#Should I even ask how your week has been?

[webism]

You make a spur-of-the-moment detour to your exes house on his birthday.

ex!Toji Fushiguro x afab reader. 4.2k. read on ao3

cw: a little bit o' angst, some drinking, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, toji doesnt wash his sheets i know it.

One dark night cursed with rain is all it takes to bring you back to Toji’s front door. Knuckles rapping on wood despite your own mind— it’s the warmest night of the week, humidity seeps into your bones. 

Toji opens his door and greets you with silence. You stand, a vision of something desperate. The man who had once loved you so tenderly watches you with stale eyes. You feel sick for remembering it’s his birthday. You also feel sick knowing he’s spent it in this damn house.

Not a word is shared, sweet nor acidic. Oh your Toji, stoic and silent. Not a thing has changed. 

He steps to the side, offering you refuge from the dreary weather. His eyes are on his driveway, left empty: you walked here. It’s apparent in the way your hair shines wet with rain. 

He used to lecture you for having wet hair in late hours like this, even when it’s warm. His mother used to tell him, hand gentle on the side of his face, ‘Toji, you’ll get a cold.’ 

He’s silent still as you walk past him, and cross the threshold into the house you used to waste away in. You don’t bother to take your shoes off: maybe in an attempt to convince yourself not to stay long. Though you do feel hauntingly warm trapped within such cold walls. 

The door clicks shut. Twelve seconds of silence ensue— you count. 

His first word, “Wine?” 

You ponder the butterfly effect. What total disaster will occur as a result of playing into this fever you’ve been having? How many casualties will you be accountable for? Will blood stain your hands? An ugly pit settles in your stomach. 

You nod regardless, there’s nothing in this house that can’t be nursed with a drink. Toji nods and god have you missed those eyes that soften just a little at the corners when he looks at you.

He only has the cheap stuff, and he has to shuffle through a few empty bottles to find it. Red. It pours smooth, Toji’s hands tight on the neck of the bottle as he bleeds it for you. The rain outside gets heavier: you think of it as a sign you left at the right time. Though, if you hadn’t left at all you’d still be dry. 

It’s been months since your last drink. You down the glass in two sips, you hate the taste but accept when Toji offers you another. What’s a night like this without relapse?

A step forward. 

“This place hasn’t changed,” you note, watching as Toji walks from kitchen to living room, steps heavy and haunting. He stands a few feet from you, back pressed against the wall. “You should move into something more comfortable.”

“A townhouse?” He teases you.

Yes. A townhouse like you. Yours, maybe— or the one across the road that’s just gone up for sale. It has a privacy screen you know he’d love and no broken tiles and no bad memories. You could walk the hot pavement to ask for some sugar when you’re out, and he could tell you he doesn’t have any, because why would he have sugar? And when you would go home deflated, he would run out to buy a bag of sugar, two— one white and one brown because you never specified— and leave them at your front door. Yes. A townhouse. 

“No,” you look down. “You’re not a townhouse type of man.”

Toji exhales. He asks you, in a tone laced with something dark, what type of man he is. 

You gesture around you, the wallpaper is beginning to peel. He’s this type of man.

Toji looks at you, and he asks ‘why are you here? it’s been a year and your life is finally stable again,’ but he asks with his eyes, because those words would never leave his lips. You hate that you can still read him. You wonder if you’ll speak his language forever. 

“Happy birthday,” you say. “I didn’t get you anything.”

Silence, and then– “good.”

You could have emptied your wallet for him with ease. You know he needs things: new socks, a watch that isn't broken, a new beginning. Toji has never taken anything from you though, not gifts or favours or cuddles after sex. You hate that about him: always a provider, never being cared for. Such a shell of a happy man, you count yourself special for having seen him smile. Such gifts have always been your favourite.

“How's…” he trails off, a frail attempt at not suffocating you in the silence he knows you hate. The words don't meet his lips, though: how's your new life? Finally on a comfortable wage? And how are the neighbours? Are they noisy like mine are? Do you stay up laughing at their awkward sex noises like we did? Do you fuck a warm body to drown them out just like us? Do you live trying to recreate domestic life with me? Do you miss the filth? The broken sleep? Were you ever happy? Why are you here?

Toji  bites his tongue. “More wine?”

“No, thanks.”

The rain continues. Despite the roof over your head, you feel heavy with water: something uneasy settles inside of you, and Toji steps closer. He’s wearing black, as usual, and his sleeves are short so you're able to notice he’s added onto his tattoos. Your initial still sits untouched just by his elbow, he’s held onto at least some of you.

Maybe words don’t need to be shared. You step forward. He follows suit.

Before you can stop yourself, you are standing toe-to-toe with Toji Fushiguro. You can watch his shoulders raise with each deep breath he takes, and as you lift your gaze, you look death in the eyes. Sorcerer killer. As beautiful as ever. 

You feel small and powerless, without purpose or justification. Must you always think for yourself? You’re tired of wrestling with that mind of yours. In the cold house you once shared with him, you suddenly forget how to make good decisions. You raise your hands, and touch his lip with your fingertips. He has a new scar, one that runs from the corner of his mouth downwards. You want to kiss it away. You wonder if he pays it much attention in the mirror, is the memory of getting it as bad as the memory of you?

“You shouldn't be here,” Toji slips his large hands to your waist. You feel at home. “Left for a better life.”

“Yeah.”

“I can walk you home.”

“Shut up, Toji. It’s your birthday.”

Relapse: god it tastes good. Toji kisses you like it’s his first and last taste of you. It's deep and yearning and laced with lust and anger and an awful fear of loss. But at the same time, he kisses you like it’s a tuesday evening, and he's just now home from work and you’ve been busy all day with the house, which is quaint and clean and not run-down like his. Maybe a townhouse.

