#MALE reader

[prael]

Day 6: Revenge Or Fate

IOI/Gugudan Sejeong x male reader smut

words: 5,611 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"What's that look for?" you ask with all the whimsy you can muster. "I only said that I bought your favourite popcorn. Why are you staring at me as if I just got down on one knee and proposed?"

"You did say you'd marry me someday," Sejeong jokes. Then she does that thing she always does when she's nervous—tugging at the lobe of her ear.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah. I mean when we are both in our sixties. When you have become the crazy cat lady and I the bachelor with a penchant for wine and cigarettes. It's not even close to that time yet."

"Why would you be smoking?" Sejeong wrinkles her nose. She knows you can't stand the smell.

"Because I'll be an ageing bachelor, duh," you answer with a dismissive wave of a hand as you sit by her on the couch. She's got her legs curled up against her chest, the way she always does when it's cold outside. You'd know—she's been sitting like that on your couch every winter since the beginning of time.

She lets out the softest of laughs before it quickly dissipates into silence. She's staring across the room, but not really looking at anything. Her face is painted in melancholy. You know her well enough to know that look, and you hate it. Hate everything it represents. You sigh. The first time you saw her like this was back as teenagers, after the dog she grew up with had been hit by a car. It still hurts your chest.

"You've got that look again," you tell her. "Like there's a million and one things in your mind and none of them particularly good."

"I'm okay. Just tired." Sejeong's smile doesn't quite convince you.

"I wasn't going to say anything. I thought you'd tell me if you wanted me to know, but it's been months since you asked me to come over on a Friday night, so something has happened. I haven't seen this much annoyance behind your eyes since the end of Game Of Thrones. What is it?"

"I'm just feeling overwhelmed, that's all. I wish you weren't so observant."

"You should be used to it by now."

Sejeong flashes a half-hearted smile and takes hold of your hand as she used to do when you were kids. You feel guilty for the way your stomach flutters.

"I guess we have always known each other better than anyone else," she admits, her hand still clasped around yours. It's warm and familiar. You feel the urge to push away, but how can you? It would give far too much away. She has always had this effect on you—you could never distance yourself from her warmth. "He's an asshole."

"You don't need to tell me twice," you chuckle. Then: "Tell me what happened."

"I think he might be cheating."

The air escapes from you at once. The way Sejeong said it is so casual, almost as if she'd resigned herself to this fate a long time ago. And here you are, trying your best to keep your anger under control, like always. But not for her sake—rather, for yours. You know where your feelings belong, and they have no place in the situation at hand. Not today, and definitely not ever. You take a deep breath and look her square in the eye.

"What did he do?"

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," she laughs nervously. She doesn't want to put any more weight on your shoulders than she already has, because that's who she is, you suppose. But how can she expect you to ignore it when she looks like a sad dog staring into the rain on someone's front porch?

"We're best friends. I want to hear everything," you insist.

"He's been acting differently lately." Sejeong pauses. "Distant. Like there's something he isn't telling me."

"Do you think there might be?" you ask carefully.

"It's always something with work. Or a friend that really needs him. Or a family member or—fuck. I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

Sejeong sighs and runs a hand through her hair. There are unshed tears in her eyes. This bastard is making her cry. You want to smash something, preferably his head.

"I don't wanna bother you with this shit," she whispers. She sounds exhausted.

"Don't say that," you retort softly, squeezing her hand in yours. It's clammy. "Don't ever say that again."

She gives a curt nod.

"God knows I've told you enough about my romantic misadventures over the years," you joke. Your chest tightens when Sejeong lets out the tiniest of laughs. Maybe you can still make this right, whatever this is. "Misery loves company."

"You know," she begins, pausing to look at you properly. There is something unreadable in her gaze, something that you've never seen before. It makes you hold your breath in anticipation of whatever is to come. "If there's one person I could choose to be miserable with, it would be you."

For a brief second, you forget that time exists.

"Well, I'm very honoured," you reply eventually. There's another pause where you ponder what to say next. Then, simply, because that seems like the easiest answer: "Do you want me to go beat him up?"

Sejeong laughs and punches you in the arm.

"I thought you were a pacifist?"

"Yeah, but exceptions must be made sometimes."

She raises an eyebrow at you. You can't tell what she's thinking. "For me?"

"Yes."

It feels like standing on a cliff. You want nothing more than to jump, to feel freefall in your whole body. The only problem is that you'll most certainly die. The ground below is made of jagged rocks and bad ideas. Yet, here you stand, willing to do anything in the world for the beautiful girl next to you. Even if it means lying broken beyond repair.

Sejeong breaks your trance when she explains, "There's this girl he works with. We had dinner together with some people from their office two weeks ago, and... I don't know. They just seemed off. She kept looking at him. You know that look? The one where they linger on someone just a bit too long."

"So that's what gave it away?"

"Well, that and the rumour. They had a thing before he met me. It's over now, or it was." A single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, seemingly irritated at herself. You frown. Sejeong has no reason to be ashamed of being hurt. She should be allowed to shed tears, even buckets full if necessary. You wouldn't judge. "At least that's what he said. He promised me it was over. But... God."

You reach forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her lips tremble, so you quickly move your eyes back up. Staring at her lips is dangerous territory.

"You don't deserve this shit," you say resolutely.

Sejeong chuckles sarcastically. "Then why do I keep ending up here?"

That question stings. Not because it's directed at you—it isn't—but rather because you know the answer. Sejeong has been in this kind of position too many times to count. She attracts guys like honey does flies; every single time, with no exceptions. Only the worst seem to make it past the rest. Sejeong gets caught in their deceitful net time and time again, only to inevitably break her heart after months and months of manipulation disguised as devotion.

"Want my honest answer?"

"Yes."

"I think it's because you're the sort of person that believes the best in everyone. And that is a beautiful trait. I love that you do that. I really do. But sometimes..." you trail off, not quite sure how to continue without sounding accusatory.

"Sometimes I get screwed over," Sejeong finishes. You nod in response. "You're right. I guess it's my fault for trusting too easily."

"No," you shake your head. "It's not your fault. That part is absolutely wonderful. It's just..." You're suddenly hesitant. What if Sejeong takes this the wrong way and shuts you out?

"What?" she probes.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'you can't see the tree for the woods'?"

"Sounds stupid."

"It means you can't see what's right in front of your nose," you explain.

Sejeong stares at you for a long time. You think she understands, but it's impossible to know. It would probably be better that way—if she understood and did nothing about it. You aren't supposed to feel this way about her. How many times haven't you imagined what it would be like if things were different? If circumstances were perfect, if her current guy hadn't appeared out of anywhere and swept her off her feet before you'd even realised what was happening.

But that's just your luck.

"Thank you," Sejeong whispers. "Can we, um, watch something? I don't wanna think about this right now."

You let out an awkward cough. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Do you remember when you forced me to watch Twilight, and I spent the entirety of the movie complaining about how terrible it was?"

"You still watched all of them with me." A tiny grin appears on her face. Thank God.

"That was truly the highest form of torture," you joke. "I hope you brought something better today. Please don't tell me you downloaded another movie about sparkly vampires."

Sejeong punches your arm. "I'll have you know I am extremely cultured nowadays."

"Yeah? Show me then."

A couple of hours pass and everything feels decidedly normal. You rest against the arm of the couch and Sejeong rests against you. You make jokes at the expense of the film as you always do and she laughs that soft, carefree laugh of hers. The credits roll and Sejeong sits up, stretching her limbs like a cat after a nap. You smile at the familiarity of it all. For a moment it doesn't matter what she has—or hasn't—been crying over.

"I'm tired," she says. She blinks slowly as if to prove it to herself. It's quite endearing, actually.

"Yeah?" you ask nonchalantly.

"Will you let me stay here tonight?" Her voice is small, unsure. But why? It's not the first time she has stayed here. This place is practically a second home to her.

"Like you need to ask," you retort lightly as you stand up and look down at her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but that's when her phone rings. When she sees his name flashing across the screen, she visibly freezes. Annoyance seeps into you like acid rain. His nerve—to call at such an hour, and expect her to pick up. Sejeong just watches, almost paralyzed, until eventually, she does pick up.

"Hey," is all she says. The reply is much longer. You can't make out the words he's saying but the tone tells you all you need to know.

"I was going to," Sejeong replies tersely. Silence. Then: "I told you already, I went over to—" Pause. She swallows thickly. "You didn't tell me you were going out." A longer stretch of silence, during which his voice gradually increases in volume. Suddenly Sejeong sits bolt upright. Her eyes grow wide with confusion and disbelief.

"Me!?" She shouts. "He's my best friend! I wouldn't—" Another pause. She takes a deep breath. "No. No, that isn't fair. You can't—"

It sounds like he hangs up. Sejeong doesn't move. Her hands are shaking violently.

"Do I even wanna know?"

"I should go home," she murmurs flatly.

"To him? To the guy who's probably just fucked his co-worker?"

Sejeong turns to glare at you, eyes cold as ice. You immediately regret your words.

"I'm sorry," you quickly amend. "That was uncalled for. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" she asks bluntly. Your heartbeat picks up in a hurry. There's anger in her eyes. Anger that could turn against you so quickly.

"Why what?" you reply defensively.

"Why don't you wanna be with anyone? You've rejected every single person who's tried to get close to you since we were sixteen. There's got to be a reason."

The world grinds to a halt. Time, space, and life itself stop existing for a minute while you consider your options. On the one hand, you could lie; come up with a suitable excuse and maybe she won't push for more. On the other hand, you could simply admit to the truth that's haunted you for years.

You open your mouth. Close it. Fuck.

Sejeong stands up, wading in the silence towards you. You can't help but take a step backwards. In that split second, you're sure she knows—and yet you cannot tell.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" Sejeong demands to know.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears. "I don't understand why you're asking me this," you choke out. A part of you wishes you were back there on the cliff. At least then you could've jumped off of your own accord, with a little dignity left intact.

"I need to know," is all Sejeong says. Her gaze is relentless. You hate it. It makes you want to claw your own skin off—and there are truths under there that you plan to take to the grave.

"Why?"

"Because I need to know if what I'm going to do next is the right thing."

She stands beside you now. On the edge of that cliff, though it's starting to feel more like you're on the roof of your car. Staring up at the stars on some forgotten summer night. The jump seems more like a flight.

"I have," you admit. Somehow it seems easier than to try and fight whatever force is controlling the both of you. It feels strangely liberating.

"But you won't allow yourself to do anything about it." You know her well enough to discern a question from a statement, no matter how carefully she might try to veil them as the latter.

"It's complicated," you say quietly. She's so close to you now that you can hear the hitch in her breath. Why is she pushing this? "Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes flit from yours to your lips, then back again. So quickly. One, two. But you saw it. And your entire body tingles in anticipation. You'll dare move away—not now, not when the leap of faith feels more like a hop.

She doesn't say anything else. One more small step and her body collides with yours. Lips press against lips and suddenly, all thought scatters. Sejeong tangles her fingers through your hair and pulls. A gasp escapes you before you regain control and kiss her properly. It's frantic, rushed. Years of pining bleed out with every touch. You grab her, pull her as close to your body as possible, and lose yourself completely. Something is swelling inside you. A feeling so large and uncontainable that you think your chest is going to explode any second.

It is indescribable.

All of it—the sensation of kissing her, holding her—surpasses description. You're falling from that cliff, but she's holding you, and before you can hit the rocks she's dragging you to the couch and climbing on top of you.

It feels unreal. The entire world disappears as your lips find hers again and again and again. You don't care to question what happens after. This moment is yours, forever branded in your memories, and nothing can take that away from you. Even if it ends here—even if she were to walk away now—it would've been worth it. Completely and irrevocably.

When you finally part to catch your breath, you can't help but stare at her in awe. She's so beautiful. A masterpiece. Your hand moves to her cheek almost automatically. Sejeong lets her head fall against it with a soft sigh.

"Wow," she whispers.

"Yeah," you croak.

"Please don't regret this in the morning." Her voice is so quiet, filled with so much pain, that it breaks your heart. Your own fears are secondary.

"I never could," you breathe. Then you lean in to kiss her again, slower this time, savouring every sensation as if it might be the last. By some miracle she responds eagerly, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt as she holds you steady. You have no idea where this leaves the two of you, but you want her closer—now. You reach around and slide your hands under her thighs, pulling gently upwards. She follows your lead, settling against your lap in a way that makes the situation undeniably real.

As you kiss, her hips start moving back and forth. Soft, shallow movements. Little whimpers escape her throat and fall directly into your mouth. Fuck. She moans—actually moans—into the kiss and a violent shiver travels through your whole body. You break away momentarily to look at her face, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes staring back at you.

"Do that again," you whisper against her lips.

"Make me," she pants.

The next kiss is searing, open-mouthed, and accompanied by Sejeong grinding her hips against you. Harder now. Unrelenting. Your hands travel up her waist, slipping beneath her blouse to feel warm skin underneath. You feel every tremble of her body when your fingernails drag lightly across her flesh. A gasp—then she leans backwards, with her arms outstretched and clinging behind your neck, to look you dead in the eye as she continues moving her hips against you.

"Sejeong... What are we—"

"Shh."

Your hands snake further up her shirt. Her back arches in response as she grinds down hard, moaning loudly. Your eyes flutter shut briefly to enjoy the sensations—the sounds—coming from her. You force them open once more because you can't miss this show for anything. You push the shirt up and over her chest. Her hands slip from behind your neck momentarily so that you can get the garment over her head. And then she is there before you, bra and sweatpants-clad, panting softly and waiting.

"Sejeong—"

"Fuck me." It is barely more than a whimper, but it rattles the very core of your being.

"What?"

She lunges forward and kisses you forcefully. There are tears in her eyes—tears you didn't notice until now. Her desperation bleeds through.

"Please," she whispers into your mouth, her voice breaking slightly. "Please."

You can't deny her. How could you? You're unfastening the clasp of her bra and your hands are everywhere on her. Pulling her closer, exploring every inch of bare skin you can get your hands on. Her fingers start unbuttoning your shirt—clumsily, but getting the job done. Once open, her nails dig into your bare shoulders, as if testing out whether you're really here, tangible and real. As if you could disappear at any moment and leave her stranded. A loud groan escapes her when your fingers brush against her nipples.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you murmur into her ear. She whines at the words, nails digging deeper into your skin.

The friction between your legs is driving you mad. You've got the burning urge to pick her up and slam her into the nearest wall, but you savour what you have. First, you kiss her neck, then it's a trail down her collarbones. Your teeth nibble playfully at the skin until she moans, begging you to do something. You obey, leaning in to flick your tongue across a nipple before swirling it around the bud. Her fingers fly into your hair and hold you against her breast.

"Holy shit."

Your mouth latches on tighter. Sucking. Biting. The heat pooling between you grows more intense. Eventually, you detach and move on to the next, eliciting more delicious sounds from the girl above you. All those nights spent fantasising about exactly this don't come close to the real experience. You're supporting her, around the waist and the small of her back, while she leans back in your lap, presenting herself to you.

You appreciate every inch of her slender figure. By eye and then by tongue. You draw constellations along her skin, your touch is feather-light. Across her toned stomach to her hips, then right up the side of her body. She throws an arm above her head and giggles lightly as you lick all the way up underneath it. You follow a path to her armpit. Sejeong giggles more when you begin to nibble there too. When you raise your eyes to meet hers she blushes fiercely.

"Weirdo."

"Just appreciating you," you murmur, pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and up to her neck.

"Mm. I like it," she replies hoarsely.

So you spend some time like this. Appreciating her bare body and making her squirm. Kissing, licking, and biting everything that you can possibly reach until her writhing becomes borderline violent. Then she grabs a hold of your jaw, looks you deep in the eyes, and utters the most sinful words you've ever heard her say.

