-researched—the 50s vibes are immaculate.
Lonely Cards Club by Hellolovers13/@hellolovers13 (25837, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson ) – fic post
Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. 💌
Reccer says: This fic is so sweet! Just the perfect bit of gentle cheer, love, and mystery.
miles away from seeing you by LiveLaughLoveLarry/@loveislarryislove (1700, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Harry is studying abroad in New Zealand, but he keeps in close communication with his long-term boyfriend back in England.
Reccer says: This fic is told entirely through social media posts, texts, emails, etc, which is a super cool medium! It's very sweet feeling their connection from so far apart.
Dearest Gemma (I fell in love) by Thingsicant (1300, General, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
Harry writes his sister letters as he meets, falls in love with, and courts a handsome blacksmith.
Reccer says: Harry's ups and downs of emotion make me laugh, and the surprise Louis has been working on is so sweet.
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solxamber · 5 hours ago
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A valentines request 💕 (the influx of requests after book 7’s update must be overwhelming haha, please take your time!!)
Vil, romantic, “If it’s make believe, why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow? What if he’s written ‘mine’ on my upper thigh only in my mind?” (Guilty As Sin - Taylor Swift)
Link : https://youtu.be/OOYlWF6V8t8?si=su5K_CNvS_W2G5jN
Showmance || Vil Schoenheit
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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭
𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Guilty as Sin? by Taylor Swift
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 820
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Costars to lovers, showmance, Mutual pining
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The first time you met Vil, it was under the glare of stage lights and the scrutiny of a dozen casting directors. The chemistry was instant, electric in a way that made the producers exchange delighted glances.
You didn’t know it then, but that moment would mark the beginning of something far more complicated than just playing pretend lovers.
The romance drama you both starred in had captivated audiences, a story dripping in tension, longing gazes, and kisses stolen in the rain. Every scene, every carefully rehearsed embrace, every whispered confession felt real—maybe too real.
Late-night rehearsals blurred into early mornings. You knew how Vil liked his eggs—soft, just barely runny, seasoned with a pinch of pink salt. He memorized your coffee order, down to the precise ratio of milk to espresso. It wasn’t just acting anymore; it was instinct.
But you weren’t the only one suffering under the weight of blurred lines. Vil, composed and refined, carried himself with a grace untouchable by most. Yet, even he wasn’t immune.
He was always the perfect co-star, always professional—until the cameras stopped rolling, and his touch lingered just a second too long. Until his eyes, sharp and piercing, softened in ways they shouldn’t when he looked at you.
Still, you played your roles.
Hand in hand, you navigated through paparazzi, his presence a shield against the blinding flashes. On red carpets, he stood close, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as he murmured, “Tilt your chin slightly. The lighting will flatter you more.”
In interviews, he praised your talent, spoke of you with a reverence that made your chest ache. The way he gazed at you—steady, unwavering—left audiences convinced.
"They’re so in love," the headlines declared.
If only they knew.
Vil dreamed of you. He dreamed of untying the ribbons of your outfit, tracing the dips and curves of your silhouette like an artist memorizing their masterpiece. He dreamed of calling you his, not for the cameras, not for the show, but in a way that would make the entire world understand that you belonged to him.
You dreamed of him too. Of his hands, his voice, the way he could undo you with nothing but a single glance. You dreamed of his name against your lips, of him writing "mine" on your skin, branding you with devotion.
But they were only dreams.
The script for the final episode was spread between you, its pages crinkled from hours of flipping back and forth. The last scene was a confession, the culmination of everything your characters had fought against, every moment of tension reaching its inevitable breaking point.
You were curled into Vil’s couch, script in hand, reading the lines under your breath.
"I never wanted to fall for you. I tried to stop it, I really did."
You turned to Vil, expecting his usual measured advice on how to deliver the words. Instead, you found him already watching you. The golden glow of the lamp cast shadows across his features, his lips parted as if caught mid-thought.
“Vil?”
He inhaled sharply. “Say it again.”
You blinked. “Say what?”
“The line.”
You cleared your throat. "I never wanted to fall for you. I tried to stop it, I really did."
His jaw clenched. “And yet?”