His tongue slips into your mouth, and he kisses you like he had once planned to on your wedding night: your back hits the wall, but his hand is behind your head to cushion it. A tear slips down your face, overwhelmed by the presence of who has haunted so many of your dreams. You want more of him, you want to indulge yourself on the forbidden: what a taboo his touch has become.

“Please,” you speak against his lips. 

“On the bed.”

Toji steps away from you, and nods down the hall. You know your way, you know this house like it's built from your own bones. Memories flash through your mind with each step you take towards his bedroom, the one that used to be yours, too. You let yourself smile, remembering being carried to bed after a drink too many, or spending hours curled up under the sheets waiting for your love to return home. Eating breakfast in bed together, the sex that would follow.

His footsteps are heavy against the wood behind you, he shadows you as you walk into his room, once yours too. The bed has moved, it’s pushed against the wall now— you suppose there isn’t need for someone else to have room to get in on the other side. You wonder how many people he’s fucked to forget about you in the sheets that used to smell like you. 

You can only worry so much, jealousy doesn’t do one well when it’s barely justified. You sit on the edge of the mattress, running your fingers along the soft covers and try not to think of all the times you've been here before. You used to sit and watch him get dressed, the troublesome time it would take to get his clothes on worth the sight of his bare skin covered to remain for your eyes alone. You’d daydream sometimes of watching him dress for different circumstances; maybe in another life you’d sit in the master bedroom of a townhouse and watch your Toji dress for the picket-fence desk job dream rather than for murder.

And yet, the bed seems to swallow you whole. This room, even after you left, remains half yours. A cursory glance to the wardrobe shows it still half empty, dust laden over the dresser your perfumes once sat atop. The curtains covering his window are the same ones you had picked out on sale in the spirit of making a house a home. You still linger. 

Toji leans against the wall by the window, his toned arms crossed over his chest as he watches you look around. His lips part slowly, but he closes his mouth and clears his throat when you lean back on your elbows. You stare ahead at nothing in particular, thinking of all those nights where you laid awake, watching him in his sleep, worrying about whether he’d come home in a box the following week. You never stopped worrying, really.

With every passing second you feel more and more guilty. Selfish for imposing on Toji's life without you, estranged for leaving a townhouse nine blocks over to return to the home you had left so long ago.

“I miss you,” you say softly.

Toji doesn’t move, doesn’t speak— you can hear the rain worsen outside. You think you’ve fucked things up—ruined the relapse—when Toji pushes himself off the wall and reaches you in two long steps. He looks down at you, large frame towering over your body in a way that makes you feel both small and seen at the same time. You sit in his shadow, under his punitive gaze, looking up at the man you had once promised a forever to. 

Toji leans down, meets you in height and kisses you once again. This time, the kiss is slow, languid and gentle in a way you remember once hating. You’d always yearn for the rough, mean side of Toji that could make you see stars in seconds. You used to want the Zenin to come out and settle your hunger. But now, with the gentle way in which Toji takes your lips between his, you couldn’t imagine wanting anyone but him.

He kisses you like a man home from war which, in a way, he always will be. When his hands come to rest on your waist, you’re confronted by the memories of his touch: soft on your skin, tender and caring despite the roughness of his very being. When he draws your thighs apart and kneels between them, you hate yourself for ever leaving. How cruel you were. 

Toji sets his fingers under the waistband of your pants and pulls them down, panties too, in one swift movement aided only by the raising of your hips. He looks at you, bare and desperate, and his throat goes dry. He tries desperately to clear his mind of all the memories that start like this, with you spread out and laid back in wait of him. He pressed a gentle his to your thigh, then sinks his teeth into your flesh—anything to leave a mark on you again.

“Ow,” you whine, buck your hips up a little in hopes of pleasure to chase the pain. Toji doesn’t relent, he bites your thigh again, this time a little higher. “Toji.”

“Don’t say my name like that,” he growls, catches your skin between his teeth and moves upwards. “Like you’re still used to this. Like we’re fucking for the third time this week. That’s gone.”

You take a breath in and close your eyes. You can feel yourself deflate a little, his words are sharp and poking but his lips are gentle as they kiss over the indentations left by his teeth. Another kiss, even higher, and he’s soon pressing his lips to your clit in something you can only describe as reunion.

It can’t all be gone, because he darts his tongue out to circle around your clit in a way he’s done so much before it’s now muscle memory. As is the way your hips buck upwards just to be caught and pinned by his strong hands. You’re held down and ravaged by your Toji, who dips his tongue down through your folds before latching onto your clit like he’s trying to find comfort in your taste. Maybe he finds it, because he lets out a sigh and presses his forehead to your pelvis as he takes a breath.

“You taste the same,” he mumbles, dipping forward again to practically make out with your cunt. He’s always been messy—hungry. You can feel his scar against you, it’s new and not something you attach to him just yet, but maybe that's a good thing. Your fingers curl into the silk sheets you brought on sale two years ago. 

“Your tongues the same, always fucking teasing.”

“Deal with it.”

You try again to buck your hips up in protest, but his grip on your waist is too wrought. He’s mean, holding you down and denying you the chance to chase pleasure, but he’s always been this way—Toji will do anything to hold control. He returns his attention to your needy clit and eats you out at a pace you can only call familiar: too fucking slow. You want to protest, to whine and beg for more in the hopes his ego will take the buff and make you cum on his tongue, but before you can even part your lips to speak, he’s mumbling against your pussy.

“Just let me savour this.”

Oh and who are you to deny him after so long, after the withdrawals of losing his tongue you’re eager to end it so soon? No, you’re driven by lust and not giving your heart a moment to voice whims. You tighten your grip on the sheets, feel the slow coil in your stomach pull further, and let out a breath. You feel him wholly, each flick of his tongue over your sensitive achey clit, the dig of his thick fingers into your waist, his breath against your skin as he moans into his ministries. 

You’re close before you can start entirely savouring it. “Toji,” you try—but he knows you, he feels it already.