"Enough teasing. I want to ride your cock now."

Every inch of you lights on fire. From your forehead to the tips of your toes, you feel flames lick at your insides. Sejeong climbs off you without another word and starts pushing her sweats from her hips. You watch, spellbound, as she wiggles out of them. Her panties follow suit.

Then she turns to face you. Standing fully nude, absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word. A goddess. Every bit as perfect as you had imagined. Even your fantasies weren't this good; nowhere near as intoxicating as this moment right now.

"You have ten seconds before I sit on your face instead," she deadpans, you both laugh. At least she hasn't lost her humour.

You unbuckle your belt and shuffle them down as best you can while still seated. Enough that she can reach down and pull your cock free from its confines. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when she wraps her slim fingers around it. Pumping up and down. You're hard already, unbelievably so, and when she drags her thumb across the head of your dick it actually twitches. You suck in a deep breath, willing yourself to focus.

And then she sits on your lap, sliding along the length of your cock. Fuck. She repeats it a few times. Back and forth, slicking your cock with her wetness.

"I always pictured this," she admits.

"Really?" you croak.

"God yeah, I remember back in college. I must have rubbed one out to you more times than I can count." She smirks at you then—a wicked smirk that makes your entire body shiver. A filthy admission to you and you only. She does it again, drags her wetness along you. How on earth are you supposed to remain composed when she says things like that and does things like this? You wrap an arm around her back and pull her closer, staring at her as if seeing her for the very first time.

"You can't say things like that, I'm gonna—"

She cuts you off with her tongue in your mouth. Kissing you like it's the last thing she'll ever do, and your lips the only form of sustenance she'll ever need. It gives way to her frantic little moan, desperate and unrestrained. For the life of you you can't comprehend what is happening, only react, and fuck if it isn't the most incredible experience you've ever had. Her skin is burning against yours, hungry and yielding to your every touch.

Sejeong shifts slightly and grabs a hold of you properly. Your eyes widen when the tip of your dick brushes against something wet, warm, and soft. The very centre of her. She repositions herself, now holding you carefully against her, and then... slides down the length of your cock, pausing halfway down. The pleasure is so acute that you cannot control the way your back arches off the couch, and neither do you control the profanities that spill out from your lips.

A sinful grin spreads across her face. As her legs are pinned around your waist, you cannot move, but Sejeong certainly can. And boy, does she know how. She starts bouncing herself up and down, riding you so expertly and looking so good doing it. You've thought of this so many times—having sex with your best friend, of all people—but you did not picture it like this.

"This okay?" she murmurs in your ear. You hear the smile in her voice.

You utter the only word you can muster: "Yes."

She laughs airily, placing a kiss on your temple as she continues her rhythm. When she moans—a long, drawn-out moan, half-pained, half-pleasured—and throws her head back, you stare up at her, eyes drinking in the beauty that is in a position so incredibly vulnerable yet completely in control. How you long to capture this moment and keep it somewhere safe forever. She looks down at you now. Her heavy-lidded eyes pin you to your spot as much as the physical manifestation of her pinned against your skin. She traces her fingers down your jaw, your neck, and the top of your chest.

"I wish he could see me now," Sejeong hisses, anguish evident in her voice.

"You look so fucking good."

"He doesn't know what he had," she laughs bitterly. "Fuck him."

"Fuck him," you echo. Sejeong smirks and moves her hips more fluidly. Goddamn. Her tight little cunt feels so perfect clenched around your cock.

She watches your face closely as she keeps riding you. As you keep clutching her hips and help her along, grinding deeper. Groaning when she throws her hips forward faster and faster. Her cunt is so hot and tight. She sucks at the life seeping out of your pulsating cock and squeezes it with her inner muscles in ways that no one has ever done before. Sometimes she pulls completely off you, her breath shuddering as you twitch, only to take you deep inside her again.

Your hands have a mind of their own, sneaking upwards to grip her neck. You give it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention. All the while you're staring intensely into her eyes. They've become glassy, intoxicated, more than just wanting but longing for it. Her voice is hoarse, strained, as she says, "How have I been so stupid? All this time—you're right here, and I never—"

"It doesn't matter. None of that matters."

"You're so—fuck."

Her body trembles and she falls forward onto you. She's gripping your arms, nails sinking into your flesh. Sejeong's breath grows increasingly laboured. After a long string of expletives, she lets her head rest on your shoulder as you snake an arm around her back and support her. Her whole body is rigid, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

"Never felt this good," she forces the words out amid moans as you buck your hips up into her, picking up the slack as she begins to falter. The rhythm is quick now, urgent, filled with unbridled passion and everything left unspoken for too long.

When Sejeong cums, you feel it all around you—her pussy quivering, leaking her arousal around you, dripping down your thighs and saturating you, almost drowning in the intensity. It makes her moan into the crook of your neck and rock her hips, fucking herself while trying desperately to quiet the sounds of her ecstasy against your body. But that is unthinkable, to silence someone like that, and you tell her so. Whispering the filthiest things in her ear as she throbs around your cock, dragging out the last tremors of pleasure of her orgasm as much as you possibly can. She spills everything out into your shoulder, every word, every whimper. Until at last, you can feel her sagging in your lap, breathing heavily and spent.

"Keep going," she pants, tightening her grip on your arm. "Don't stop."

She throws herself to the side, pulling you with her, and somehow lands flat on her back with your body on top of her. You wince at the sudden shift. But not for long. Because Sejeong opens her legs wide, hooks her calves around your hips, and tells you again not to stop.

You smirk and lean forward, trapping her beneath your body and capturing her lips in a sensual kiss. It is deliberate, lingering. Her arms fly up and tangle themselves through your hair, locking you together. When your tongues meet, you sigh deeply against her. There is a warmth settling over you. Languid, dream-like. Like you're both floating through clouds, carried away by the sweetest of breezes.

There is nowhere else in the world that you would rather be than right here, between her legs.

You rock into her, once, then twice, each time more intense than the last. The angle is entirely different. You grab a hold of one of her legs and hitch it up a bit, allowing yourself to thrust deeper inside her.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm. Move slower. Nice and slow," she instructs.

And you do. Eventually, a hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck. Sejeong stares into your eyes and your breath catches. Then you're kissing, again and again, but there is not so much desperation and anger anymore, but something else. It is the feel of her hips meeting yours, the way you press your bodies together, the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breaths rush from her lips to yours, from hers into you.

Sweat starts to bead at your temples as you rock into her. Slow, deep, patient strokes. It is not desperate fucking anymore, or an attempt to pour all of your heartbreak into some meaningless action. It's almost reverential—the way you're holding each other, soft and sure. A sweet torture, a sublime suffering, for as long as time allows.

You don't talk. Your mouths say nothing, at least. With your bodies, however, your fingertips whisper praise against her skin. Spirits float free and serenade each other. Sounds escape her that you haven't even dreamed of. Broken, wanton, as if wrenched out of her. They rise above and meet in a higher plane of reality, where two minds are one.

It takes time. A slow build to the crescendo. You know when you've struck the final note by the way she cries out, over and over again, her pretty little hole convulsing, spasming around your cock. She wants to squirm away but has nowhere to go. You refuse to let her. You smile against her neck and sink your teeth into the skin there.

Soon you follow, groaning her name into the warm flesh. It's a flood—your insides are melting, pouring out from your loins and into her heat, her insides contracting, trapping every ounce inside. Hot, sticky, yours. This feeling. It is as if your heart has grown wings, a phoenix born anew from the ashes of who you used to be. You don't have to be lost anymore. She will carry you, always, her fingernails tracing patterns in your damp skin. There is nothing to fear.

Sejeong whines and moans softly as you fill her. One more careful thrust and you still, collapsing on top of her as the waves subside. All the while she is there, stroking the back of your neck and quietly reciting every piece of filth that she can think of.

You wonder whether this will last longer than the night.

God. Would you be okay with that?

When you eventually move back to look at her, to make sure she's okay, there are tears in her eyes. Uncertainty overwhelms you. Before you can react, before you can ask what is wrong, Sejeong cups your cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. This girl. All these years. All the wasted time. It feels right being with her; everything is finally where it should have been all along.

"You were worth the wait," you breathe. You place a kiss against her brow before rolling off and settling next to her.

"Do you..." Her voice fades. She runs a finger along your collarbone, eyes anywhere but yours. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing?

"No," you answer without hesitation. You catch her hand in yours, entangling your fingers, willing her to understand everything that you're unable to tell her.

Sejeong smiles. Genuine, unapologetic. For the first time in months, she looks happy. Fuck him, indeed. "Good," she says with a soft laugh that evaporates any of her lingering doubts. Her eyes flick to your lips and she whispers, "So, uh, we've got some lost time to make up for."

"Yeah?" you whisper while rolling her back over and climbing over her. "If there's a debt to be paid..." You start trailing kisses down her neck, down her sternum, grinning at the tiny shivers it elicits. "What better time than now?"

Your kisses lead you over her toned stomach. Once you reach the juncture between her thighs, you pick up her leg and set it over your shoulder. Sejeong is already squirming, anticipating what is to come. You take a look at her—mussed hair and flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, beautiful, tempting. It feels almost gratuitous—that you're able to see her like this. It makes you pull her even closer, and stick your tongue into her center. Her upper body lifts almost immediately and her eyes fly open. A shaky whimper leaves her lips.

She's right. There is a lot of catching up to do. Luckily for her, there's still the whole night ahead of you and a lot more you'd like to show her.

[thedropsofblood]

A wolf in hunter's clothing

Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.

Word count: 8k

Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs

Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.

Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.

As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.

It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?

The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.

It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?

.

.

.

Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?

Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...

You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?

Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?

You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.

"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.

"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.

"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.

Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.

"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."

The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.

You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."

You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.

"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.

This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.

Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.

That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.

You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."

You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.

"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.

Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.

You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.

He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...

[satkru]

੭* ‧₊° ichigo kurosaki x male reader

*๑♡՞ . rough sex , enemies to lovers , barely legal adults , little to no respect for one another during sex , raw sex , public sex

p.s . i have literally little to no idea how accurate my writing abt ichigo will be as i've really only watched the series until like ep 8-9(??) i'll probably pick it back up once i find the motivation to but rn im freeballing this 💔

ichigo and y/n had a rivalry known throughout the entirety of the whole school. a rivalry so bad that the administration of the school had to put them on two different floors with two different schedules in order for them to not engage with one another, otherwise it would end in an intense scrabble of sorts.

but that still didnt stop the two from sharing nasty glares at one another from time to time, no one really knew how they started such a rival-ship, but some just say that they stepped on the wrong foot and never recovered from it.

the true reason for such an intense relationship is that they both had an eye for the lovely lady known as Orihime. Her gorgeous orange eyes paired with her flowy ginger hair was a match made in heaven. Both of them could not keep their eyes off of that girl.

but one faithful day, after school had ended and the halls were empty. the two were set up to clean the rooms, with a teacher on the scene of course. Each time they came close to the others proximity, it was like watching two territorial dogs growling at each other, waiting for the other to strike.

but that strike never came as long as the professor was around. Eventually, the period of peace had to come to an end, as the teacher exclaimed they needed to use the restroom. "dont you two dare lay a hand on each other while im gone, or else you two are suspended for the rest of the year", the words burned into the nerves of the two.

"so, do you still like orihime" y/n asked as he swept the remaining dust on the floor, "why is that any of your business" ichigo spat out, a hint of anger laced his tone. "just wondering, you know. she has been looking at me twice now".

ichigo gripped onto the handle of his own broom, trying to contain his anger. "shes been getting quite.. close, to me" y/n said with a chuckle, he knew what he was doing was ticking off his rival, but the sensation of pissing someone off just called to him.

"she asked me to go to her house today, but dont worry, i'll make sure to save some space for you" kurosaki couldnt hold his jealously anymore, although he knew y/n was bluffing, the thought of him with his crush agitated him. and with that, he found himself throwing the broom across the room, almost hitting y/n in the process.

the man grinned, an annoying feature ichigo had always hated whenever he and y/n got into disputes. "uh oh, did i make sweet kurosaki angryy" y/n said with fake innocence in his voice, pouting his lip and laying a finger on his chin to enhance his "sweetness".

"shut your mouth already" kurosaki growled, his hands clenched into fists as he watched y/n continue to piss him off. "you'll never be with such a girl, soon enough, she'll be begging for me and my dick soon, her pussy will remember the shape of me and make enough room to fit me. she'll never think of you again after i go over to her house."

each word out of y/n's mouth pissed ichigo more off than before, his eyes were glued to the floor to not meet eyes, otherwise, the situation would get out of hand. the teasing man began walking towards kurosaki, his face still in an annoyingly smug expression.

"c'mon kurosaki, look at me, remember my face for the rest of your goddamn life. remember that i'll be the one taking care of who you thought was going to be your future wife." ichigo couldnt take the amount of disrespect he was experiencing, causing him to throw an unexpected punch towards y/n, making him fall to the floor with blood dripping from his nose.

although it was sudden, y/n expected such a reaction, this was all apart of his plan of course. ichigo reached down and grabbed y/n by the throat and pulled him up so they could be eye to eye. "you fucking bitch, youre getting me all riled up for what? huh? do you get off of this?" y/n chuckled dryly, "and what if i do?". such a response threw ichigo off guard, causing him to receive a heavy punch to his cheek.

"dont tell me youre gonna kink shame me, kuro" ichigo steadily hoisted himself up with the help of the desks, his breath more heavy than before. "god do you ever stop talking" the ginger haired man whispered under his breath, barely audible but still loud enough to be caught by y/n's hearing. "dont be so mean ichi-" before he could finish his sentence, kurosaki lunged forward and managed to grab a hold of y/n's hair, twisting his hair enough and slamming his face into the desk.

"i can see you've gotten a bit more intelligent when it comes to fighting now, is that black haired girl training you?" kurosaki froze, how the fuck did he know about rukia? ichigo tumbled over his words, trying to make up excuses and babbling on about stories that made no sense. "you know, there is a way to keep me from outing you" y/n said, his voice drenched in hunger and lust. the ginger sneered, "oh fuck it"

and with that, ichigo hurriedly unbuckled his belt and shuffled his boxers down. leaving no room for hesitance, "god, all of your teasing has made me rock fucking solid.." kurosaki said as he watched his own cock puylse and twitch. y/n hummed as he too began to undress his lower half, slipping ichigo's hard on between his ass.

"i cant take anymore of your games" ichigo growled as he then thrusted himself into his once rival, earning a loud moan from him. each thrust was ravenous, filled to the brim with both anger and frustration. "youre so tight.." kurosaki groaned, his hand intangled with y/n's hair strand then sharply pulled back, earning another ear piercing moan.

"yes..! just like that ichigo! fuck me harder!!" y/n screamed as he reached back to spread his ass more, helping ichigo's long and hard cock reach more places y/n didn't even think could be reached. both kurosaki's and y/n's loud and lustful noises could be heard throughout the entirety of the hallway.

"you never were actually after orihime were you.. fuck.. you were after me" ichigo said with a strained voice, his time was ticking and he knew it. y/n's obnoxiously loud noises never quieted down, instead, they grew louder, more hungry for action. "use me ichigo! use me as if im your sweet orihime! fuck my ass as if its her pussy!" y/n yelled on the top of his lungs, his body was becoming heavier and sweat drenched him entirely.