You hesitated. “And yet, I couldn’t help myself.”
Silence stretched between you, heavy, suffocating. You felt it like a storm rolling in, inevitable, inescapable.
Vil moved before you could process it, his fingers threading into your hair, his other hand tilting your chin. His breath fanned against your lips, and for the first time since you met him, he wasn’t composed. He wasn’t refined.
He was desperate.
The script slipped from your fingers, landing in a forgotten heap on the floor. Then his lips were on yours, warm and insistent, tasting of wine and unspoken promises.
Your fingers found purchase against his chest, gripping the silk of his shirt as you pulled him closer. He made a noise—a low, aching sound that sent a shiver down your spine.
His hands traced the shape of your jaw, your throat, as if memorizing you in ways he hadn’t been allowed to before. He kissed you like you were the most exquisite sin he’d ever commit, like he was willing to bear the guilt if it meant he could have you.
When you finally parted, breathless and dazed, his forehead rested against yours. “Tell me this isn’t just a dream,” he murmured, voice hoarse.
You cupped his face, tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone with your thumb. “If it is, I don’t ever want to wake up.”
Vil smiled then—soft, real, breathtaking.
The next time you sat in an interview, fingers intertwined beneath the table, the answer was no longer a lie.
Because this time, when Vil looked at you like you were his entire world, it wasn’t for the cameras.
It was simply the truth.
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Masterlist ; Valentine's Event
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c4toru · 2 hours ago
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nanami reassuring his yapper wife :c
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for the past 30 minutes you’ve been ranting to him about practically everything going on in your chaotic life. nanami is mindlessly flipping through the pages of his new magazine he had just received in the mail, listening to you ramble on about how much you didn’t like the way people perceive your favorite character! ugh how could they say that ? —
he’s humming to your responses, periodically letting out ‘ohh’ s and ‘rightt’ s. you stop yourself from continuing your babbles, “ah.. nevermind i’m talking too much again.” your body shifts, facing away from him before you grab your phone off of your nightstand.
he whips his head in your direction, “keep going..? i wanna hear the rest.” he responds in confusion. “it’s okay ken, don’t wanna annoy you too much hah..” you giggle softly before you feel his tight grip onto your palm. his thumb is caressing the soft back of your hand before twiddling with your wedding ring. “love hearing you talk though, married you for a reason didn’t i. what kind of man doesn’t want to hear his pretty wife’s voice hmm?” a small smile is plastered on his face, he’s looking at you so lovingly.
you press your lips against his, “you’re so good to me, whatever shall i do when you finally get tired of me.” you smile, a big laugh leaving your mouth. “not happening.” he replies smugly, peppering another dozen of kisses onto your lips.
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a/n : i always feel like this so i decided to write something cute to make myself feel better lol | likes & reblogs appreciated !!
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ponyojujuu · 12 hours ago
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Hi 😊.
Can you write something like , Euijoo and his s/o were about to watch a movie but he couldn't take his eyes of her chest because she was wearing a white tight shirt and her titties were visible so he gets needy and start to get touchy ?
(I hope this is understandable. English is not my first language, so I sometimes get confused while writing.)
hiii! don’t worry anon! i can totally understand. euijoo definitely seems like a boob enjoyer above all else
top!euijoo x fem!reader
18+ mdni suggestive content under the cut
you have been warned
euijoo would bet on the fact that he would be able to focus no matter if you had something revealing on vs no clothes at all. if you told him you were watching a movie, that was it. but boy was he a blatant liar.
you had been wanting to watch this movie for ages, but euijoo was so busy with work you weren’t sure when the two of you would finally have time to. but that night, the time had came.
the two of you sat down on the couch all ready to watch the movie. the moment the movie began playing, you found your self to lay comfortably on euijoo’s lap. your favorite position whenever you two sat on the couch together. giving him the view of looking down at you in his lap. you thought he would’ve been used to you laying here, since you did often. and he was, just not in that top.
it was only a few seconds of comfort before euijoo’s eyes were not watching the movie. those perverted eyes of his were looking at you in the beautiful white tank top. of course you didn’t wear a bra, what need was that for if was only the two of you at home.