“I know, ma, you can take some more. Know you can, always been a fuckin’ slut for my mouth”

You can’t—you both know it. Toji wants to feel you unravel against his lips and give himself reason to punish you for it. He pushes two fingers into your fluttering cunt and curls them upwards just to torture you further. You’d chide him if you weren’t choking on your moans already, practically begging him with your sweet noises for that oh-so-wanted relief.

And he obliges, of course, because your orgasm is a rarity he used to taste daily. Something he missed, the taste of your relief, the way you’d shake under his touch and let him kiss you better afterwards. He doesn’t deserve you, but he’s been good enough of a man to deserve this, at least once more. 

Your orgasm wracks through you like a wave would a desolate beach in a storm. Emotional. Restorative in a way. Sobering. You half expect your eyes to open and find yourself back at home in the comforts of your new bed with your hand down your pants and your fingers soaked at the thought of your Toji, as so many nights go. But no: he’s here and lapping up your release like a starving man would. 

He stills by your pussy for a few moments, and you know he’s trying to will his erection down even just a little bit. His pants are strained and even friction against the mattress doesn’t do much for him—still, he doesn’t know if you want to take all of him again. He’d be okay with just your taste, but every second that passes without him being inside of you feels somewhat torturous–debilitating. You pick up on his struggles and tug at the strands of black hair you used to shampoo each evening.

“Toji,” you hum. “Want you inside of me. Need to feel it again.”

Your ex lover, though calling him such leaves a horrid taste in your mouth, climbs over you and takes both of your wrists to pin the above your head with one hand. He looks down at you with something in his gaze that you can’t quite pinpoint: anger? Hurt? Heat?

Regardless, he used his free hand to line up with your sopping entrance and push forward. Catching your lips between his in a kiss as he does so, Toji moans into the gasp you let out as he stretches you open. This is hauntingly familiar, the burn of his first thrust—so big that you can’t  completely get used to him no matter how often he’s working you open on his cock. You love it, you’d call yourself an addict if it were appropriate. 

He bottoms out, buries himself to the hilt inside of you and rests his forehead against yours. You half expect him to be mean. He used to fuck you rough when you were together and he was particularly stressed: he’s wrap a strong hand around your throat or push your face into the pillows and fuck you so hard he had to carry you to the shower to clean off. 

But Toji isn’t rough, even with his cock splitting you open and the anger of your leaving, he isn’t rough. He lets your wrists go and moves his hand to cup your face and just stare for a moment. You know the look in his eyes too well, something overwhelming washes over him, and you swear you can see a slight tremble to his lips. He’s beyond beautiful, eyes darting all over your face in hopes of memorising your every feature—as if you’re not already burnt into his mind. Like you’re not what he sees whenever he closes his eyes. 

“Too much?” you ask, feeling the tremor in his hands. 

Toji looks down at you and, with a dry mouth, manages a small “yeah.”

Your hand finds his face, thumb tracing over the scar on his lip in gentle strokes. Something soothing, you hope, for a man far from finding comfort. “You wanna stop?”

“God no,” Toji shakes his head. “Do you want to, uh—”

“Flip us over, Fushiguro.”

With his length still hidden inside of you, Toji swiftly flips the both of you over so that his back hits the mattress and you’re sat on his cock and staring down at him for once. His hands find your hips, still with a slight tremor to his grip but a little more comfort than before. Gravity helps you take Toji a little deeper than you had, so you lean forward a little and rest your hands on his chest. His heart thrums beneath your touch, not quite pounding but fast enough to make you smile.

“Let me take care of you,” you roll your hips a little. “It’s your birthday, after all.”

Toji looks almost like he’s going to protest, but ultimately takes his bottom lip between his teeth and nods; letting you slide up on his cock just to drop yourself back down. “Fuck, I–” 

He trails off, eyes screwed chut, and you lean forward to kiss the subtle curve of his nose. “You what?”

“I missed you,” his eyes are glossed when he opens them again to meet yours. You only get a glimpse of them before you’re pressing your lips to his in lieu of a million things you want to say to him. “Fucking missed you.”

Pulling away, you lift your hips up, feel the drag of his cock leaving you empty before you drop back down again and make the both of you moan in tandem with each other. Your eyes lock, his start to pool with tears. You can’t tell if he’s overwhelmed or upset or starting to be fucked so dumb he’s gone soft on you—but regardless, it’s a sight that tightens your beating heart.

You quicken your pace, revel in the way he fills you up: how he completes you. Your knees dig into the spring-loaded mattress as you ride his cock like you used to all that time ago. Every squeeze of your cunt around him makes the poor man choke a little on his breath, though you don’t slow down, not even when the tears start to fall. His cheekbones are painted glossy with his tears and, in favour of wiping them away, you dip down and lick a long strip up his cheek to taste the salt of his emotions on his tongue. It’s only fair, your taste still lingers on his. 

“I don’t like seeing you cry,” you whisper, kissing gently at his wet lashline. He grounds himself with his hands on your hips and takes a shaky breath in at the kisses you press across his tear-streaked face. He doesn’t try to hide his vulnerability—he knows there’s no point around you. Not when you’ve seen every broken part of him and still kissed him with a gentleness that stung more than any injury could.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs as you ride him. “You do this to me.”

You slow your movements just enough to offer a reprieve, the steady roll of your hips becoming languid, deliberate. “I don’t mean to,” you reply softly, your lips brushing against his as you speak. 

Toji huffs out something between a laugh and a sob. “Liar. You always know what you’re doing.”

You let out a small breathy laugh and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth. You start your pace up again, even faster than before: your thighs burn with the effort, but it’s worth it to see him unravel beneath you.

His head falls back against the pillow, exposing the column of his neck, and a low, desperate moan slips past his lips. He grips your thighs, but there’s no force behind his touch—only a trembling need as he lets you take control.

“You’re so good like this, letting me take care of you.”