"im cumming..! goddamn your tight ass feels too good!" kurosaki exclaimed as his grip on y/n's hip grew tighter, and his hand incased in the locks of his rival began to waver in strength. "youre going to take my cum.. like the slut you are. do you hear me?" y/n eagerly nodded, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to untie.

with a few more ass-reddening thrusts, ichigo's load quickly filled y/n's hole, traveling deep through his guts. as ichigo was dumping his cum into y/n's ass, the once smug and arrogant man was at his own witts end. spreading his own cum across the desk in front of him and crying out in pure bliss.

the two men stood in silence, the only thing heard being heavy breathing and the squelching of cum escaping y/n's ass. "dont think.. that im done with you yet y/n.. meet me at my house tonight, 10pm sharp.. got it?" ichigo said between huffs. "got it..!" y/n said with cheerfulness in his tone. he'd finally gotten what he was hoping more, good for him.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

OH SHIT UH baizhu x monster reader because I've been thinking about him lately. maybe something dubcon-y? I love pathetic men whimpering and crying 🎃

Author's Note: My mind went places, y'all… very horny places. 💀

Pairings: Baizhu x male reader

Warnings: Male plant monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Baizhu, sort of gullible Baizhu, dubcon, handjob, facial, riding, aphrodisiac, mild dumbification

Why he had to run out of this particular herb was beyond him. As if that wasn't annoying enough, his suppliers were out of stock and wouldn't be able to ship him any more. The location of this herb has become increasingly dangerous, and no one could figure out why the men sent to gather these herbs came back… weird, to say the least. Nonetheless, Baizhu needed those herbs to treat his patients.

Was it a stupid idea to travel out there by himself and gather them by hand; yes, most certainly, and Changsheng told him as much, but a doctor's mind is a puzzling thing.

And that's how he ended up here; in the high mountains of Chenyu Vale. Normally, one would expect to run into a few monsters, at the very least, but Baizhu had yet to see a single one during his trek. There were plenty of other creatures, and the foliage didn't seem withered, so it's not as if this place was devoid of life nor on a biological decline—there was simply a lack of danger. Which is a strange occurrence, considering the reports he'd read…

That fact really should be comforting to the frail doctor, but in truth, it made a shiver run down his spine. His eyes nervously scanned over the immediate grassy grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the herb he so desperately needed — desperate enough to set foot on this mountain alone.

It took a bit more searching, but the herb in question was flourishing just around the back of one particular mountain. Baizhu carefully made his way towards the area, picking one herb and inspecting it to check its quality and that it was, in fact, the correct herb. Picking a few more, Baizhu comes across one plant that refuses to be plucked — an unusually tough herb, resisting his attempts to yank it out from the dirt.

As he goes to inspect the stem, a soft voice cries out; “U-um… excuse me? Could you help me…?” Looking over his shoulder, the doctor spots a person's head sticking up out of the ground—except their skin has a pale green hue to it, and as this person rises up, he notices how the ground around them shifts; as though the ground is a part of them.

Baizhu turns halfway, cautiously keeping an eye on you as he questions, “…What do you need help with?” The way your body flows effortlessly when you move—creating ripples in the immediate area around your torso—piques Baizhu's curiosity.

“O-oh! Um… it's a little embarrassing, if I'm being honest, sir…” you begin, “As you've probably guessed, I am not a human — think of me as a type of dendro spirit, I guess? Uh, anyways, there's this…ritual, of sorts, that only a human can help me with–”

The whole time you're explaining this predicament of yours, Baizhu keeps a watchful eye on you to make sure you're not tricking him. Even though you come across as rather sheepish.

“…I understand if you don't trust me, I just don't know what else to do…humans don't come around here too often, and the pain has become so much worse–”

“I'll help you.” He interjects. The sparkles in your eyes force him to hold back a chuckle as you thank him a million times over. “Please take me to this plant of yours.”

You excitedly take off, essentially a torso and head gliding halfway inside the ground, while this kind human with green hair trails just behind. Arriving at your destination, Baizhu kneels down, giving you a glance, and you return it nervously.

Baizhu eyes the plant inquisitively, staring at the odd shape and strange fleshy texture of the whole thing.

“Go on, doctor, I-I'm ready…” you prompt, giving the man a shy smile to mask your nerves.

With a quick breath to strengthen his resolve, the doctor raises his hands, wrapping them both around the plant and lightly squeezing it until a wet substance seeps out through the petals. “A-ah! aAh-” you gasp suddenly.

“I'm sorry—did that hurt?!”

You shake your head, nearly whimpering as you try to assure him, “N-no… just surprised me. Your hands… they're a bit cold…”

“My apologies, they should warm up soon enough. Shall we keep going?” Said like a true doctor. This stranger with kind eyes has been nothing but gentle with you so far, helping out a non-human creature whom he only met a few minutes ago, even if he finds your request a tad strange.

More wetness falls down his hands, pouring from the plant the more he squeezes and twists his hands around the elongated object. He experimentally moves his hands to other areas, and when Baizhu's thumbs rub and press on the tip of the plant, you're unable to hold back a sharp intake of air. Your eyes roll back momentarily, and you chomp down on your lower lip to conceal the noises threatening to escape.

The doctor eyes your pained expressions with worry written all over his face. “It's… fine — I'm fine. The pain… is not that bad… please, don't stop, doctor.”

As you wish, Baizhu milks more and more liquid from the plant, creating a pool of it underneath the stem of the plant—gradually creeping towards his knees and threatening to soak his pants. For the most part, it feels and looks like regular water, but there's a faint sensation of stickiness on his palms, close to the surface of the plant.

While this is supposed to be a medical procedure, Baizhu can't help feeling a bit… embarrassed by the whole situation. This plant of yours—it is a bit phallic. Not to mention how the method used to wring out the liquid is akin to… uh, a specific hand movement performed on phallic objects. The suggestive sounds coming from your mouth don't help that either. Baizhu can't ignore you when you moan out “Faster… faster, doctor- aah~ Keep stroking it like that… it's definitely woRKING-!”

The more Baizhu watches himself squeeze the glistening liquid from your plant, the deeper into a trance he falls — soon enough he's fallen so deep that he shamelessly jerks off the phallic plant until the tip opens up and explodes like a volcano; shooting thick, honey-like ropes all over Baizhu's pretty face.

The substance drips all down his features — clumping in strands of hair, clinging to his glasses, dripping from his nose and chin, and even a little sliding into his open mouth. “A-ah! Y-you… you did it… you made me release it all, doctor~” you comment — your words are the only thing penetrating that fuzzy mind of his right now. “Thank you soooo much~ But, could I trouble you with one more thing?” you lean forward, gently holding the doctor's chin so that he can't turn away from you. “Won't you help me again? It's the only way for me to feel all better.”

“Aah…? I don't… understand…” Baizhu breathes, confused and seemingly in a daze. It's such a precious sight to behold, really.

You reach out and slide a hand up and down the doctor's stomach, teasingly pushing his top up a few times before moving towards the edge of his pants. “You'll help me, won't you? You're such a kind doctor, after all~” you remind him. Baizhu's pants are quickly yanked down, removed the rest of the way by vines that the good doctor never noticed before…

With his sensitive areas laid bare for you to see, Baizhu gasps, frozen in place as your hands feel up his waist and thighs, pushing the latter apart so that you can inspect his body. Sliding two fingers towards his rear, you find that special hole humans have and tease around the rim of it. “Aha! There it is. I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but… I really need this right now.”

While he has no idea what you mean, the doctor senses something amiss within your words. Your fingers attempt to push inside of him, and Baizhu clumsily refuses. “I-I don't think… don't think that I can do that, young man… mm ooh~”

Impatiently, you lift him up and pull him towards you, hovering his hole right above the plant he'd previously milked. A little burst of liquid shoots from the tip, splashing against Baizhu's entrance, which startles him. The consistency of the liquid feels just like the substance it coated his face in earlier; thick, sticky, and warm.

While Baizhu's mind tries to resist, his body is doing quite the opposite, already lowering itself down until the tip of the plant is entering his ass. “A-AAH! Wait–!” he begs. But it's too little too late as your phallic plant penetrates him with ease, thanks to that honey-like fluid. The fleshy appendage pushes a wave of liquid inside his hole, and it creates a wet mess all over his ass, thighs, and the ground below as you begin to fuck him.

“Mm doctor… you feel incredible~ Hehe, look at that—this little guy is having fun too~” Baizhu blushes deeply, shaking his head while you watch his cock bounce every time your plant cock thrusts in.

“N-no… please, harder–! This is weird… aah~ so good~ ” the doctor grits his teeth, biting his lower lip as he grows frustrated by his own mouth betraying him. The cutest whimpers are the only sounds coming from his mouth as you continue your assault on his hole, thrusting your plant deeper and deeper. The amount of liquid gushing out of Baizhu's ass is ungodly now; sticky, squelchy, slick fluids that overflow with every thrust, filling his tummy until it hurts with how full it is.

“You're doing amazing, doctor! That terrible ache is almost gone, I j-just need to– guh!” you suddenly slam your hips into him, laughing as a pang of pleasure wracks your body and causes you to bury your cock in him. Your hands fly to his waist, and you bounce the human while he whimpers some more.

Tears begin to roll down Baizhu's cheeks, staining his glasses with a salty film as you release another round of that thick substance; this time inside the doctor's body. You pant wildly, mere inches from his face while your plant cock spreads open inside of his hole, releasing far too much liquid inside his belly.

[xuzuitengenx]

Neuvillette x Pyro Dragon!Male Reader Oneshot

Part 1 HERE

Title: As We Meet Once Again

Genre: Angst (Potentially Fluff?)

CW and Info: NOT PROOF-READ AS ALWAYS, OOC moments, Lovers turn strangers, not following plot

QUICK A/N: ITS BEEN AWHILE SINCE I WROTE SO IM SORRY IF ITS HORRIBLE

Neuvillette thought that the Lantern Rite in Liyue was beautiful. He saw the festive decorations, families being together, and different Liyue traditions all while he was shopping (and getting scammed).

Walking with 10 boxes of tea through the city of Liyue, he took observations of Liyue. While admiring, he thought of M/N. Some decorations or gifts reminded Neuvillette of M/N or knew that M/N would've loved it.

Neuvillette knows that he should move on from M/N ever since their last encounter. Letting out a sigh, Neuvillette shouldn't be thinking about him right now as he should be enjoying this day.

He will enjoy this day.

Neuvillette knew that he had gotten lost. He was supposed to meet with Furina and the others to go back to Fontaine but he doesn't see them and the area he is in doesn't make sense as there was no transportation even remotely near.

Neuvillette began to walk around to spot any of them or even Hu Tao since Furina and her were chatting a bit.

While his mind was occupied by trying to find anyone, he accidentally bumped into someone which cause the two to tumble a bit.

"Ah—my apologies." Neuvillette quickly said as he almost dropped the boxes of tea, not taking a peek at the person.

"It's alright, Monsieur Neuvillette."

Neuvillette perked up at the person's voice. It almost sounds like...no.

Neuvillette swiftly looks at the person and there was M/N, standing in front of him with that stupid cute smile of his.

"It was really my fault. Should've watched where I was going." M/N scratches the back of his neck with a soft laugh.

Nevulliette was beyond shocked. He never thought that he would see M/N again after that day. Words were caught in his throat as he had lots of things to say, his chest felt heavier yet happy to see M/N again.

M/N took note of Neuvillette's reaction.

"Uhm..Do you need help with carrying those boxes?" M/N asks, trying to ease the tension a bit.

Neuvillette reluctantly looks away from M/N and at the boxes he was holding. This was a bad idea, right? He shouldn't indulge himself with M/N again after everything.. but maybe what if this was his last chance to talk to M/N again, he should take that chance.

Nodding hesitantly, Neuvillette agreed on M/N's help. M/N quickly acted as he grabbed 7 boxes for Neuvillette to carry less.

"Where are you heading to?" M/N asked, looking at the white hair man.

Neuvillette was stuck on his words as he doesn't know where he's heading. All he knew was he needed to go back on the boats.

"Uhm—the boats..." He spoke to M/N while not looking at M/N, his nerves getting the better of him as he cleared his throat. M/N took notice of this and realized that Neuvillette was lost.

"I'll lead the way, Monsieur Neuvillette. Just follow me, alright?" M/N said, taking his eyes off Neuvillette as he began walking.

Neuvillette started following him, watching M/N work his way through the crowd. Neuvillette wanted to talk to M/N, to ask him why he left Neuvillette, and why is he talking to him now? His heart felt heavy as his mind was just filled with unanswered questions.

Speeding up to walk beside M/N, Neuvillette tried to talk but he couldn't. Nothing was coming out as he sneaked glances at the (H/C) hair man.

"M/N– Monsieur M/N.." Neuvillette started, getting the male's attention. "Hmm?" M/N hummed, hearing Neuvillette called his name.

Neuvillette couldn't find his words, thinking about what to ask first. Gripping on the tea boxes as he just blurted out a question.

"..Why? Why did you leave me on that day..?" Neuvillette stopped walking, making the other stop too. M/N looked at Neuvillette, his face softening at the question as Neuvillette's face was determined to find the answer.

Neuvillette replayed that day in his head, his heart pounding as he waited for a answer.

M/N sighed, thinking about that day.

"It's a lot to unpack and you are on a rush so I can tell you another time–"

"I want the answer now." Neuvillette cuts him off, not caring if he is late or if he gets left behind.

M/N was slightly taken aback but quickly composed himself. He looks around and happens to see a unused table near them. Looking at Neuvillette, he gestures with a tilt of his head to move there. Neuvillette follows M/N as they walked to the table.

Setting down the boxes of tea on the table, M/N looked at Neuvillette as Neuvillette quickly set down the other boxes.

Neuvillette looks at M/N, his arms crossing to show that he was not joking around. M/N slightly smiled at Neuvillette's action. He loved when Neuvillette did this as he thought it was adorable.

"Why I left, hmm?" M/N started, thinking back as he looked away. Neuvillette bit the inside of his cheek, wanting–no needing an answer.

"Natlan was.. in a middle of a war and I needed to fight in it." M/N started, looking back at Neuvillette.

M/N sighed. "There was no guarantee that I would live to see the end of it...and knowing that information, I immediately thought of you.."

Neuvillette slowly uncrossed his arms as his determined look started to break.

"I couldn't bare the thought of you absolutely destroyed if you knew that I died in the war. So, I thought of something which was to leave you.. I thought leaving you without no explanation would make you hate me and forget about me if I did died." M/N looked away, unable to look at Neuvillette as he spoke.

"I hated hurting you..So much.. I hate seeing you cry and even making you cry. I wanted to hold you and tell you about the war but I couldn't. I wanted you to move on if I died." M/N felt guilty, still not looking at Neuvillette as he finished.

Neuvillette listened till the end, his face held a heartbroken look and his heart aching. Neuvillette hesitantly walked close to M/N, his gloved hands going to M/N's face. His hands touching M/N's cheeks and gently guiding his face to look at him.

Once his purple eyes met the (E/C) colored eyes, his heart fluttered. It's been too long since he looked at M/N's eyes that he loves so much.

"You should've told me..I would have been fine..–"

"You wouldn't.. I know you too well, Neuvillette.." M/N's hands went on top of Neuvillette's gloved ones on his face.

Neuvillette took a breath when M/N's hands went on his. Taking in his touch he so dearly missed.

"..You still could've told me..when you left me, I didn't hate you.. My heart was completely broken, yes. But, I just couldn't bring myself to hate you.." Neuvillette spoke softly, not breaking eye contact.

M/N listened to Neuvillette, still feeling so guilty.

"..M/N, somehow..I still love you after all these centuries.." As Neuvillette said this, M/N felt his heart fluttered as his eyes widen. Neuvillette saw his eyes widening and felt regret. "I'm not sure if you still feel the same–"

"–I love you too." M/N cut him off, catching Neuvillette off guard. Neuvillette's heart started beating quickly as he processed what M/N said.

Neuvillette couldn't help but to smile. "Good.. that's good.."

M/N smiled back, taking in Neuvillette's beautiful features.

There was a much needed moment of silence as the two dragons just enjoy being back within each other's company.