he clenched his knees together to avoid reacting to the way you layed in his lap, the light from the tv so perfectly glistened on your breasts that were starting to leave a vivid print in your white tee. your cleavage was just perfect too, the way you layed their allowed for a good amount to escape from your tank top.
euijoo started to grip the couches arm rest to try to distract himself. he knew how badly you wanted to watch this movie, he would feel awful if he couldn’t just control himself.
but there you were, in his lap fully distracting him from the movie. he’d hear you say a few things about the film, however he couldn’t keep up with your words. at this point doing everything he can to keep his hands at bay. but suddenly he lost that battle of holding back. you wouldn’t mind a little massage, right?
his large and slender fingers swiftly made their way to your breasts that seemed perfectly on display for him. without warning, he began massaging your chest as you lied there. you were completely taken aback as his perverted hands began touching you. “euijoo-!” you huffed in shock to his movements. although it felt good, sure, the behavior was so unlike him.
euijoo was usually so sweet, and even though you weren’t oblivious to his horny side. you were more confident in his self control. “just.. keep watching” euijoo suggested, meanwhile he had both his hands now working flawless circles to your chest. it felt good, but not to the point it distracted you from the movie so you just let him have his way for now.
euijoo was starting to get too excited, not only was he getting more turned on by the second, but he wanted more of reaction out of you. his fingers abruptly stopped massaging you comfortably and pinched your nipples fast, twisting them. a whiny moan escaped your lips and you started to feel your slit warm up as arousal began to drip out of it. you weren’t holding up calmly as much as he thought. his swift massage that turned into pinching was making it so hard to follow along with the movie.
finally you just grabbed the remote and turned it off completely. “why’d you turn it off?” euijoo would ask slyly. you stared at him with an annoyed but also needy expression. “because of your filthy hands” you snapped at him. euijoo felt a rush of embarrassment wash over him. a little blush on his cheeks, “but y/n.. they look so good how could i-” he admitted with a puppy dog like plead.
you found your boyfriend cute and gave him a nod for him to continue. this time he switched your position to lay you on the couch, shoving your shirt up and getting a mouth full of your chest now. he couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling of having your skin fill up his mouth. a weak moan left your lips as you grabbed a handful of his brown locks of hair using it as a handle to grip onto.
“what about the movie? i know you really wanted to watch it” euijoo asked you with his pink lips that were stained from sucking tour nipples. you were feeling to good and needy now. “screw the movie. now i really want you”
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raenosu · 2 days ago
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THE HEART IN PIECES
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Dazai x y/n You and Dazai get into a escalated argument and he hits you. Genre: angst Tw: violence, abuse, mentions of suicide, swearing ——————————————————————————————————————
Oh, he fucked up. Dazai fucked up. At first, it was little teasing, but then it started escalating, and now, this whole situation was a mess.
“I’m trying to protect you!” You says, almost breaking out into tears. Dazai rolls his eyes as he speaks. “I already said, I won’t try and commit again!” He argues, getting more pissed by the second.
I mean, this whole thing started because you didn’t want to see Dazai trying to die again, so you stated how you felt. And at first, he started teasing about how it didn’t matter and he would kill himself with another girl if you didn’t want to, but then, yelling began.
Your ears rang as Dazai continues yelling, you’ve never seen him this pissed before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.
As time went on, the argument did not cool down, things started getting more heated, and eventually you snap.
“It’s not my fault Oda died and now your like this!” You snap at him, and instantly, you regret what you said. You didn’t mean to, really. But you felt pressured and… yeah.
You saw Dazais eyes twist with hatred for a second before he slapped you in the face, knocking the wind out of you. Dazai instantly regretted everything. He wanted to chop off his hand now becuase he didn’t mean to do that. But it was too late.
He knew you had trauma from your family and the abuse you went through, but now he’s traumatized you even more.
nononononononononononono.
you can’t leave him. Don’t leave him. He needs you. He really needs you. “I’m s-“ he couldn’t continue his sentence. Your face, it looks so scared right now.
You try backing away from him as his arms reach out to you. Your face is stinging, it hurts.
You can’t face him the same, if he really loves you, would he be hitting you right now? Is that real love?