His breath hitches, and his hands tighten on your thighs. “I—fuck, I can’t—” He’s rambling now, his words slurring as his breath becomes laboured and his hips start to thrust skywards into you. “Please—don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Shh,” you soothe, your hands sliding down to lace your fingers with his, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “I’ve got you. Just let go, Toji.”

Wholly at your mercy, Toji screws his beautiful eyes shut and nods. Each heave from his chest stokes the flames that coil in your stomach  in desperate hopes of a release. He’s first to teeter over the edge of pleasure, with a wild thrust up into you and a very raw moan, or sob, that rips straight from his throat, he cums. He fills you up and, for only a moment, you’re thrown back a year into the past and this is any other night spent together. The heat of him, the sheer force of his climax, pushes you to your own precipice.

You follow him into oblivion soon after, your back arching and your head falling back as your orgasm crashes through you. The muscles of your core tighten around him, drawing out his pleasure even as yours consumes you in wave after wave of white-hot ecstasy. You milk him for all he has, every last drop of release that you’re greedy enough to take within you.

When the storm passes, you collapse onto his chest. The both of you are sheened with sweat and the cum that leaks from your cunt around his cock and it’s messy and sticky and domestic in a way you can’t explain. The rain outside starts to taper off, but you’ll use the weather as an excuse to stay the night regardless. You doubt Toji would let you leave even if you tried. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“I love you.” you reply. 

You don’t know what will happen come morning. The two of you are from two very different worlds now, but Toji’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head. You can feel his heart beat, you can hear each intake of breath, you’re connected to him physically and, in a way, spiritually as well. 

You’re in his bed, the one that was once also yours. You’re safe, feeling nostalgic, and Toji Fushiguro is warm. Much warmer than any insulated townhouse.

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[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 054 - Lovesick! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Isekaing to the world of your favourite protagonist, but nothing is ever a coincidence. ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[tw: Manipulation, Murder, Death, Yandere depictions, Implied assault but not executed, a darker Jinwoo overall. Also Kyunnie lowkey rambling ....]‼️

╰┈➤ ❝ [ He Would Find You No Matter How Long It Takes, And Once He Has You In His Arms— You're Never Leaving] ¡! ❞

You died from an accident in the streets, well, not really an accident. Some drunk bastard was stumbling across the desolate street you normally take to go home— But poor you as that faithful meeting lead to your murder.

The paramedics tried everything they could to save you, but alas, you were dead on arrival.

That's what you suspect atleast. After losing so much blood from the multiple stab wounds of course that would be your death.

Dying was such a cold, cold feeling. It felt terrible. But what were your last thoughts?

You only thought of a single person only: Sung Jinwoo, the protagonist that you were madly in love with.

That man died three times or more if you count regression as a form of death. You thought of what he must have felt in his first death was similar to yours. How his feeble body sprawled on the altar with his leg cut off and his arm mostly torn off— It must have been terrible for Jinwoo.

Back then, you can only speculate. But now? Now you knew what he felt as he dies.

The only regret you have was not finishing the manhwa for the fifth time of the week.

But then you suddenly shot up, and when you did, you were met with a kind smile from a nurse, telling you that you passed out while doing a raid in an E-ranked gate from overexhaustion.

E-rank? Gate? What?

You were livid, feeling absolutely dizzy as you tried to ask the nurse. So you feigned temporary memory loss and asked the nurse what happened and why you're here.

As she had said, you passed out from raiding an E-ranked gate because of fatigue. You yourself, are a hunter, an E-ranked one.

The laughable rank your beloved once had.

You tried to wrap your head around it, tried to make sense of it all that you must be in purgatory, that this was all an illusion after death and the gods just had mercy on you and granted you your truest wish.

You tried to sleep it off, tried to bang your head to get you out of this illusion. But everything was real. You did normal human activities, and every pinch of a needle pricked onto your skin hurt like the way it did when you were alive.

You are alive

You didn't know whether to cry or laugh, you were in a world similar to Jinwoo's.

Jinwoo?

"Hello, are you alright?" A kind voice asks you out of nowhere, pulling you out of your daze. "Ah, I thought you passed out while awake!"

A boyish almost childlike face, pretty and cute with unkept fluffy hair that has grown too much and has a weird sort of mushroom-like appearance. Wide, innocent, puppy-like grey eyes full of wonder and life.

You knew that color of grey, that lovely shade that has placed you in a complete rampage of obsession and love.

"I'm Jinwoo, nice to meet you" He stretches his hand out to you, offering a friendly shake.

You accept his hand, trembling as you do so but he doesn't seem to notice as he shakes your hand so kindly while you shakily state your name to him.

Calloused, his hands were calloused.

He then sits down on the empty spot beside you, chatting you up.

Your heart was pounding like crazy as you two talked, you were for sure about to pass out anytime from the overflowing euphoria filling you up.

You don't know how you survived the conversation. But somehow you did.

And Jinwoo himself even offered that you two should team up as E-ranked hunters.

Ecstatic, of course you were, you were so joyous you jumped in bed and rolled around like a madman.

Jinwoo was here. Your Jinwoo.

Your Jinwoo before his ascension as a monarch, your Jinwoo that is still childish and soft.

You loved teaming up with him.

But something was weird.

Already, he had exceptional knife skills, his expertise with using a dagger was too good. Too uncharacteristic of the Jinwoo you know in his earliest days. Is his puberty coming a bit too early?...

That's just it,

,... Right?

Surely it is.

It's not weird that Jinwoo is extremely flexible and fast, that he is sharp and seemingly has such an advanced spatial awareness, that he easily cuts through the hard skins of various monsters.

...Really.

It's not weird at all.

꒰ .... ꒱

It's another hunting day where you accompany Jinwoo yet again in a raid. But this time he seemed a bit more guarded against the raid team you both had signed in for just to experience a higher ranked gate.

"Stay close to me, yeah?" Jinwoo leans down, smiling gently at you that made you forget the chilling expression he had just a second ago.