"HEY, I FOUND HIM!" Furina's voice broke the silence as she yelled at the others of her discovery.

Taking their eyes off each other, they looked at Furina. Nevulliette's heart clutched as he needed to go and leave M/N. Looking back at M/N as his hands didn't leave M/N's cheeks, he didn't want to leave.

M/N looked at Neuvillette, his face clearly sadden. "It seems like you have to go." M/N spoke.

Neuvillette nods, reluctantly taking his gloved hands off of M/N which made M/N take his hands away too.

Neuvillette grabs all 10 of the boxes, starting to walk away from M/N before he stopped. Looking back at M/N, his eyes fixated on the man and he suddenly asked a question—or more of a statement.

"Come back with me." Neuvillette said, turning his full body to M/N.

"What?" M/N asked.

Neuvillette took a quick breath, repeating himself. "Come back to Fontaine with me.."

M/N scratched the back of his neck, thinking about what he just said.

"Please.." Neuvillette held a pleading look, hoping M/N would come with him. M/N looked at Neuvillette's face, his heart skipping a beat.

Finally, M/N nodded. "I'll go with you." M/N walked to Neuvillette. Neuvillette sighed in relief, smiling as M/N walked to him.

"Thank you." Neuvillette softly spoke.

M/N smiled. "Of course.."

THE END

[yoitsjay]

What would the ideal types of the batboys be headcanons?

I pulled this shit right out of my ass for you, your welcome

Batboys Ideal Type: (all inclusive, we don't discriminate)

Bruce Wayne

Dick Grayson

I think we all know that Bruce has a certain type.

Women that can kick his ass

Thalia, Celina, Diana...

Yeah you know the gist of it.

He's probably head over heels for you if you have some muscle, or can handle yourself in a fight. If he doesn't have to worry (though he does anyway), about you being hurt in a fight, then he's in bliss. Colour, shape, size, height, I don't think necessarily matters to him, as long as you care about him and his sons, and don't mind the whole batman thing.

Jason Todd

Similar to Bruce I don't think he has a specific type, Dick dated Starfire, and probably fucked around with a bunch of other women too (we don't shame, your all sluttier than he is).

Dick probably likes someone on the more flexible side, someone who can keep up with his energy. That's probably all he looks for. When it comes to more serious relationships, he pays a bit more attention towards personality, attitude, traits.

He doesn't want to end up hurt, or hurting you.

Tim Drake

Thicker, muscular, plumper.

He knows he's big, he's extremely strong and he's dangerous. He ideally wants someone who isn't going to snap like a twig when he wants to have fun, or make them feel good. He wants someone who can handle the rougher aspect, the big side of him. And if you can handle that, handle him, then your his forever.

Again, Jason doesn't want to hurt you, but even then, he finds muscles on women sexy. He also finds plumper bodies quite heavenly, too, more skin for him to grasp and hold, and knead his hands into. He doesn't mind his lovers being tall or close to his height, but he adores someone who's shorter than him.

It's the size difference.

Damian Wayne

Someone who's independent, but also isn't afraid to ask for help either. We all know Tim is Bisexual, so whether your a guy or girl, it doesn't matter to him. You could be muscular, thinner, thicker, or in between, and I don't think he'd mind. He has bigger things to focus on then being picky about your body.

He loves you because of your work ethic, and the things you strive to do to make him happy. He loves you wanting to work towards your goals. And by the end of the day all he wants to do is hold you, or he held by you.

Someone who isn't a fucking pussy.

That's it.

He doesn't care about anything else, maybe some attractiveness, and not super malnourished or extremely overweight, but whether your thicker, skinnier, again it doesn't matter to him.

He was raised to kill, to protect and fight, not to worry about some chick's body type.

If you can hold up against his attitude, and somehow manage to win his heart, then he loves you, no changing that fact.

Tag list:

All: @only-my-unexistent-fiances @francesfarhadi

Batfam:

Bruce Wayne: @ilaiise

Dick Grayson: @ilaiise

Jason Todd: @ilaiise

Tim Drake: @ilaiise

Damian Wayne: @ilaiise

[hhoneylemon]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩

dick grayson x hero!reader

summary: dick temporarily loses his hearing after a patrol

genre: fluff/slight comfort

word count: 1.2k

it was all a blur.

one moment, you’re fighting beside him. the next, he’s alone and blinking himself awake. he faintly remembers getting hit in the back of the head so hard that he could taste the color yellow.

dick doesn’t hear them. he can sense them, however, thanks to all those years in the gig. he turns as the thugs approach, sending a kick to the stomach of the closest thug, waiting to see who else would charge at him.

he doesn’t have to wait long. he wastes no time in beating a few of them with his escrima sticks, breathing hard when he sends another to the ground with a kick. his lungs and throat hurts. he can’t hear his breaths.

after punching the final thug a few times, he finally remembers he wasn’t here alone. a feeling of dread settles in his gut. he opens his mouth, roughly demanding where you are. he doesn’t hear himself, nor the reply as the thugs mouth moves. he curses himself internally; hearing loss. a possible sign of a concussion.

he drags himself out of the general area of the warehouse, searching separate rooms. he deals with the few thugs he comes across, but there are no signs of you. he’s beginning to panic. swiftly incapacitating people turns into bashing peoples heads into walls and floors. he’s more rough than he should be, less careful than he knows you’d wish he was.

upon finally emerging from the warehouse, he’s shown signs of your existence. there are a few thugs scattered about, already dealt with. he darts around in the shadows, being careful while also looking for you.

he almost screams for joy when he sees you in a small battle with someone. he’s immediately by your side, helping defeat a few other thugs who looked like they were about to gang up on you. you give him a quick ‘hey!’ as you punch the next thug, though you’re confused when dick didn’t reply to your greeting like he usually would.

the moment everyone else is dealt with, his arms are around you and the side of his face is pressed against yours. he lets out a shuddery breath and you make a noise of confusion.

“d? babe, you okay?”

he can feel your jaw move, but he can’t hear you. he lets out a noise of frustration, pulling away. there’s a look of despair on his face. you frown, cupping his chin with a hand.

“what’s wrong?”

his eyebrows furrow. what did you say? he shakes his head and points to his ear.

“i can’t hear.”

you tilt your head, giving a ‘huh?’ he breathes deeply, tilting his head to kiss your thumb.

“my hearing’s gone. i got hit in the head.”

you make a sound of understanding, then nod when you register the situation. you give him another hug, squeezing him. he quickly hugs back, gulping nervously. if he never hears your voice again, he’ll be gravely upset.

taking his hand, you begin leading him to the street. you can walk home, for all you care. or find a building with a fire escape you can climb to hop from rooftop to rooftop, either is fine. a kiss is pressed to dick’s cheek as you walk.

the usual chatter that’s shared after a patrol or mission is gone, bringing a sense of melancholy. all you have to comfort you is dick’s spandex-covered hand, which squeezes yours and makes sure you don’t have more than a few inches between each other. there are people in the streets of blüdhaven that pause and take photos of the cities defenders, though you’re left alone.

you find a building with a fire escape, pulling your boyfriend to the alleyway. he lets you climb first, following swiftly after you. together, the two of you run and leap from roof to roof until you make it to your apartment complex. he drops to the fire escape stairs and you follow him until reaching your window. breaking into your own apartment, you both climb into the bedroom.

you both strip and change into sleepwear; he grabs his tank top and sweatpants, stretching his arms. turning, he’s surprised to see you already on the bed. he didn’t hear the creak of the bed springs. oh yeah.

dick climbs onto the bed with you, settling onto his knees and cupping your cheek before kissing you softly. you place a hand on his thigh, sighing softly. he flutters his eyes at you and you frown.

“you’re so pretty.”

he gives you a look of confusion. you smile.

the two of you climb under the sheets together. he drapes himself atop of you, pressing his face against your chest. his arms wrap around your midsection, your own loosely wrapping around his waist. you peck the crown of his head.

“love you, dick. goodnight.”

he says nothing, though you didn’t necessarily expect him to. you stay awake a bit longer than normal, a sense of worry nestled in your mind, though exhaustion knocks you out regardless. dick takes much longer than usual; he’s used to sleeping to your heartbeat or your breathing, maybe the sounds of cars and such interrupting. absolute silence is frightening to him.

when dick awakes in the morning, he’s on his back with his arms flung at his sides. the room is illuminated by sunlight, the bed cold from the lack of his partners body. he groans, rolling over to hide his face in his pillow.

he heard the creaking of the bed springs.

he’s up within seconds, running down the small hallway to the kitchen. he finds you pouring a mug of coffee. he can hear the small hums that escape you, the sound of the coffee splashing into the mug.

as you put the coffee pot back into the machine, dick’s on you. he turns you, picks you up and spins you, places you back on the ground and attacks your face with kisses.

“good morning to you too.”

you smile, your arms wrapping around his neck. a sound that could be mistaken for a sob escapes your boyfriend.

“your voice is the sweetest sound on earth, babe. i, oh gosh, i love you.”

you laugh as he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, then captures your lips. his lips move desperately, as if he’d also regained his sense of touch. you smile, reaching a hand up into his hair and getting tangled in a few curls.

“well, i love you too. could i have my coffee now?”

he reluctantly releases you, watching you move with a small smile on his face. the moment you turn back towards him with your mug, he’s back to you. he gives you space to move your arm so that you can take a sip, though his hands find your hips and give them gentle squeezes.

you’d be annoyed that you weren’t able to sit if his face weren’t so pretty. a light smile carved with his lips, pretty blue eyes framed by long eyelashes, tan skin highlighted by the rays of sun that managed to leak through the kitchen curtains. with a sigh, you lean in to kiss his lips. he happily kisses back. you lean back and give him a teasing smile.

“have you even said good morning to haley yet?”

dick’s face drops. he immediately spins and skids to the living room a few feet away.

“my baby!”

you chuckle to yourself, watching as he drops to the floor in front of her. he’s such a dork.

masterlist

[phyrestartr]

Deal With It (P.1) | Gojo x M!Reader |

W/C: 2.8k C/W: depictions of self-harm, depictions of depression, poor mental health, stress, mental illness, arranged marriage, hostile relationships, smoking, language, violence Tags: SFW, hurt/comfort, drama, canon-typical violence, character growth, eventual romantic feelings, eventual fluff and good vibes, kouhai gojo, senpai reader, plot and lore

Tag List: @pleniluneg4ze @aizen-lover @easnowpw @tomiokasecretlover @snoweclipsese @mef0rg0r @soulsire @kiiyoooo @reiluvr @fricking-ur-mom @cucumbertoptier @enchantingkitty @mira-la-sol @deepestartisanhumanoidshark @animadi888 @cloudserenity @sageofspades @dietothemusic @prettorett @animadi888 @playboygeniusphilanthropist @chikai-k @starrykie

1.

“So, you really don’t care what he thinks?” Shoko asked as you lit her cigarette. “Even I think he was kinda harsh.”

You pocketed your lighter and leaned back against the cold college walls. “He’s got a thing for that black-haired guy.”

“Getou.” 

“Sure.” You shrugged and tried to rub the ache out of your neck as you stared up at the bleak, grey skies. The air reeked of petrichor. Thankfully you’d brought an umbrella that day. 

“And you’re not bothered he’s in love with Getou?” Your friend continued, her cute bobbed haircut swaying with the tilt of her head. She always looked so charming like that, when she was being a mischievous brat while pretending to be anything but. 

“Dunno.” And that was the truth. “He’s not even my type. I’d rather hitch up with someone like you or Nanami. Someone less annoying. Less loud-mouthed.” 

“Ooh, that'll hurt his ego.” Shoko smiled. “Well, guess you'll have to learn to deal with it.”

You took a deep breath and rubbed your face as you nodded. “Yeah.”

–

“Forever is a long time,” You mumbled, leaning your forehead against the cool touch of the window. Rain pittered and pattered, exploding off the glass like trillions of kamikaze planes. It almost birthed some sort of hurt in your chest. Best not to dwell on it, you decided.

“Hah? Are you talking to yourself again like a weirdo?” The one and only Gojo Satoru yowled before kicking you in the rear like a petulant child. “Pft! Figures. Knowing my luck, I would have to get married to a creeper.” 

“Even if you married Getou, you'd still be marrying a creep,” you grumbled, dusting the dirt off your behind. “You need something? Or did you harass me just for the fun of it?” 

You heard Gojo, your fiancé, scoff and shuffle behind you. “I just wanted to remind you to humble yourself! Just because I'm forced to marry you doesn't mean you're accomplished or cool or anything, got it?” 

Being in his presence had you craving a cigarette. “Yeah, got it.” 

“And Suguru's better than you,” he added, aloof voice bowing down beneath hardened, steeled words. “Don't forget that either.” 

You bit down on your cheek to ward away the heat building under your skin, the magma sinking deep into your eyesockets and threatening to pour down your esophagus. The taste of iron washed against your tongue, and you released your flesh from between your molars. Sometimes, you wanted to keep boring down on yourself to see how much you could really take, but a fear of the answer too often made you think twice. 

“This is starting to bore me,” you said, tilting your head as you caught a flicker of red in your rain-muddied reflection. You touched your fingers to your tongue and found blood coating the tips. 

“Pah. I was gonna say the same!” You watched his reflection turn away. “Good luck trying to impress me.” 

I'm not interested. You watched him walk away, slouching and with his hands in his pockets like he was emulating some kind of yankii character. He might have fit the bill, if he hadn't had such a ridiculous, brat side to him.

Just deal with it. You wiped the red on your uniform with a sigh. Tomorrow's a new day. 

—

“Sorry about Satoru,” Getou said. He'd found you outside, tucked close against the stone wall with a cigarette in your mouth as you watched the downpour. Apparently, he liked the rain, too. 

“You don't need to apologize,” you said after a drag. “It's not your fault.” Probably. 

The younger sorcerer smiled a little bit wider. “In a way, it almost is; Satoru wouldn't be coming after you if it weren't for my, ah, sheer existence, I guess you could say.”

You shrugged. “You didn't ask to exist,” you said, secretly cringing as the words left your mouth.

Getou laughed. “Ho, that's a good point, I didn't think about it that way.” Another chuckle left him as he leaned against the wall beside you and stared at the rain. “It's definitely Satoru's fault, then.”

You hummed in agreement and offered him a cigarette. He blinked, but plucked one out of the box and looked it over before fumbling to tuck the end into his mouth as you held the lighter's flame out for him. You blocked the wind as he leaned in and inhaled deeply until the butt hissed to life with molten red. A beat later, Getou sputtered and coughed wildly, waving his hand through the air to dismiss your stare and the smoke's mockery. 

You frowned. “You don't smoke?” 

Your company wheezed and laughed, leaning back against the wall with a humbled smile. “Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said. “You and Ieiri—I feel like I never see either of you without a cigarette.”

“Life’s stressful, I guess.” You looked at the half-spent smoke in your hand, exhaling smoke through your nose as you thought.

You saw Getou lean in out of the corner of your eye. His dark hair brushed against your shoulder, though it could have just been the wind, too. “It doesn't affect you?” 

“Shoko reverses the negatives,” you grumbled. You stuck the cigarette into the corner of your mouth again before pocketing your hands. “Lung cancer would be an easier out than getting ripped to shreds by a curse, besides.” 

“Ho? You think so?” Getou teased. “You don't think you'd go mad? Laying in bed, suffocating in your own body, just waiting to die?” 

You shrugged. “It's a human way to go, at least. Random. Maybe self-imposed, sometimes. But…normal.” 

Time slowed for a second as Getou stared at you. You hazarded a look for once in your life, and caught the enigmatic thing's warm, obsidian eyes. They gave you pause, made you wonder, sent your mind reeling as you caught glints of jagged edges disrupting smooth, volcanic glass. 