Dazai collapses on the ground, his face buried in his hands. One of his hands reach your pants, his small tugging somewhat warming your heart. “I-I-I’m sorry. I really am.” He sniffles, his tone clearly sad.
Could you forgive him though? Could you? You don’t have the heart to forgive him, and as much as you did want to forgive, you couldn’t.
“let’s end things here, I need time to think.” You say, heading to the door. You hear dazais sniffles through the air, and your heart breaks. You loved him, but he needed to solve his problems.
Your hands are in the door handle, and you twist it and walk out the doorway, tears streaming down your eyes.
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I got kinda lazy writing this so mb <333
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sofia-not-sophie · 3 days ago
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Help I’m thinking too hard about the unexplored world building implications of the seven kisses lead to pregnancy in a world where there seems to be/have been a patriarchy and also somehow it works interspecially despite humans and akiridions having entirely different modes of existence/bodily function
#that movie is still fucking me up (derogatory) almost four years later#like Aja overcomes a seemingly patriarchal issue of ‘princesses can’t be warriors’ that she at least thinks is systemic sexism until#she learns her mom was a warrior#but also her parents created a new global government so perhaps systemic patriarchy was a thing before they upended the old system (that#morando was trying to restore??)#but also what are the implications of this world that had make warriors predominantly but also the men got pregnant? I mean the women still#have breasts and the baby thing is quite fast so perhaps women stayed home with newborns?#and also that culture would probably have some sort of milestone associated with each kiss right? like Aja mostly didn’t care about Rules or#The Way Things Should Be Done so it makes sense she didn’t think too hard about milestones especially when surrounded by human dating cultur#BUT ALSO in the first episode(s?) the go out of their way to say that humans are biological and akiridions are ‘energy based’ so like how#does that factor into this whole shitshow?#did she maybe think the whole species thing meant she and Steve couldn’t ever have kids (which could be an issue with the whole ‘Royal’ thin#thus deserving exploration too)#and like also there’s the Aja and krel’s parents were somewhat less fertile or Aja and Krel have at least one dead sibling thing cause she#says 3 or 4 babies#and we don’t necessarily know if she and Krel were even from the same pregnancy since she consistently calls him little brother#and how do repeat pregnancies work? is it on multiples of seven or like is there something else to it?#don’t even get me started on vex having had a family (implied to be a wife and kids) nor how his relationship with Nancy will work in the#long run cause Jesus#I hate rott so much this isn’t even its worst writing decision#trollhunters rise of the titans#3below#3 below#aja tarron#krel tarron#tales of arcadia#toa
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loderlied · 3 months ago
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i need you all to know that the main reason (besides a general hunger for attention) niles even accepts aldori’s call is because he got caught stealing his student’s work and passing it off as his own and his reputation as a teacher was obviously ruined. lmao
#when i say that niles is the most envious creature i mean it#he’s watched a good handful of them become more successful with their music than he ever would be and felt that since he was basically the#reason for the success (not really. not like it’s everything it’s mostly luck but you have no real passion for this lol)#it would be fine if he had a piece of the cake too with future students. not like he immediately came to this conclusion#and felt not torn and no guilt over it.#took a while to rationalise it and all.#the envy and feelings of inadequacy and a desire for approval and fame just won over after a time#it’s not like he believes he’s better than them he just wants people’s eyes and attention on him so unbelievably bad that’s what he believes#he deserves#and at some point(s) he feels so small that he will do shit like this. he would fake having a terminal illness too lol#he’s just a loser. niles’ story is supposed to be a horror comedy style thing and the majority of the comedy comes from that fact lol#oc: niles#honestly? can relate on the parts of being a loser who is only ever mediocre at something creative they do.#for me i don’t think it’s for the same reasons as niles especially don’t care about fame or shit like that lol#and i obviously don’t steal shit even if my ocd tells me the exact opposite so much#that i actually hesitated to post this because i thought people would assume that i steal too because he’s my character#and your ocs always have a part of yourself in them and what if people found out that i was stealing i just didn’t know and. hi.#can you tell that i’m a fear based writer. i write about my fears. hi#anyways. and then kingmaker and fae mpreg happens. yay
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