"S-sure?" You smile awkwardly, growing bashful at his distance.

Why is he a bit antsy anyway? The team you both signed up for isn't the Hwang.... Hwang dong.... Who?

The team of Hwang Dongsoo's brother? That bald headed bastard's family? Ah... You can't really recall his name.

Dead men don't matter anyway.

The only thing you really remember was how hot he was when he ultimately lost his mind momentarily and became absolutely ruthless.

To this you mourn the lack of psychotic Jinwoo in the manhwa.

Do they not see the potential?

This man has the temper and charisma to pull off a serial killer vibe.

So why not?

Why the hell not?!

"!!!"

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted when Jinwoo suddenly placed him in between you and the approaching hunter who had a displeased look on his face after what he did.

"I'm only trying to check on the little miss" The hunter smiles wryly, but Jinwoo was unmoving.

"Really now?" He remarks, his tone sneering even. "Does that involve you luring us into this isolated part of the dungeon with your team surrounding the exits? Sure."

"Ah you're no fun buddy!~" The hunter laughs, patting his shoulder to try and get Jinwoo to relax. "It's just us here, why not have a little fun? She's a pretty one."

Oh right.

Being a hunter is dangerous.

But what had always been dangerous in the first place?

Being a woman.

Ever since society recovered from the shock of the gates arriving— There is a significant uptake in death counts, crime rates, and missing people mia after entering a gate.

And what is the gender of 70% of those missing people?

Women.

If one wanted to do a crime, the best way to do it is in a gate. Rumours spread that disgusting fiends would lure women with a promise of a hefty sum by a small hunting group.

After that? All the women seemingly disappear.

And with the lack of a body and evidence to imply malpractice in the dungeons— What can the law do?

Nothing.

Dead corpses dont talk.

And as the hand reached out over Jinwoo's shoulder towards you—

It suddenly flew off with a swish

The severed limb took it's sweet time floating on the air before plopping on the floor with a wet splotch.

"...."

Everyones gazes were locked on the motionless hand on the floor before a bloody scream rang out from the C-ranked hunter.

"Y-you!" He sobs, gripping his empty wrist as it sheds a copious amount of blood. "I was nice to you by hiring you useless E-rankers and this is how you repay me?!"

He then turns to the rest of the members who were left frozen, "What the fuck are you bastards doing standing there? GET HIS FUCKING HEAD."

"It's always bastards like you who pull this kind of bullshit off" Jinwoo sighs, as if the whole situation right now is troublesome for him as a dagger materializes into his hand.

It was gleaming a mad crimson, as if the blade itself was made of a bloody moon's fragments.

Kamish's Wrath.

Daggers gifted to him by Thomas Andre as an apology for the trouble Hwang Dongsoo and the overall situation they were on. A symbol of peace between them and a sign of friendship between them.

He isn't supposed to be having those until later.

Unless The Jinwoo in front of you isn't the E-ranked Jinwoo who is slteadily climbing the levels at a rapid fast.

Jinwoo's blade seems like it's merely flying with how fast he is moving. Everytime he moves he just tilts his body a little for them to miss him narrowly.

And while everyone else is screaming in frustration, Jinwoo just throws them a sly smile, as if he is reveling in messing with them.

It was obvious he was teasing them, making them overly frustrated where they want to hit him but can't quite reach him at the way he expertly dodges them narrowly.

And when he's already bored of them?

He slices their limbs one by one and letting them bleed to death on the floor.

By the end of it Jinwoo is standing atop a pool of blood with crimson splatters sliding enticingly down his handsome features.

Whoever said Jinwoo isn't charming even in his baby-faced era must be blind.

Because even in the lack of his significant height, even when his cheeks are a bit chubbier, even if his eyes are a bit rounder and that his build is nothing more than bone and flesh— He has this haunting beauty to him that makes him look like a mischievous fae about to drag you into the abyss he calls his home.

"Do you understand now?" Jinwoo asks, his blank and empty grey eyes looking down on you as he lefts you cheek with his calloused hand. "Why I told you to quit being a hunter before?"

"I-I..." You sputter, unable to find the words from the shock of seeing your beloved murder people live in front of you.

"I'll get a rank evaluation after a month as soon as I fix this blasted body" He said, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're scared, aren't you? If I wasn't here, what could've happen to you?"

"....."

He's right.

What would've happen if Jinwoo isn't here? What would've happen if Jinwoo lets that man's hand go over to you?

The vision of it makes you falter, tears prickling your face as it slowly sunk in— That the only thing awaited you was unspeakable horrors had he not step in.

"Sssh..." He comforts you sweetly, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. "You must have been scared, hm? I know, I know. I took care of it, didn't I? Don't be scared anymore."

You don't have to know the fact that he orchestrated all of this.

That Jinwoo himself is the reason why you died and was brought to this cursed world.

That he was well aware of what the hunters have been pulling off whenever they sign contracts with women.

He just wanted to scare you a little, really.

What better method can he do to make you reliant on him?

To make you extremely dependent on him and paranoid of him not being there?

The world of hunters is a cruel and unforgiving world.

He knows that himself.

Jinwoo isn't blind to any of the darker side of this path you both choose to thread on.

Except that right now his intention is to make you too scared of ever stepping into a gate.

That the thought of ever stepping into one makes you shiver into cold sweats and becoming sick at the mere thought of it.

And if this plan doesn't shake you enough?

Then he'll just do it again.

Shake you to the core, make you have a glimpse of hell and then swoop in the second he sees you frightened enough.

You'll be in his arms, weeping and completely afraid.

And he would drill it himself in your head:

You only need Jinwoo.

Just like right now, where you're too shaken to even process the fact the timeline is all wrong. That somehow the Jinwoo in front of you right now already has two hearts with the beat of two organs in his chest. One heart belongs to him, the other belongs to the late Ashborn who chose him as his heir.