“Are you alright?” You asked without thinking. 

Getou blinked, then smiled. “I just think you're interesting, senpai.” He glanced down at the smoldering stick caught between his fingers. “It's a surprise, to be honest. I think Satoru'll be in good hands with you.” 

You stared down at the puddle pooling around your boots. Another self stared back, his image ruined and distorted by raindrops crashing into him, yet he was still clearer than the version trapped in your skull. Maybe the mirrored image was your real self, and you were just the distortion. “I don't have much of a choice, I guess. But I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all we can really hope for with partners, right?” 

“Right.” A moment passed. “You’re oddly okay with this.” 

“I’m not taking it personally,” Getou said. “How can I? Neither of you want to do this, anyway—you hardly even tolerate each other in the first place, and now Satoru’s gone extra crazy about it.” 

The ground felt a little more solid under your feet, and you were a little more real, after those words were spoken. Even the reflection in the puddle grew clearer, revealing fresh colours once concealed by grey thoughts. Something would drain the world of its saturation again, but that moment would stay with you until that day came. 

“Thanks,” you said with some difficulty. “The thought’s appreciated.” 

“It’s the least I can do.” His hand clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. You forced yourself not to shrink away from it like a slug trying to flee a grain of salt. “Thanks for putting up with him, senpai. Most people aren’t so charitable. Besides,” he said, leaning in close enough for his breath to brush against your ear, “I get whatever Satoru gets, and you get whatever he has, no? What’s yours is mine, what’s mine is yours, and all that?”

Heat scattered across your face and prickled the length of your spine. You were foolish to forget that Getou was a menace, just like Gojo, yet somehow more lethal. 

“Sure.” You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at him. It’d be a death sentence. “You’ll get as much as he gets, I guess.”

Getou chuckled and backed off. “We’ll see.”

–

Gojo threw open the door to your room and zoomed inside, socked feet sliding against smooth hardwood. “It’s me!” 

He slipped and fell as soon as you turned to look at him. “It’s you.” You snatched your walkman out of the air as it tipped off your desk following the sorcerer's tumble. “Why is it you?”

“Rude!” Gojo spat out in-between his pained whining. “I'm your fiancé! I'm allowed to be here!”

“That's not really how that works.” You watched Gojo melt into a starfish, stomach down, cheek smooshed against the floorboards. 

And you turned away, back to your work of flipping through astronomical charts and comparing the dates and info with the briefs sent to you, the one third year who bothered to stay. The admins relied on you too much, yet thankfully left the role of guidance counselor and teacher to someone older and more tolerant like Yaga. Still, the sparks of hope that were Utahime and Shoko promised some future relief for—

“Mou, why aren't you more concerned for your fiancé’s well-being?” Gojo whined. 

“I'm more concerned about your sudden desire for me to be concerned,” you offered. 

Gojo gasped and sat up in a whirlwind. “I never said I desired your concern! That's so salacious.” 

“Is this because Getou spoke with me?” You asked, leaning back into your chair with a sigh. 

“No!” He rebuked. “Maybe,” he said. “You better not be trying to win him over ‘cause you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not interested in him,” you snapped. “I’m not interested in you.”

“Hmmm, sounds fake. Everyone loves me.”

“Right.”

“You think there’s any chance they’ll call off the engagement?” 

“No.” 

“Can’t you, like, look into the future and figure it out?” 

You frowned and sent him a look. “What?”

Gojo swayed side to side, hands tucked in the middle of his criss-crossed legs like a kindergartener. “Isn’t that your thing?” He huffed. “Doing pre-op stuff, predicting future events, never really going out on missions ‘cause you’re low-key kinda weak in the field?” A ghoulish snicker left him. “I mean, you’re waaay weaker than me, so—”

“I don’t divine for myself,” you said, voice sharp and jagged. “I help avoid disasters. I help foresee assignment outcomes and the best way to move towards or away from them. I don’t—” You swallowed and caught your breath. “I don’t divine the fates of people.” 

“Well, maybe you should,” Gojo said, sobering slightly. “I don’t wanna do this, you don’t wanna do this, why don’t you just check and see how we can avoid it, huh? This is kind of a natural disaster in its own way.” 

“It’s just an arrangement,” you rasped. “You’ll get over it.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” Gojo frowned in return. “I’m gonna be the strongest sorcerer in the world. I don’t have to settle for an arranged marriage.” 

Your heart thudded dully in the back of your skull, its rising pace shaking the cage keeping it safe. Your throat tightened, too, while your thoughts warped and rippled into one another like your reflection, unable to stay whole under the devastation of falling rain, until you heard everything but nothing at once.

Your face must have done something strange for Gojo to look at you like you were a kicked puppy. You hated it, the way his expression flickered and the way his posture lost its self-righteous poise despite his childish way of sitting. He looked less-than. You didn’t mean to make him look that way. 

“I—” He tried, but you raised a hand. He fell silent. 

“I’ll look into it,” you said. “You’ll know if I find anything.”

If Gojo said anything more, you didn't hear it. You shut the rest of the world out and lost yourself in the positions of planets and the elements of each sorcerer available for future missions, comparing and contrasting the direction of energies to decide who would be best suited for which job. Losing your mind in the charts and data calmed your mind and spirit, easing you back down to an equilibrium until the sun rose again and you’d forgotten the turmoil of the hours before. 

Morning already. You squinted looking out your window and closed the blinds with a quick snap. Right after the blinds settled, you heard a snore. 

Gojo Satoru was asleep in your bed. His gangly arms hugged a pillow to his chest as he laid on his side, facing your way. The odd sight of peace on the younger sorcerer's face drew you in, bringing you close enough to get a good look at the snowy lashes resting against porcelain skin. He always looked odd to you, as though he were some kind of inhuman human, like an alien trying to put on the guise of your fellow terrans. But he was very much human; the glimpses caught of him during a distantly shared childhood proved as much. 

I don’t wanna do this, you don’t wanna do this, why don’t you just check and see how we can avoid it, huh? 

You'd never tell him you already tried to divine that. You could never relay properly how your mind burned with ways to discount your work and force self-doubt into what you knew to be true time after time after time; you were going to marry him. There was no way out. 

But there were still some things you could judge.

You sat down at your desk and skimmed through files until you happened upon Getou Suguru. Your heart hit your ribs a little faster, a little harder, as you found his birthdate and recognized his element as metal. It suited him. Gojo, on the other hand, held earth energy. That coupled with the more Western-normalized fire sign Sagittarius, explained him in a way that could be regarded as violating by those who didn't understand. 

You rubbed your brows and squeezed your eyes closed until sparking colours and inky black splotches danced against your eyelids. Charting the stars, understanding people, contrasting energies and suggesting changes to ensure favourable outcomes—all were the culmination of onmyoudou, the ancient art that carved the path and existence for jujutsu, but people feared an onymoji’s ability to read people more than the destruction caused by sorcerers. Onmyoji helped empires move, assisted in bringing them good fortune and positive outcomes; they could foretell what a person should and shouldn’t do. Clairvoyance born from calculations, and the wielding of shikigami by those clairvoyants, reeked of power and the abuse of it. 

Curiosity wrenched your eyes back open. You blinked away the stars and darkness until your vision and mind cleared enough to let you draw up a timeline of events and planets you’d already looked over a thousand times. 

You frowned and double checked, triple checked, quadruple checked the facts after a first look. You glanced at birthdates again and again. You looked for anomalies in the calendar and cross-referenced your sources. All stayed the same, all were as they’d been five and sixty minutes ago—you were too good at your job to be wrong, yet you still always held out hope for errors and your own incompetency. 

You leaned back in your chair and picked at a hangnail. You can always redirect energy for the sake of a client, you recalled; your mother had taught you as much. It might not be perfect, but we can try. You pulled at the sliver of skin until you gouged it out of your finger, leaving a bloody wound and a shred of relief in its wake.

You jumped as your door slid open to reveal Yaga. His train of thought stopped dead in its tracks as he spied the bratty Gojo curled up in your bed, snoozing without a care.

“What the hell is he doin’ here?” Your teacher groused. 

“He came in to harass me, I guess,” you said. “Then apparently fell asleep when I started ignoring him.” 

“Hah. Yeah, that kid can't function unless someone's giving him attention.” Your superior sighed and crossed his arms. “Anyway, you have those predictions?” 

“Yeah, I—yeah, just one second.” You rubbed your eyes and begged the rest of your lifeforce to lock it in as you saved documents and compiled them in an email for all the higher-ups to view. Something about the process made your spine rattle; it must have been the fear of not CC-ing someone by accident. “Sent.”

Yaga checked his phone as it dinged. He took a moment to skim through the forecast and nodded, letting you stand impatiently before him. 

“Looks like you touched on everything,” he said as he tucked his phone away. “Good job. Now get some rest, you look like shit.” 

Yaga took his leave, and you stared at the oversized baby hogging your bed. 

Rest. You nudged and pushed Gojo into the wall before collapsing beside him. Right.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Are y’all ready?!?!?! Posting two (maybe two more.) on January 1st! (The time is Central Time in the US.)

[rekino2114]

Chainsaw Man Cuddling Headcannons with a Male Reader!

Essentially the CSM Girls (mainly Makima, Himeno, Kobeni, Power, and whoever else you want-) and your headcannons for what they’re like when they’re cuddling. Are they big spoon? or lil spoon? Do they kick? Or are they still? Are they warm bodied? Or cold bodied? Do their hands wander? Or do they keep their hands to themselves?

Cuddling headcanons with chainsaw man girls

A/n:I actually really appreciate you putting the pictures/gifs in the requests it does mean a lot

Makima

There's nothing that you and makima love more after a day of work than cuddling on the bed together. She just adores to feel you relax in her arms, just as much as you love relaxing with her.

She's definitely the big spoon. She just loves seeing you so comfy and happy in her arms,

She's somehow always the right temperature for cuddling, she's very warm in winter and just cold enough in summer. You don't know if it's because she's a devil or if it's because she just wants you to feel comfortable so much her body just does that, but it's really nice

She likes to kiss your face, play with your hair, and whisper to you as you're cuddling, and it never fails to make you fall asleep soon. Everything about her is just so comfortable and cozy.

Power

Power is very affectionate, so she demands cuddles very often. Basically, every time she sees you, she hugs you and brings you to the closest bed,couch to cuddles

Her position depends on how she feels, she doesn't mind being the big or little spoon so she kinda lets you decide or sees in the moment

She's pretty warm most of the time so you don't really need blankets, but she really likes how soft they are so she still hogs them all to herself

She likes to bite you while you cuddle, on the neck especially, but will stop if you ask her nicely and pet her head. She also brings meowy to cuddle with you since he's really soft too

Himeno

Himeno is also very affectionate, and she also very much loves cuddles. She basically can't go on a day without cuddling you and struggles to fall asleep without you near her.

She also doesn't mind the position, she just asks you if you wanna be the big or little spoon in that moment and adapts accordingly

She's pretty cold(maybe because of the ghost devil) so she just wraps both of you in so many blankets until you're almost sweating

She loves to kiss yo everywhere while you cuddle, your face especially, you'll just wake up with a lot of kiss marks on you after a cuddle session

Kobeni higashiyama

While kobeni doesn't really ask for cuddles that often and she blushes a lot while you're holding her, it's just because she's embarrassed. She actually would love nothing more than to cuddle with you after a hard day

She's the little spoon all the way. She just wants you to hold her and protect her from everything. She looks adorable like that, so you don't mind cuddling like that at all

Her body temperature is average, maybe on the colder side but that doesn't bother either of you

Cuddling with you is one of the rare moments where she can rant to someone about how awful everything is, like how terrible her day went. The fact that you just listen and let her rant to you makes her fall in love with you even more

Quanxi

Whenever quanxi sees you're stressed, she just silently wraps her arms around you and brings you to the bed to cuddle and if you ask her for cuddles expect her to do the same

She's 100% the big spoon, not only is she really strong and loves hugging you tightly she's also very protective and just wants to see you safe in her arms

She's pretty cold in general and if you bring that up to her she'll bring a blanket. She's also pretty silent during cuddles, preferring to just let her heartbeat lull you to sleep

Sometimes the rest of your girlfriends find you cuddling and just jump on you to making a giant but comfy cuddle puddle.

Asa mitaka

This girl is so stressed and anxious. She needs a lot of cuddles, and luckily, she has a boyfriend there to give her however many cuddles she needs

She's the little spoon every single time. She needs comfort and someone to hold on to in her life, and now that she has you, she just loves feeling the warm comfort of your arms

She's a mix of kobeni and quanxi in the way that depending on how she feels she'll either rant to you about how school went or just stay silent and enjoy the warmth and comfort

Cuddling with you is one of the few moments yoru can't bother asa (which she gets pretty angry about) no matter how much the voice in her head talks she just focuses on you and ignores her

Yoru

She might not really know the concept of cuddling itself, but she knows being near you makes her feel nice, so when she feels like it, she just takes control of asa's body and drags you to the couch to cuddle

She would like to be the big spoon but asa's body is a bit too small for it. So she tries her best to wrap her arms around you, she often ends up being the little spoon while pouting though

Asa's body is pretty cold and yoru will complain about that a lot (much to Asa's annoyance) but a blanket can fix the situation

Like power she likes biting you and leaving hickeys on you while you cuddle (asa apologizes later but you tell her you don't mind)

Fami

Fami didn't know what cuddles were before getting with you, but now she really loves them, she kinda waits for you to suggest to cuddle and immediately drops everything she's doing (except food) to cuddle

She's the big spoon. She's really tall and also just really likes hugging you. You don't even need to say anything. The moment you mention cuddles, she instantly wraps her arms around you.

She likes kissing you while you cuddle, straight up mouth kisses with tongue just because she really loves feeling your lips. If you tell her to stop she definitely will though

To nobody's surprise, she eats during cuddle time, too. She usually brings snacks and munches on them while cuddling, which leaves crumbs all around your bed, but you know she loves food a lot, so you just tell her to clean up after and let her eat

[gatorbites-imagines]

Please, please, I'll do whatever you want, just more yautja

Male Elder Yautja OC (Ge'jaar) x male reader

Ficlet

I still don’t really know a whole lot of the yautja lore, but I love them anyways. So, heres me cooking up an oc and hoping it’s somewhat canon because I love yautja and will take any excuse to write about them. Readers somewhat based off of an oc of mine. Reader is also around 6ft 5 inches. Ge'jaar is 9ft or so.

Bako really grew on me for some reason when I wrote this, so lemme know if you guys wanna read about him.

You were old. Very old. You hadn’t kept much track of just how old you were, it didn’t really matter, but you only appeared to be in the 50s or very good 60s. You knew you were a lot older than that, having spent at least 100 years away from earth, hunting. You had returned though, at some point, and settled down in a very defensible cabin far away from much of everything, where you could live in peace with your “dogs”.

Well, you called them dogs, mainly because they walked on all fours and had a tail they’d wag, and followed orders. An ex of yours had called them Kiande amedha, you just called them xenomorphs, or your beetle dogs. Years ago, back when you had successfully killed the bad bloods that kidnapped you and your military unit, you had found this little ugly hissing creature. There was a stereotype that humans would bond with most near anything, and they were right.

You brought the little bugger along on the ship you stole from the now dead bad bloods, which took a long time to figure out how to steer. You named your pet Lucky, and you would later learn she was female. Strangely enough, she seemed to follow you as if you were the queen and not her, so it was all fine. Even if she and her first offspring did kill your ex when he tried to hit and control you. One of her offspring lost a leg in that fight, so obviously his name would be tripod.

Luckily for you, sweet little Lucky didn’t breed like other of her kind. Over the years shed only had about 50 offspring, whom she seemed to raise in the same way you remembered earth dogs would do it, sometimes making you wonder if she was some kind of crossbreed. Having 50 kiande amedha though, made you very dangerous in the eyes of your ex’s species, especially when they learned you controlled them.