Nothing is making sense right now, but you're stuck sobbing in his arms and seeking for solace and safety.

"We'll have to pretend to be hurt when we go out, hm?" Jinwoo lifts your face up with the palms of his warm hands, his expression hauntingly saintly despite the muddled color of grey in his lovely eyes. "Can you do that for me?"

You nod, sniffling, earning yourself a kiss on the forehead as a reward for your obedience.

"Good girl."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: What better way to start off my 2025 with a Lovesick Sung Jinwoo fic? Hahah, my beloved<3. No matter who I put into my extensive list of sweethearts Jinwoo will always be on top of everybody else! I love him it's unhealthy. I might make a lads post after this or a wholesome sylus fic that has been brewing in my mind for a bit? I wanna branch out more when it comes to my fics wwww!!! So aside from Hsr there will be the lads boys. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[moody-alcoholic]

Break in

John Price x reader. WC: 1.9k. CW: break in, canon typical violence.

_____

You hate the winter, it gets dark too quickly. The temperature drops and you hate the cold. The worst thing about winter though is how much it makes you miss your husband. Everyone at work talks about getting ready to spend time with their families, or family and friends coming to visit them. You don’t even know if you’ll see John over the Christmas period. 

Last year he left on boxing day, the year before that he was gone for over a week until the 2nd of January. He missed Christmas and new years. You thought you would be used to it by now, him being away but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. At least this time he’s in London, he’s on a base most of the time. He keeps telling you if he’s lucky he’ll be there until way after the new year. 

That means he comes home at the end of each day, you get to spend time with him and do things you’ve not been able to do in previous years like go shopping for christmas gifts. It doesn’t matter though, it shouldn’t matter, it’s just one day of the year. You could just do a delayed christmas again, it never feels the same though. 

You hitch your bag over your shoulder as you walk through the gate to your townhouse. It’s way later than you would normally get home but the house is still dark so clearly John isn’t back yet either. You’re carrying shopping bags in each hand putting one down so you can fish in your pocket for the house key. You close the gate behind you and make it up to the front door. 

Your body freezes as you reach out for the lock. Your breathing stops, eyes going wide. Goosebumps rise over your skin. 

The door has been kicked in, you can see the damage on the wood where they’ve used a tool to pry it open. 

The shopping bag you’ve got round your wrist is pulling your hand down. You don’t know what to do, you should call the police. No, you should call John, maybe he broke in, forgot his keys? But then why didn’t he call you. There’s a pretty sophisticated security system John installed when you first bought the place. You would have got a security notification if it was activated. 

You drop the bags on the floor backing up down the steps and reaching into your pocket for your phone. Your hands shake as you walk back down the path until you hit the gate. It takes you two attempts to click John's name before you finally bring the phone up to your ear. He won’t pick up the first time, you let it ring out for a few seconds then call him right back. Then he’ll know it’s important. 

“Hey, love. Give me a second.” He says before there’s silence on the like, it feels like the silence is lasting minutes not seconds. You feel a lump rising in your throat, a breath hitches in your throat. You feel silent tears run down your face as you look into the house windows for movement.

“Sorry love. I know I’m late-”

“John, there's someone in the house.” You say before he can finish his sentence. You don’t have time, your heart picks up in your chest. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, the tone of his voice is darker.

“I came home and the door was kicked in.” This time your words come out with a sob. You feel sick.

“Okay, I'm on my way.” You hear shuffling, the sound of keys. You don’t know what to do, panic rises in you.

“Should I call the police?” You ask. 

“No. I’m coming okay, 10 minutes, I'll be there I promise.” You hear him snap his fingers. “Don’t go in the house okay. Stay outside.” You hear a car door close, then another.

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’ll be there soon.” He says then hangs up. You’re still looking in the house for movement, you don’t see anything, the rooms dark. You shiver as a cold breeze moves in, it could snow soon, you don’t want to be outside when it snows. 

…

John turns the normally 15 minute drive into less than ten, even down the congested London roads he breaks several traffic laws to get home. He’ll deal with the fines later, but the last thing he needs is to get pulled over now. 

“What if-” “Don’t even fucking say it.” He snaps at Ghost sitting next to him. His hands grip the steering wheel as he turns down the street towards his house. The place is quiet, it’s almost 9pm. He parks up pulling in so fast he almost hits another car. He can see you, stood on the pavement outside the house, your face red with tears, your arms wrapped around your chest.

They both Jump out of the car and John makes a bee line towards you. His hands come up to cup your face. 

“You’re okay, go wait in the car.” he says brushing your tears away with his thumbs. You nod letting out another sob, he watches as you head over to the car getting in the back.

“Take the top floor, I’ll sweep the ground.” He says to Ghost as he walks through the gate towards the house. John takes the lead removing the sidearm from its holster bringing it into his hands. He toes open the door, the house is dark, there’s no sound, they could be gone already. 

Ghost is silent on his feet moving up the stairs as John continues down the corridor to the kitchen. He brings the weapon up to his eyeline as he adjusts to the darkness. They have an advantage here, they know the layout of the house better than the intruders, hopefully.  

Ghost finds the first guy on the top floor. He’ll be working his way down now. As soon as John is done he will work his way up. The back door was still locked but it could have been locked from the inside without a key. There’s no mess, the place hasn’t been ransacked. They weren't looking for valuables.

The ground floor is clear as John works his way up to the first floor. He heads straight for his home office, maybe they were looking for a different type of valuable. 

John finds the second guy in the spare bedroom. Tying him up and throwing him in a closet with tape over his mouth. No need to shed blood in his home, besides gives him something to do tonight other than paperwork.

He meets up with Ghost outside his office pushing the door open together. The window is wide open with the whole place being ransacked. Ghost walks into the room, looking down out the window. John sighs, they’ve missed one and he has no idea what they could have been looking for. Ghost turns to look at him, putting his pistol away. John already knows what he wants to say.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He sighs putting his own pistol away

…

You’re sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in your hands. John said the place was clear that they didn’t find anyone. Maybe they got spooked when you came home, heard you and ran. That's what you tell yourself to calm your nerves. John walks into the room, he comes over to the sofa and sits down next to you. 