Joining the hunt hadn’t been something you had outright planned to do. Or getting juiced up with whatever weird drugs and inventions the clans you were friendly with cooked up. That was why you grew so much taller, and aged so slowly.

Ge'jaar wasn’t part of one of the clans you fought alongside. You two actually met, when a group of young bloods tried to hunt your beetle dogs. Apparently, they thought you would be an easy target, being an ooman and all. Of course, you made sure to show them you weren’t. they successfully killed one of your pets, a spunky one named Hoover because he ate everything. And like any hunter worth their salt, you needed revenge.

It led to some political struggles and conversations between clan elders, since you were pretty much a part of that one specific clan now after so many hunts together.

Ge'jaar wasn’t the leader of his clan, but still counted as an elder. He was handsome, in his own, scaley way. His skin was white and covered in the same dark splotching as all yautja seemed to carry. He wore a lot of the same clothing as most yautja did, and would later on wear a cape you made from the hide of a beast you had hunted.

In the end, Ge'jaar went as far as to apologize and repay you for the dead “hunting hound”. Bako, one of the males from your apparent clan, would later tell you it was because Ge'jaar wanted to fuck you. You were still very salty about Hoover though, so you acted quite nasty and confrontational with Ge'jaar and his clan for a good chunk of years.

The cape Ge'jaar would start to wear, hadn’t even been a gift in your mind. For some reason the elder yautja had followed along for one of your solo hunts, in Bakos words “going on a date” with you. And yes, Ge'jaar was very impressive to watch fight, he was very big and broad, alright? The creatures purple blood sprayed all over his white skin also didn’t help.

You couldn’t even remember what you had said to him, but it must have been some threat or curse as you threw the creatures skin at him, since you only wanted the meat and bones. It made no sense to you at the time why Ge'jaar started wearing the fur, and you hadn’t wanted to ask Bako since the guy had just started cackling at you when he saw it.

It was only years later when you had settled back down on earth, that it really seemed to register to you that Ge'jaar was trying to charm you, in his own yautja way. Still feeling so angry about Hoovers death, even if Ge'jaar himself didn’t do it, you took all the hunting and dead creatures by your ship and hut as a threat or challenge. All the jewelry and armor as harder to explain, and you still had the book about yautja mythology somewhere on your shelf.

At that point, you had just assumed Ge'jaar moved on, since you hadn’t seen him in so long. The only yautja you truly spoke much too nowadays was Bako and those from his clan. And of course, the ones that still owed you favors, just to remind them you were still alive to cash in on it.

You had just returned from one of your trips to the nearest large city, a trip that took you almost two weeks since everything was far away, when you saw him again. Or rather, one of your beetle dogs saw him, a young one named Blue, since his dome of a head reflected blue more than the rest.

Blue had been born, laid? On earth, and had seen very little true combat, so you assumed that was why he was the friendliest of them all. Where most of Lucky’s offspring that had known space and combat stuck to the shadows and settled in the cave system near your cabin, Blue was a real lapdog.

Friendly enough it seemed, to just accept an intruder in your home. Stepping out of your truck, Blue trotted out of your cabin door, which was wide open, looking as happy as a clam with dried meat in his maw. There was a feeling in the air that you weren’t alone, so grabbing at your beloved weapon of choice, you were about to fall back into old habits.

That was until Ge'jaar of all people, stepped out of your cabin, wearing one of your shirts. Well, trying to wear one of your shirts. It was one of the largest shirts you owned, old and worn with some odd shape on the front that might have been a logo once.

The elder yautja looked very comfortable, right at home honestly, his dreadlocks pulled into a bun on the back of his large head, and a damn sleeve of cookies in his massive hand. The confusion must have been so clear on your face, as the retired hunter chittered and laughed, moving closer to help you lug stuff back into your cabin and into your massive basement.

The confusion was strong enough that you just kinda went along with it, moving everything from your large truck and away from sight until you needed it. It was only after you both sat down on the couch that you took notice of the minor changes to your home, it looked very much like Ge'jaar had just moved himself in.

You could have smacked him right then and there, maybe cut all his dreadlocks off and made him swallow his mandibles, but somehow the massive scarred yautja made himself look so innocent and borderline lovable.

Blue, the little fucker, just got comfortable on a large fur Ge'jaar had laid out across the floor, tail whipping all over and knocking trinkets off your coffee table. The little traitor, you knew you spoiled him too much.

It took a lot of explanation from Ge'jaar, and you had a feeling if you hadn’t lived amongst his people for so long you might have lost it, but apparently Ge'jaar had made some plea to his clan leader, and yours since apparently you still counted as one of those, and you two were pretty much married without your approval.

Well, or so you would say, but all your guy’s “dates” and all the “gifts” you passed between you counted as courting. You settling down back on earth just appeared to be retirement in their eyes. It wasn’t like you still hated Ge'jaar, you never really had thinking back, it just… came as quite a surprise.

Ge'jaar still kept on courting you, even when you fed most of the things he caught to Lucky and her offspring. The elder yautja took your claim that Lucky was your child to heart, clicking and purring when she, and by extent her offspring, finally accepted his presence.

Time was a true blur out in the mountains, you only really noticed it by the seasons passing and you needing to go back into town two or three times a year to stock back up. But soon enough Ge'jaar was part of your life, and yes, you still snipped and bit at him sometimes, but this time it was meant as flirting.

Your mate, since that’s what you guys were now, was so patient and seemed to find your human nature endearing enough to pick up on some of it himself. It still felt very weird to be given flowers by a seasoned hunter like Ge'jaar, or to walk in on him watching Gilmore girls with Blue draped across his lap, but you got used to it.

It was probably best that you and Ge'jaar were the ones to get together, since he was older, had already had all the offspring he wanted. The yautja was also confident enough in himself that he didn’t get jealous the same way your ex had. Ge'jaar was hot and he knew this even in his fluffy robe and slippers, though you couldn’t help but miss him in his netting and weapons at times.

It turned out to be a lot more comfortable than you had thought to retire, with your mate who had to be hundreds of years older than you, and your many, many beetle dogs. There were times you debated on going out for a hunt again, as a date, for old times sake, but that was something you would need to discuss with Ge'jaar first.

[prael]

Day 8: Perspective

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 6,693 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

It's all a matter of perspective. From the outside looking in, things can appear vastly different than when viewed up close and personal.

Take, for instance: Miyeon.

Now, look, you're not saying the whole image is only perspective. You wouldn't dream of undermining the fact that the girl who looks like a princess in magazines, on TV and wherever else you might see her, does in fact look every bit as much of a princess in person. The long black hair, the perfect smooth skin, the way she smiles as though she has a wonderful secret she can't wait to tell. Everything about her is as regal and poised as you'd expect.

But that's not the whole story. It never is.

There's a depth to this woman. There's a nuance to her that doesn't translate to the photos. Something you feel more than you can describe.

And, boy, you can feel it.

"God, fuck, I'm close," Miyeon whispers, her words hot against your ear. Her voice is a breathy whisper, so different from the clear tones she uses on stage. She's not singing now—there's nothing practised or perfect in the way she breathes, the way she talks to you. It's natural, and that's what makes it perfect.

Those manicured nails, adored in acrylic and fake jewels burrow into the skin on your shoulders, holding you down as she grinds atop you. Her hips move with all the skill that they do when she's performing, but there's an aggression to it that you don't see when the music is playing. This is a different type of performance—a different rhythm.

Looking up at her as she rides, you would never deny the comparisons. She's beautiful in every sense of the word, and it's hard not to get lost in the sight. There's something about the way the dim light catches her skin. It's like a spotlight on her body, illuminating every curve and dip, and all the shadows in between. It's hard to look away, and when she moves, it's like the light dances on her sweat-stained skin.

Years ago, Miyeon was always the 'lay there and take it' type (and she was so very good at taking it), but these days, there is something raw and wild inside of her. Something that you're not sure what to call, or how it started, or even how to feel about it. All you know is that when the two of you are together, there's an energy in the air that's electric. Like a storm brewing, ready to strike.

It's in the way her eyes lock onto yours as she works her hips up and down your cock, her body trembling with every movement. Her breath is ragged, and she's gasping as if she's running out of oxygen. It's in the way her thighs squeeze around your hips, and her nails dig deeper into your skin. She's riding you like it's her only purpose, her only goal, and the world could be ending around her and she wouldn't stop.

"Cum with me, please," Miyeon begs. And it's truly a beg. It's not a demand or even a polite request. It's a desperate plea, and it's all you need to hear.

Your hands find her slender waist, gripping her, pulling her down hard against you. You thrust, slamming your hips up to meet hers. It's a clash of bodies, and you're not sure where you end and she begins. You share this moment, this sensation. It's as if you're one being, one creature of lust and desire, moving in perfect sync.

Her pussy clenches around you, and her moans fill the air, a song that's just for your ears. Her body shakes, and her eyes flutter shut, her head falling back. You can see her pulse pounding beneath the surface and her chest heaves. She's lost in the sensation, and you're right there with her. You spill into her, your cock throbbing inside as she milks every last drop from you. Her nails scratch down your chest, leaving red lines in their wake, but you barely feel the pain.

When she finally collapses, her body limp and spent, you can't help but pull her close. Her head falls onto your chest, and you wrap your arms around her. Her hair is damp with sweat, and she smells of sex and perfume. She's so light on your chest, but somehow, it's the most comforting weight.

"That was—" you begin, but she stops you.

"Perfect," she whispers.

You chuckle. "Yeah."

"And also the last time."

You don't move at first. You're still breathing heavily, and you can feel her heartbeat against your skin. You're sure she can feel yours, too. You're not sure you heard her right, and you can't bring yourself to respond.

"Did you hear me?" Miyeon asks, her tone suddenly serious.

You swallow hard, then say, "This shit again?"

She sits up, and you can feel the weight of her body leaving yours. You miss it instantly, the warmth of her skin against yours, the way she fit against you perfectly. But now, she's looking down at you, and her expression is hard to read. There's a mix of emotions there, and you can't tell which one is winning.

"Miyeon—" you begin, but she cuts you off.

"Don't," she says. "Don't try to make this something it's not."

"So what the fuck is this?"

She sighs, and you can see the sadness in her eyes. "It's convenient. We have history. We know each other well, but I can't do this anymore."

You're not sure how to respond. You've done this dance before, so many times that you've lost count. And yet, every time, it still stings. You wonder if she'll ever tire of this cycle, or if it's just a part of who she is.

"Look," she says, her voice softening. "I care about you. I do. But... I can't keep doing this."

"You say that every time," you reply, your voice a mix of frustration and resignation.

She looks away, and you can see the guilt in her expression. "I know," she says. "But this time, I mean it. I can't keep hurting you like this. It's not fair to you."

It's all a matter of perspective. From the outside looking in, the two of you might look like young adults in love. Sharing intimacy and vulnerability in the rawest sense. But from the inside looking out, you can't help but feel like you're trapped in a cycle you can't break. It's like a never-ending rollercoaster, with highs that leave you breathless and lows that leave you feeling empty.

"You know what?" you say, sitting up and looking her in the eye. "I'm done with this shit. Every time things seem to settle, you blow it up. What is it? Are you scared of being comfortable?"

"It's not about that," she says, her voice defensive. She slips back a little, drawing herself off your limp cock and resting between your legs on the bed, her thigh resting atop yours. "We're touring soon and I have to prepare. I don't want you to think you'll be able to come see me, or that we can continue to do this. It's over."

"Touring, huh?" you scoff. "That's the same excuse you used before. What about when you're back from touring? What then?" You shake your head. "You drop me a text at 2 am and ask me to come over?"

She looks at you, and for a moment, you think she might waver. But then she shakes her head. "No," she says, her voice firm. "This is it. It's over."

-

It starts in Seoul, you've spent the last few months seeing the posters everywhere. The subway, the billboards, the bus stops, and even the side of buildings. You can't escape them. The images are larger than life, with Miyeon in the centre. She's smiling, her teeth bright white and her eyes sparkling. She's beautiful, as she always is. Around her are the other members of (G)I-DLE, dressed in matching outfits, looking every bit as perfect as she is, and yet, they pale in comparison.

You can't look away from the images. They seem to follow you wherever you go, a constant reminder of what could have been. What could have been, but never will be. It's been a month since you last saw her, and yet you see her every day.

And it's not just the posters. It's the commercials, too. You'll be watching TV, minding your own business, and suddenly, there she is. Selling makeup or shampoo or some other product you have no interest in. But you can't turn away. You're drawn to her, even though you know it's only going to hurt.

You're in the supermarket, trying to get your groceries, when you see the magazine covers. There she is, looking perfect, as always. Her hair is styled, and her makeup is flawless. She's wearing a dress that clings to her curves, and her legs seem to go on forever. It's a far cry from the way she looks when she's with you, but you can't deny that she's still beautiful.

You pick up the magazine, flipping through the pages. There she is, in an interview. She's talking about her upcoming tour and her plans for the future. She's confident and charming, as always. You can't help but read the whole thing, even though you know it's not healthy.

And now, you're in line at the convenience store, picking up some ramen for dinner. You glance up at the TV in the corner, and there she is. Performing. She's on some music show, singing and dancing with the other members of (G)I-DLE. She's in perfect sync with the others, her movements fluid and graceful.

It's not just the public images that haunt you. It's the personal ones, too. The ones you took of her, of the two of you together. You have them all saved on your phone, a constant reminder of what you had. You try not to look at them, but sometimes you can't resist. It's normally what tides you over, between the time when she calls you and in the most innocent of voices, tells you that you should meet.

There are other girls, of course. Your attempts at getting over her by getting under someone else. But the thing is, every girl in Seoul seems to want to be just like Miyeon. You go out on a date with a cute girl, she'll be wearing Miyeon's makeup and her clothes. At a club, a girl will be wearing her perfume. She's everywhere, and you can't escape her. It's maddening.

So you buy one of them a drink. Try to forget about Miyeon for a night. Even when you're between another girl's legs and she's writhing, it's the thought of Miyeon's face that pushes you over the edge. You've even tried to avoid it. You've taken girls that look nothing like her, but it doesn't seem to matter. They're all just a distraction, a way to numb the pain.

And you can't help but feel like you're going to lose your mind.

It's a rainy day when you finally see her. You're walking home from work, huddled under your umbrella, when you spot her across the street. She's walking with her head down, trying to avoid the rain. You stop, and for a moment, you're frozen. You don't know what to do. Should you cross the street and talk to her? Should you pretend you haven't seen her?

Before you can decide, she looks up and sees you. There's a flash of recognition on her face, and then a smile. A real smile. You can't help but smile back.

But she keeps walking.

-

It's just two days out. The opening show of (G)I-DLE's world tour. You've managed to avoid it. You've had no interest in buying a ticket. It's not the music. You still listen to them, and they put on a great performance. It's more the idea of it. You don't want to be part of the crowd, just one face in a sea of fans.

You're drowning your sorrows over a few drinks at some hole in the wall. It's a familiar place. The mood is all youthful energy. It's a record bar, and it's one you're familiar with. You've lost count of the number of times you've waited here, with Miyeon's apartment around the corner, waiting for the text to tell you it's all clear. It's not why you're here, so maybe it's a strange choice, but the records on the wall, the music pumping through the speakers and the drinks in your belly makes it easier to forget.

A girl comes and sits beside you. She's cute, in a plain sort of way. She's not trying too hard. You've been watching her since she came in. She's with a group, but they've been playing darts, and she's come over to the bar by herself. She sits and orders a drink, and for a moment, the two of you just sit there, not saying anything.

You can see her glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. You know she's interested. You know the game. You've played it before.