His arm goes round your back and you lean into him. 

“You did great.” He says rubbing your thigh with his other hand. You don’t know what to say. Someone broke into your house, even with all the security measures John put in place someone got past them and invaded your home. 

You’re not even thirsty but you bring the hot tea up to your lips anyway taking a sip letting it burn your throat. 

“What if you weren’t here?” You say, your voice is quiet, your head dipped down as more tears come. The panic and adrenaline gone your mind is filled with what ifs. 

“Don’t worry about that, I have things in place.” His hand comes up to your chin pulling your face up to look at him as you put the tea back in your lap. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

You don’t believe him, it’s going to be a while before you’re going to feel safe in your own home. Even though whoever was here was gone before John got home, they were still here. It could have been so much worse. 

You lean forward putting the cup of tea on the coffee table, it just tastes bitter anyway. His hand rubs your back almost like he’s trying to rub the tension out your muscles. You close your eyes his arms wrap around you as he leans back into the sofa. 

“You’re safe I promise. I would never ever let anything happen to you.” He kisses the top of your head. You let out a long breath, that you believe but it’s not always that simple.

“Will you stay? Please don’t leave, at least not for tonight.” 

“I will, I’m going to be here with you.”  You turn in his arms to look up at him, his deep blue eyes blinking down at you. He leans down pressing his lips to yours. You let yourself sink into the fermilia kiss, his tongue brushing yours as his hands run up and down your body. This is where you feel safe, in his arms, with his touch. 

The knock on the door pulls you out of the kiss, he turns to look. 

“Let me go chat with him then we’ll go to bed okay?” He says his thumb coming to brush the tears escaping your eyes. You nod sitting back up straight.

He’s not gone for long, coming back in and offering you his hand. You take it and he guides you up to bed, his hands don’t leave you, running up and down your body as you make it to the room. He helps you change, pressing kisses round your neck and shoulders, his fingers brushing hair out your eyes and tears when they fall. 

Eventually you crawl into bed together, he rolls over to turn his bedside light off, the only light left on in the room. 

“Leave it on.” You say, you’re not sure why, you just don’t want to be in the dark.

“Okay, whatever you need love.” He says pulling your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing in your ears.

“I will always be here. Even when it feels like I’m hundreds of miles away I will always be here for you.” He says as he kisses your cheek. You smile at his words, even if you’re doubtful, it’s what you need to hear. 

“I love you.” You say as he squeezes you tighter.

“I love you too. You’re safe, you always will be, I promise.” His hand moves down to your waist pulling you against him further. “Get some sleep, I'll be here with you. I’m not leaving your side.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise, I’ll protect you, forever. You’re safe, just get some rest.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. You try to stay awake, fighting the sleepiness that comes over you as he runs his hands over you. You can feel his heartbeat, his warm breath in your ear. 

At least you’re not outside in the cold, you’re warm and safe in his arms. Strangers broke into your home but you know it won’t happen again because John won’t let it happen again. 

____ It was supposed to be short but I don't know when to stop.

[wendichester]

could you pls write about reader attempting to bake a pie 🥧 but dean and sam already know it’s not going to be good because while reader is skilled in many things, cooking/baking isn’t one of them but they don’t have the heart to tell her no, that is until reader leaves the room and they spit it out cuz it’e awful 😂👩🏽‍🍳

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🥧༄⋆ baking time,

summary. who knew homemade pie could be so... tasty?

pairing. dean winchester x reader x sam winchester

wordcount. 641.

You’re in the kitchen, humming to yourself, as you carefully follow the recipe you found online. Sam and Dean are sitting at the table, watching with a mix of concern and confusion. They’ve been through this before—your attempts at cooking and baking are... let’s say, a little less than successful. But neither of them has the heart to tell you this probably isn’t going to end well.

Dean leans back in his chair, eyeing the pie crust you’ve just rolled out. “You sure you don’t want some help?” he asks, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“I’ve got it!” you say, flashing him a grin that could only be described as pure determination. “You two just relax. I’m going to bake the best pie you’ve ever tasted.”

Sam glances at Dean, but before either of them can get a word in, you’ve already started dumping ingredients into a bowl, mixing them with an intensity that has Sam’s eyebrows knitting together. “Uh, maybe you should double-check the recipe? You’re using... a whole stick of butter, right?”

You glance over your shoulder, laughing. “That’s what it says. I’m not skimping on the good stuff.”

Dean coughs, trying to hide his grin. “Sure, sure. More butter never hurt anyone.”

The smell of baking fruit and sugar fills the air as you continue your work, oblivious to the concerned looks Dean and Sam exchange. At one point, Sam swears he sees you accidentally spill an entire jar of cinnamon into the pie filling.

Dean shifts in his seat, his eyes darting between you and the pie. “You sure this is the best way to do it?” he asks, hoping you won’t catch on to his barely disguised panic.

You flash him another confident grin. “Relax, Dean. I know what I’m doing.”

When the pie finally goes into the oven, you stand back, hands on your hips. “There. Now we just wait.”

Dean and Sam look at each other, both clearly thinking the same thing: This is going to be a disaster.

A few minutes later, the timer goes off, and you skip over to the oven, pulling out the golden-brown pie that’s, well, kind of slanted on one side. But you’re beaming. “It’s perfect!”

Dean and Sam exchange a glance. “Looks... uh, great,” Sam says weakly, forcing a smile.

Dean clears his throat, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, if you like your pie with a little... character.”

You’re so excited, though, you don’t even notice. “Okay, I’m serving it up now.”

Dean looks at Sam with wide eyes as you put down the plates, one slice in each. He leans in as soon as you turn your back, going in for a third slice. “Uh... maybe we should... I dunno, have a little taste test first?” He grabs a fork before Sam can protest, and takes a cautious bite.