Maybe you could spend the evening talking to her, maybe even take her home. But the idea doesn't appeal to you. You're not in the mood. Not for her.

So opportunity passes. A man walks up, some business type in a suit. He sits on the other side of her, and the two strike up a conversation. You watch her laugh at his jokes, and he buys her a drink. There's a pang of jealousy, not over this girl in particular, but the fact that he can have this light-hearted fun without the baggage weighing over him.

He doesn't have a Miyeon-shaped hole in his head, but maybe that's just a matter of perspective.

-

You're not drunk. You're sure of that.

Maybe careless is the right word. You've had a few drinks, but not enough to impair your judgment. You're just a little loose, a little less concerned with the consequences of your actions. So you're pressing the button for the top floor of the apartment building you're in, and you're on your way up.

It's not an entirely conscious decision. It's more of a compulsion. You're not sure what you're going to do when you get there, but you can't help yourself. The elevator doors slide open, and you step out into the hallway.

It's late. The lights are dimmed, and the only sound is the hum of the air conditioning. You walk down the hallway, your footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. You stop in front of the door. Apartment 1801.

You knock. There's no answer. You knock again, and this time, you can hear movement inside.

Miyeon opens the door, and for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. She's dressed in an oversized white shirt, and her hair is messy, as though she's been asleep.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asks, her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know," you reply, and it's the truth. You really don't know what you're doing here. You just know that you needed to see her, to be near her. Even if it's just for a moment.

"This is a bad idea," she says, and she starts to close the door. But you reach out and stop her, your hand on the door frame. You're not sure what you're expecting. Maybe for her to yell at you, or tell you to go to hell.

But she doesn't. Instead, she just sighs, and she steps aside, letting you in.

Things are a bit of a mess inside, you can't blame her, she's about to spend months travelling from city to city. Her suitcases are sprawled all over, clothes are laid out on the sofa, and the coffee table is covered in books and papers.

"You can't keep doing this," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've got my tour starting, and we can't keep doing this. I'm leaving the country soon, so I can't keep... seeing you. You need to find someone else."

"I know," you reply, and you do. You know you can't keep doing this. You know you need to move on, to find someone else. But it's hard.

You step closer to her, and she doesn't move away. Your hands find her waist, and you pull her closer to you. She doesn't resist, and for a moment, the two of you are just standing there, breathing in each other's scent. And you can't help but think of all the times you've been in this exact position, with your hands on her waist and her body pressed against yours. You think of all the times you've kissed her, touched her, fucked her. All the times you've shared.

"I just came to say goodbye," you whisper, and you mean it. You don't expect anything from her. You're not even sure why you're here. You just know that you need to see her one last time before you say goodbye for good.

She looks up at you, and there's something in her eyes that you can't quite read. It's not anger or sadness. It's more like resignation.

"Goodbye, then," she says, and she kisses you.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative. But it quickly grows more intense. Your hands slide down to cup her ass, and you lift her. She wraps her legs around your waist, and the two of you stumble backwards until you hit the wall. Her hands are in your hair, pulling at the strands as she kisses you with a ferocity that takes your breath away.

Beneath the shirt is only a pair of panties, tight against her ass. You run your hands over them, squeezing and groping, and she moans into your mouth. Her hips grind against yours, and you can feel her heat through the fabric of her panties. You want her, and you know she wants you, too.

"Fuck me one last time," she whispers in your ear, and you don't need to be told twice. Miyeon wraps her thighs high on your waist, making you crane your neck back a little to keep kissing her, but it means you can unbuckle your trousers and push them down. Your hands are back on her ass, pulling her panties to the side, and your fingers run through her lower lips. She's wet. She's already ready for you. She always has been, from the first time to this one.

She's so light that it makes it easy to step forward and turn, now it's her turn to be pinned against the wall. Holding Miyeon by that tight little ass, you lower her onto your cock and she fits so easily that she slides down the entire length. Her head is thrown back, and her mouth hangs open in pleasure.

There's a gasp, of both surprise and pleasure as you fill her. You can feel her walls stretching around you, accommodating your size. You give her a moment to get used to the feeling, and then you start to move. You pull out almost all the way, before sliding back in, and her moans fill the air. Her body is pressed tightly against yours, and you can feel her heartbeat racing.

Her shoulders are pressed square against the wall, it's enough to support her. Her legs are tight around your waist. Every time you pull back, you draw her hips away from the wall, only to drive her back against it with every thrust. She bounces between the hard surface and your cock. It's so forceful that you're worried you might break something, and that only drives you to fuck her harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud in the apartment, and you're sure the neighbours can hear, but you don't care.

You're nailing Miyeon to the wall with the sort of rough recklessness that only comes at the end of a relationship. You have no more fucks left to give about the consequences, and you're making the most of your last hurrah.

Miyeon's moaning loudly, her voice rising in pitch with every thrust. You're hitting all the right spots, and you can tell she's close. You angle your hips in the way you know she likes, and she cries out, her body shaking as she comes undone around you. You keep going, fucking her through her orgasm, and it's not long before you're close to the edge too.

Miyeon's moans are in your ear, they're so familiar. The way her body moves with yours. It's a sensation that's been burned into your memory, and you can't imagine ever forgetting it. You feel her nails scratching at your shirt. It's not enough to break skin, but you'll feel it tomorrow, a dull ache in your back.

"Give me a night to remember," she whispers, her voice breathy and desperate. "Fuck me so hard that I can't forget."

You're stumbling towards the kitchen table now, and she's clinging to you as if her life depended on it. You set her down, planting her cute ass on the glass surface. You set her back with a gentle hand on her chest, lying her flat against the surface, her hair splayed out behind her. She's looking up at you with that regal stare, the one she gives in the magazines, but it's not the perfect image you've seen on the posters. No, Miyeon's flush, and she's all the better for it.

In the most loving way you can, you tell her, "I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

Your hands are on her thighs, pushing them apart, and she's so wet that you can see it glistening on her skin. You slide into her easily, and she cries out as you bottom out inside her. You start to move, but it's uncharacteristically slow. "Take off your shirt," you tell her.

Her hands are too shaky for the small buttons but she's trying her best, starting from the bottom and working up. Even with your controlled thrusts, Miyeon is distracted and her hands slip more than once. You don't help, you just keep your grip on her thighs and watch the show.

A few buttons later the shirt is falling open at her stomach. Slender and toned, but still soft. The years of performing have given her a body worth worshipping. Every little defined line is an accomplishment of its own, and you've been there to appreciate them. You plant a hand on her abs and push her down against the table. Her hands are still struggling with the buttons.

"Come on," you say. "You're taking forever."

"Fuck you," she gasps.

You can't help but chuckle, and then you pick up the pace, fucking her a little faster, a little harder. Her hands are shaking even more now, and you're not making it any easier for her. She struggles another one open, then another, and then her shirt is open, exposing her bare chest to you.

You're not in a hurry now. You're taking your time, enjoying the sight of her naked body. Her breasts are perfect teardrops, with small, pink nipples that are hard and begging to be touched. You take one in your hand, rolling it between your fingers, and she arches her back, pressing her chest into your touch. You pinch her nipple lightly, and she cries out, her hips bucking against yours.

You're still fucking her, still driving into her with long, deep strokes, and you can feel her body start to tense up as she gets closer and closer to her release. You want to make this last, but the thing about Miyeon is that she's just so easy to make cum.

She throws her hands above her head, showing herself in all her carnal glory, and her back arches off the table. Her mouth is open in a silent scream, and her eyes are screwed shut. It's beautiful, and it's also the reason you know you're not over her. Maybe you never will be. It's not just the physical attraction, it's something more, and you're not sure what it is, but it's there.

You take hold of her ankles, pulling her legs up so the underside of her thighs rests against your stomach, and her calves lie on your shoulders. Miyeon's ankles cross behind your neck, holding on tight while you keep fucking her.

Now every thrust is punctuated by a slap against her thighs, the sound is almost as beautiful as her moans.

It doesn't matter whether she loves you, or even cares about you, and you've long learned not to ask questions that you won't like the answer to. When you both need each other the most, you find a way back together. So maybe that's love. In a strange, fucked up sort of way.

There are tears in her eyes now, and you know that they're not from pain. There's a tremble in her body, and you can tell she's about to lose it. You want to take her through it, so you take a second to adjust the angle you're fucking her at, hitting that spot that drives her crazy. It's a simple change, a different hip placement, and suddenly, you're slamming against that spot, over and over, making sure every movement is perfect.

"Don't stop, I'm-" she tries, but her words trail off into incoherence. Her body spasms and her pussy clenches around you like a vice. She lets out a strangled moan, her limbs locked in place as she shakes and shudders, lost in pleasure.

You can only admire the spectacle of it all, she is a performer after all. Her body is a work of art, every curve, every line, designed just for your eyes. This is a sight you've had many times before, and each time it feels like the first, even when it's the last.

You can't allow it to end, it's a determined thought that you repeat over and over as you hold back your orgasm, instead opting to pick Miyeon up. You carry her just a few steps until you fall back onto the sofa. The show must go on.

Her legs spread wide around your hips. You let her sit back on your lap and slowly ride you, her hips moving lazily as she catches her breath. It's not fast enough to get either of you off, but it's enough to keep the fire burning. You're leaning back, just admiring the sight of her. She looks down at you with hooded eyes, biting her lip, lost in her pleasure. Your hands explore her body, roaming over her smooth skin, feeling her muscles flex as she moves. She leans back a little further, placing a hand against your knee to steady herself. That new angle hits a sweet spot inside her, and her eyes flutter shut, her lips parting slightly.

"You really want this to be the last time you ride me?" you ask. It's not much of an argument, but you don't want this to be over.

Her movements are languid, she rolls her hips sensually, the tempo steady as she grinds against you. "It's... for the best."

She sounds unconvincing, even to herself, and her voice trails off as she loses herself to the pleasure. She leans forward again, bracing herself with her hands on your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin. She picks up the pace, her hips rocking back and forth, riding you with purpose.

"That's it," you breathe, meeting her movements with your own, pushing deeper inside her. "Don't act like you aren't gonna miss this."

Her fingers dig into your shoulders even harder, and she rides you with renewed vigour, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth hanging open. You can tell she's getting close, her body trembling with the effort, her thighs quivering around you. Her perky little tits bounce their most seductive dance, drawing your hand towards one. You cup it so perfectly in your palm and Miyeon lets out the softest of whines.

"Miss it," Miyeon pants. "But we... we can't."

You take that as the cue, you grab her waist and thrust up into her tight, warm cunt. She cries out, and you do it again, and again, and again. You slam into her, your hips lifting off the sofa, fucking her hard and fast. She's panting now, her head thrown back, her hair a tangled mess. She's bouncing on your cock, her breasts shaking with every thrust. Her thighs clench around you, and she starts to cum, her walls convulsing around you. You keep fucking her, prolonging her pleasure, milking every last bit of bliss from her.

When she finally collapses on top of you, her body spent and exhausted, you roll her over and lay her out on the sofa. She's limp, barely able to move. Her eyes are unfocused, staring up at you with a dazed expression. She looks completely and utterly satisfied. It's almost a shame that she has a flight in a few hours.

With what little energy remains, she hooks one leg over the back of the sofa, presenting herself to you. You spread her legs wider and lower your head between them.

"It's not like anyone else can make you cum like I can," you say, running your tongue along her slit. She's hot and swollen from all the fucking, but she's dripping wet, and you lap up her juices eagerly.

"That's not the point," Miyeon groans right before she clasps her thighs around your head.

If the only way you could ever make your points was between Miyeon's legs, well that would be alright by you. But for now, you settle for latching onto her clit and sucking firmly, while she writhes beneath you, her back arching off the sofa. Miyeon tastes how only Miyeon can, and you lick, suck and slurp up every drop you can get.

You keep your hands busy, roaming her perfect skin, groping her ass, her thighs, and finally, when she's so close to the edge, slipping two fingers into her tight hole. The sensation is overwhelming. You can feel her walls tighten around your digits, squeezing them hard as you finger-fuck her. You twist and curl your fingers, finding that spot that drives her crazy, and her hips buck up to meet your hand, grinding against you.

The sensation is mind-numbing, but you refuse to yield. You keep licking and sucking, your fingers pounding in and out of her. She's a whimpering mess, her hands gripping the armrest of the sofa, her knuckles white. Her eyes are screwed shut, and she's biting her lip so hard you think she might draw blood. You can feel her walls clamp down around you, and you know she's close. You press on, doubling your efforts, determined to make her cum so hard that she forgets her name. You want to ruin her.

"Please don't stop," she begs. "Just keep doing that and I'm gonna-"

As if you'd stop now. You redouble your efforts, fucking her with your fingers, curling them just right, pressing against that spot that makes her toes curl. You feel a rush of wetness as she cums, her thighs clamping around your head, trapping you there. You don't stop, you keep finger-fucking her, extending her orgasm. Her body twitches and spasms, and you keep licking and sucking, drinking down every last drop of her pleasure.

When it's finally over, you look up to see Miyeon sprawled out on the sofa. "We can't keep doing this." Her chest heaving, and she's covered in sweat. She looks completely fucked out, and you love it. It's a moment to commit to memory whenever you happen across her image, so easily found these days. You want her to remember this too.

"One last one," you say, and she shakes her head, but you already know she'll give in. She always does. Because she needs this as much as you do. One more chance to enjoy each other. She doesn't resist when you guide her into position, flipping her over so she's on all fours, presenting her perfect ass to you. Miyeon reaches back, spreading her cheeks and inviting you in, while looking back at you from over her shoulder.

Miyeon doesn't moan, she squeals in delight when you sink inside of her. If it had felt good earlier, it's nothing compared to now. She's so slick and loose from previous orgasms that you slip into her with ease, filling her up completely. Your hands grip her hips, pulling her back onto you with every thrust, and she meets you eagerly, pushing back against you.

"Do you really think you're ready to give this up?" you ask, as you pound into her, your balls slapping against her clit with each thrust. "To never feel my cock inside you again?"

"Done it before," Miyeon responds through gritted teeth. She doesn't sound certain. You wrap a hand around her neck and pull her upright, holding her flush against you. With your other arm around her waist, you pin her against your chest while she desperately rolls her hips in search of stimulation.

"Yet you came right back, didn't you?" you whisper in her ear, before letting her go. Miyeon falls forward, catching herself on her forearms. Her hands grip the armrest and you plant a firm spank on her ass. "Always do."

Miyeon stops craning her neck to look back at you, faces forward and then says probably the last thing you would expect, "I have a boyfriend."

Your motions are seized, bringing the whole encounter to a sudden, crashing halt. You don't know what to say, so you just stay there, inside her.

"You weren't supposed to come here tonight," Miyeon mutters. "We weren't supposed to do this ever again."

"So... why did you?"

"Because I'm stupid. And I can't get enough of you. It's hard to say no when you show up with that look in your eyes."

She keeps talking, but you can't hear her. Your mind is racing. Jealousy stirs in the pit of your stomach, and the urge to claim what's yours takes over.

Your hands grip Miyeon's hips, pulling her back onto you roughly. She yelps, her body jolting as you slide deeper inside her. "Then tell me to stop and I will."

There's hesitation in her response. For just a brief moment, she hesitates, like she's actually considering it.

"Don't stop."

It's all you need. Your grip tightens, fingers digging into her flesh as you pull her back onto you again and again. Your hips snap forward with each thrust, burying yourself inside her completely.

You take hold of her hair, wrapping it around your fist, pulling her head back, exposing the elegant column of her neck, making her back arch. It's beautiful, like something straight out of a painting. She whimpers, a little mewl that's equal parts pain and pleasure, and the noise only spurs you on, driving you to fuck her harder, faster, your pace relentless.

"Don't stop!" she pleads, her voice ragged, desperate.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the lewd squelch of your cock plunging into her wet cunt, and the creaking of the couch beneath you, all punctuated by her moans and cries, rising in pitch, her voice breaking. Each thrust seems to draw another sound from her, a symphony of ecstasy.

Her nails drag across the leather surface of the couch, as you drive into her petite frame with unrestrained abandon. You fuck her like a toy, like a tool built to extract pleasure from your cock, and she takes it because it's what she needs. What you both need. And maybe that's the root of your problem. The way you feed off each other. The way you're drawn together like magnets, no matter how hard you try to resist.

You reach under Miyeon with one hand, rubbing furious circles around her engorged clit, while the other wraps loosely around her throat. You apply pressure, not enough to cut off her air completely, just enough to make her aware of your power over her. The way she surrenders herself to you, trusting you to take her to heights of pleasure she's never experienced with anyone else, it's intoxicating.

And Miyeon knows it, the little tease. She uses it to her advantage. She uses you to fulfil her deepest desires, knowing full well that you'll oblige.

You should hate her for it. A rational person would.

You feel Miyeon tense up beneath you, her body stiffening as you relentlessly rub her clit, and you can feel her orgasm approaching, building deep within her core. She gasps, her breaths coming in shallow pants, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against the sofa. She pushes back against you, meeting your thrusts with equal fervour, her body desperate for release.

And you give it to her. Hard. Without relent. Your hand presses firmer against her clit, your other wrapped loosely around her neck, her delicate skin hot and sweaty against your palm, pulsing in time with her beating heart.

"Look at me," you grunt. Miyeon turns her head and it's all in those big beautiful brown eyes. Eyes you've gazed into so often. Eyes you've missed seeing these last few weeks. She's so close that you could lean forward and kiss her, but you resist, choosing to prolong her agony just a little longer. "Cum for me."

Miyeon obeys, surrendering herself completely. Her eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering shut as she crashes over the edge, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. You don't let up, you keep pumping, driving her through it, keeping her flying high. Your fingers rub faster, harder against her sensitive nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her body shudders and shakes, her walls clamping down around you, milking you in waves. It's an incredible sensation, the way she squeezes you, and pulls you deeper into her depths, urging you to join her in ecstasy.

She's spilling down onto the sofa. Miyeon is rarely this messy, but it only happens when you really put her through the wringer, when she's so overwhelmed by pleasure that her body loses all control, giving itself over entirely to the blissful release.

She might be someone else's girlfriend now, but you're still going to fill her.

That thought pushes you past the breaking point. With a primal roar, you bury yourself inside her, bottoming out inside her depths, and you spill your seed deep within her core, coating her walls with your warmth, claiming her for yourself.

Miyeon falls limply to the cushions. She lies there, breathless, her chest heaving, her hair dishevelled. The sounds of her pleasure fade, replaced by the sounds of heavy breathing. Your chest rises and falls in rhythm with hers. You slump over her, supporting yourself on weak forearms so that you hover inches above her.

Her limp little body slips off you and onto the couch. Miyeon just lies there, panting, her chest heaving, her eyes closed. She's coated in sweat and her hair is plastered to her forehead. Her clothes are scattered all over the floor, and she lies in a pool of her own mess.

"You should leave," she whispers. You want to stay and argue the case, but you know that the ship has sailed. So you nod.

Miyeon doesn't watch you leave, she remains curled up on the sofa, with a mixture of your juices seeping out of her pussy and leaving a mess on the leather cushions. She waits until she hears the door click shut behind you to even move.

Once more for old time's sake. Once more for closure. It was fun while it lasted, but now it's over. 

Though, you would argue, it’s all just a matter of perspective.

[suunani]

sweeter than cookies ( sung hanbin )

▍ hanbin needs your help for baking cookies.

content : 1300 words, male reader, neighbor!hanbin, fluff fluff and only fluff, hanbin don’t know how to bake cookies (or did he?), they’re both crushing on each other ig.

you were halfway through your favorite tv show when the doorbell rang.

it wasn’t a sound you heard often. living alone meant minimal interruptions, and the only person who ever stopped by was your neighbor, sung hanbin — but that was still rare.

hanbin, the sweet and ridiculously attractive guy next door, always seemed busy with something.

and as much as you’d like to spend more time with him, your interactions were mostly polite greetings in the hallway or quick chats about packages and apartment maintenance.

which is why you weren’t expecting him tonight, especially when you opened the door to see him completely covered in flour.

“hey…” hanbin started, his voice hesitant.

his apron was crooked, his dark hair flecked with white powder, and he was holding a tray of what looked like… well, something burnt beyond recognition.

“i know this is random, but… i need your help. please.”

for a second, you just blinked at him, trying to process what you were seeing.

sung hanbin, always so polished and put-together, stood before you looking like he’d lost a battle with a bakery. his wide, pleading eyes locked onto yours, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“help with what?” you asked, though the evidence was pretty clear.

“baking,” he admitted sheepishly.

he glanced down at the tray in his hands, then back at you. “it’s my friend’s birthday tomorrow, and i thought it’d be nice to make something myself, but… well.”

he gestured at the tray, his expression somewhere between defeated and embarrassed.

your laughter bubbled up before you could stop it.

“hanbin, what even is that?”

“cookies!” he said, trying to sound confident, though the blackened lumps on the tray told a different story. “at least, they were supposed to be.”

you leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you took in the full picture : his flushed face, the smudges of flour on his hands, the way his apron was hanging loosely on one side.

it was hilarious, yes, but also ridiculously cute.

“and you thought i’d be the one to fix this disaster?”

“well…” hanbin shifted his weight, his lips pulling into a shy smile. “i’ve seen you cook. through your window sometimes. you look like you know what you’re doing. and, honestly, i’m desperate.”

there was no way you could say no to him — not when he was looking at you like that.

“alright,” you said, stepping aside to let him in. “let’s see what we can do.”

your kitchen wasn’t particularly big, but it was well-equipped. hanbin stood awkwardly near the counter, holding the burnt tray like it might crumble to ashes at any second.

you grabbed it from him and set it aside, then started pulling out ingredients from your cabinets.

“first off,” you said, turning back to him. “we’re starting from scratch. no offense, but i don’t trust whatever recipe you were using.”

hanbin chuckled nervously. “none taken. i think i might’ve missed a few steps… or all of them.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you didn’t follow the recipe?”

“well, i skimmed it,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “and then i kind of guessed on some of the measurements.”

“right,” you said, trying to suppress a laugh. “lesson one : baking is not guessing. you can’t just throw things together and hope for the best.”

hanbin pouted — a real, full-on pout — and you had to look away for a second to keep your composure.

“okay, chef,” he said, a playful lilt in his voice. “teach me your ways.”

you walked him through the steps, starting with creaming butter and sugar.

hanbin stood next to you, intently watching your hands as you measured ingredients and explained each step. he was surprisingly attentive, nodding along and asking questions that made you pause and smile.

but it didn’t take long for his focus to waver.

“like this?” hanbin asked, taking the spatula from you and giving the mixture a tentative stir.

“almost,” you said, leaning in to adjust his grip. “you want to fold it, not just mix it around.”

you didn’t miss the way his breath hitched slightly when your hand brushed against his. you glanced up, catching him staring at you, his lips parted just enough to make your heart stutter.

“you okay?” you asked, your voice quieter than before.

he blinked, his cheeks coloring faintly.

“yeah! yeah, just… trying to learn,” he said, his tone a little too bright.

you didn’t push it, though the way he quickly turned back to the bowl made you chuckle under your breath.

as the baking continued, hanbin’s attempts at subtle glances grew less and less discreet. he’d watch you as you rolled out the dough, his gaze lingering when you licked a bit of frosting off your finger.

when you caught him staring for the third time, you finally decided to address it.

“is there something on my face?” you asked, breaking the silence.

hanbin froze, his eyes widening. “what? no! i was just…” he trailed off, clearly flustered.

“just what?” you teased, leaning against the counter and folding your arms.

he opened his mouth, closed it, then groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“i’m not good at this,” he mumbled.

“at baking?”

“at… at pretending i’m only here for baking tips,” he admitted, his voice muffled behind his hands.

that caught you off guard. “what do you mean?”

hanbin peeked at you through his fingers, his ears turning red. “what i mean… i didn’t just come here because of the cookies. i wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”

for a moment, you just stared at him, your mind racing to catch up. he wasn’t joking. the shy, hopeful look on his face made that clear.

“well,” you said slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “you could’ve just asked.”

hanbin’s hands dropped, his eyes meeting yours in surprise. “really?”

“yeah,” you said, stepping closer. “i wouldn’t have said no. though i have to admit, this whole flour-covered, burnt-cookie situation is kind of charming.”

he laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “great. so i didn’t have to humiliate myself?”

“not at all,” you said, grinning. “but i’m glad you did. otherwise, i wouldn’t get to see you like this.”

“like what?”

“adorable,” you replied, your voice soft.

hanbin’s breath hitched again, but this time, he didn’t look away. “you think i’m adorable?”

“i do,” you said, holding his gaze. “and next time, maybe we can bake something together from the start. no excuses needed.”

his lips curved into a shy, radiant smile. “i’d like that.”

by the time the cookies were baked and cooling on the counter, the awkwardness between you had melted away. hanbin leaned against the counter, watching you carefully place the last batch onto a cooling rack.

“these turned out way better than mine,” he said, his tone light.

“you don’t say,” you teased, glancing at the burnt tray he’d brought over.

hanbin laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “thanks for helping me. and for, you know… not kicking me out after i showed up looking like this.”

“hey, i kind of like this version of you,” you said, smirking. “flour-covered and hopelessly cute.”

he groaned, though the smile on his face betrayed him.

“you’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“probably not,” you admitted, grabbing a cookie and handing it to him. “but i’ll make it up to you. next time, you can watch me embarrass myself just for trying to impress you.”

hanbin paused, his cookie halfway to his mouth.

“you don’t have to try to impress me,” he said quietly.

the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

then he smiled, breaking the tension. “but i wouldn’t mind watching you bake more. you’re kind of amazing at it.”

“careful,” you said, grinning. “keep saying things like that, and i might think you actually like me.”

hanbin’s smile softened. “maybe i do.”

and just like that, you knew this wasn’t going to be the last time hanbin showed up at your door.

[thedropsofblood]

Come on fuck me emo boy

Warnings: Semi-public sex, risky sex, handjob (user receiving), deny of climax, implied prep, both char and reader are in the final year of high school.

As the school's quiet kid, he doesn't have much going for him. His grades are completely average, he doesn't have any social connections, if anything, he's kinda boring. Then how the fuck did he bag an angel like you?

That's probably what the other students think of when they heard of you and him being a couple. But have you ever heard of the phrase "never judge a book by its covers"? Yeah, your boyfriend was a completely different person outside of school.

A closet full of black band t-shirts, tight jeans, leather jackets. A room filled with band posters and a black electric guitar placed neatly in the corner. He was a complete and utter emo. You might as well have two boyfriends with how different he was at school compared to behind close doors.

What was supposed to be an innocent little shopping trip at the nearby mall, turned into a fuck session in the back of his parents' car in the parking lot. You internally thank whoever created the black window tint because without them, you're sure at least three people would've seen you guys by now.

He kept you close to his body as he thrust up into you, gritting his teeth to keep himself from groaning and biting onto your neck. He hated how he had to refrain from leaving any marks on your body, he couldn't bring himself to get you in trouble for his actions though, so he kept his mouth busy by sucking onto your nipple instead.

Your hand gripped onto the back of his neck, the other covering your mouth as the back of your head rested on the window. Pre-cum leaking out and onto his black t-shirt, one of his hands reached down to stroke your cock, his thumb covering your tip right before you could finish.

You grits your teeth, your legs shaking as eyes widened. He had the audacity to continue on, even when he was blocking you from the sweet relief of cumming. It was overstimulating, but god, was it hot coming from someone like him.

You tried to say something but all that came out was meaningless blabbering being cut off by moans and whimpers. His free hand moved to put your leg on his shoulder, he picked up his pace as his breath grew heavier, leaning in to kiss you and greedily drink up your moans like a hungry man.

Right as he was about to cum, he pulled out at the same time as he lets go of your cock, watching breathlessly as your torso and the seat underneath got stained. He leaned in to give you a deep kiss, seemingly happy and content with his relationship with you.

A/N: This was so short and rushed blame my sleepiness, I might do a part 2 on this bc I love the idea of this char sm, also guess who just realized they spelled the original tag wrong all alone?

[yurikosinterlude]

hi 💓💓

can you write a drabble of megumi fushiguro and the reader enemies to lovers??

cw: {enemies to lovers, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, kind of spicy (?)} wc: 700

megumi fushiguro hated your guts. it wasn't really unlike him to feel this way towards people, it seemed he hated everyone except for his friends (yuji is debatable). megumi's hatred for you, though, was...different. he couldn't get you out of his mind, he'd stay awake at night because even the mere thought of you made him so upset that he couldn't sleep.

you were perfect. perfect from your grades to your cursed technique, so in your mind, it was natural for megumi to be intimidated by you.

you decided to use this intimidation to your advantage, teasing and pushing every button that megumi had, and then putting on your usual innocent act when confronted by him.

megumi was at his limit. he had grown sick of your little games. you thought you were so funny, didn't you? you probably thought that capitalizing on his aversion towards you would make him crack, but this only fueled every negative feeling he had towards you. he was gonna find out every little thing that made you tick.

from that point on, megumi was silent around you, but he stared at you like a wolf ready to tear apart his prey. this was when he noticed things about you differently, the way your hair always looked perfect, like you had spent hours on it in the morning, the way your eyes looked in the afternoon sunlight, even the way your nosed scrunched up when you laughed.

but he had to focus on the task at hand, he had to get you to be the one to crumble, he had to see you defenseless and at his mercy. how he would do this, he didn't know.

it was a sunny afternoon, a cool breeze complimenting the sight of trees filled with orange and red leaves, and the smell of pumpkin spice flooding the classroom. you stayed inside while everyone else played in the leaves, doodling trees and different plants you saw from the open window by your seat at the front of the classroom. you didn't even notice megumi walk in with a slight devilish grin plastered on his face.

megumi had finally figured out how to push your buttons, he was gonna start by 'accidentally' spilling a hot latte over your sketchbook. (he couldn't think of any better ideas) you finally notice megumi walking towards you, a cup from the café across the street in his hand.

"is that for me?" you ask, taking out one airpod from your ear. "how sweet of you!" before he can even attempt to tilt the cup over your drawings, you take the cup out of his hands, and start to sip the coffee little by little. "so what did you come to talk to me about?" you ask, taking out your other airpod. "I-uh..huh?" megumi stammers, did he want to talk to you about something? if he did, he definitely forgot. "actually, I have something to say first." you say, turning your gaze to the black loafers you wear with your school uniform.

"I..I like you megumi. I have for a long time, and I know you have some like one sided beef with me, but I just want you to know that I don't feel negatively towards you at all.."

what. now this definitely wasn't what megumi was expecting at all. he stands there, in shock, unable to form sentences. "I- er- um.."

"oh my gosh, do I have to do everything?" suddenly, you take megumi's face and smash your lips onto his, spilling the latte all over the classroom floor. the taste of pumpkin spice and cinnamon still decorating your soft, plush lips.

just as megumi is about lift his hands up to your hair, you abrputly end the kiss. "I-I'm sorry" you say, picking up your books and bolting out of the classroom. megumi stands there, still frozen, attempting to process whatever the hell just happened.

just then a voice breaks the silence, "what..was that..?" it was yuji, nobara right next to him, both in almost as much shock as megumi.

"I...I don't know..."

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a/n: HI GUYS! I'm fairly new to drabbles, so sorry if this is really long for a drabble (╥_╥)

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