Sam watches him, a little horrified. Dean’s face scrunches up, his eyes watering. He chews a little longer than necessary before spitting it out dramatically into a napkin. “I—I don’t think this is supposed to taste like that.”

Sam hesitates, then gingerly picks up his own slice. He takes one bite and immediately follows Dean’s lead, spitting it out. “I think I’ve had better pie at the bottom of a dumpster.”

But neither of them has the heart to tell you how awful it really is. When you turn back around with a plate of pie, you see both of them smiling with strained expressions.

“Best pie ever,” Dean says, forcing a smile.

Sam quickly adds, “Amazing. Really, I’m impressed.”

You beam, obviously proud of your work. “I knew you’d love it. I’ll make it again next week!”

Dean and Sam exchange a glance, both of them silently agreeing they’ll never, ever let you bake again. Not unless they want to die from cinnamon overload.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles

[honeyedfate]

operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.

genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive

a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x

it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.

grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.

which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.

when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.

you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”

abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”

“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.

“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.

jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.

you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”

jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”

“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”

jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”

you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”

“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.

“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”

you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.

“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.

“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.

instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”

you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”

jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”

“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”

“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.

“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”

you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”

this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”

you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”

jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.

“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”

“correct.”

“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.

“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”

“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”

jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”

you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”

he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”

“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”

he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”

“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.

“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”

a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”

“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”

you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”

jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”

“i love you too. good night, baby.”

the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.

again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.

so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.

with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.

at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.

“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”

enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss

sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~

xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️

“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”

he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”

not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.

“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.

“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”

“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”

“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”

jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.

“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”

the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”

jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”

“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”

jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.

JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image

JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept

JAY: I wept.

JAY: Get your facts straight punk

“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”

“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”

jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”

JAY: Me neither

jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”

JAY: Wow

“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.

“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”

jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”

JAY: It’s because I’m here

JAY: I bring the smart ones

JAY: Also can you play chamber 5

“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”

that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.

“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.

“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”

JAY: Junghoon

JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki

JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida

jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”

“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.

“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”

JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j

jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”

JAY: yoar wonny

“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”

JAY: :(((

jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”

“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.

he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.

“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”

he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.

chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”

it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.

“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.

jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.

enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY

myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days

sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight

xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you

jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”

his door slams open.

not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.

“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”

jake blinks up at him. “what?”

another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”

wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.

sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.

your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’

and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.

some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.

an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn to their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.

“yuki is calling.”

jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.

a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”

“…yes?”

“there’s a change of plans.”

[svenzio]

cho hyunju as your girlfriend

« non-binary reader » « other acc: @antinitoniny »

« not proofread, lots of mistakes & errors »

prompts w imagines after the cut, lmk ur thoughts !

softspoken gf!hyunjuㅡ whether it's during a casual conversation or an argument, you always feel huge amounts of affection & warmth in hyunju's voice

ㅡ after an unspecified misunderstanding

"can we talk?" hyunju softly knocked on an opened door to get your attention, leaning on the doorframe.

"i'm sorry, i promise i didn't mean toㅡ" you were so close to crying while trying to explain til hyunju interrupts you

"i understand" hyunju smiled, sitting in front of you. she placed her hand on top of yours.

"i didn't mean to invalidate your emotions earlier, i was just confused. i'm sorry. i know that you just want the best for me" hyunju talked so softly that one would think that she's putting a baby to sleep.

"but stillㅡ" you attempted to not justify your actions

"it's okay, i promise" hyunju said, giving an assuring smile. she cups your cheek, placing a peck on it.

hyunju's crazy good with eye contact. she always manages to make you flustered even during casual conversations. she actually just makes sure to listen well

it's a normal saturday afternoon for you & your girlfriend. for this weekend, you're in charge of planning & your plan is to stay at home and do nothing. when hyunju heard about the plan, she can't stop laughing at it because her plans have always been outdoors & active.

now, you're sitting on the couch with hyunju, talking about your week. you guys made it a habit to catch up after a busy week.

"yeah then like cath yelled at him and i was likeㅡ DESERVE!! as she should" you said with all of your emotions, eyes focused on the television 'coz you're trying to find a show to watch later.

"HAHAHAHAHA then?" hyunju responded enthusiastically. it's always fun to tell stories when hyunju's present.

you reached out for the chips and sat back, planning to focus on telling your story as you look at hyunju.

"cath basically told him to fuck off and that g-guy ha-hasㅡ oh my god! stop staring at me" you panicked, unable to keep a smile in.

confused hyunju: "huh?"

"nevermind umㅡ yeah soㅡ" you looked back at hyunju only for her to look so focused on you. you had to internally meditate before continuing, meeting hyunju's eyes.

"um yea, the guy, his name's mick, he gaslighted cath right in front of oㅡ oh fuck i can't" at least you tried for five seconds.

it's not that you're weak with eye contact, hyunju's eyes just sparkle as if they're adoring you right in front of youㅡ you get it? yea. you can hear that tiktok sound "blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff"

"why?" hyunju laughs, knowing exactly what's happening but wanted to tease you about it anyway

"why are you staring at me like that?" you asked

"like what?" hyunju teases

"like you wanna shut me up with a damn kiss or something"

"i feel like that's what you want & it has nothing to do with my stare" hyunju laughs

"NUH UH UR EYES ARE PRACTICALLY STATING A 300-WORD POEM FOR ME"

hyunju LOVES forehead kisses. she doesn't know that but you've noticed that she kisses your forehead like five times in one hour

"good job, my love" hyunju kisses your forehead.

"am i gonna get a kiss whenever i do a good job?" you asked, smiling. hyunju smiled, patting your head.

"hmm... sure" hyunju said, hugging you from the back as you continue figuring out the manual instructions for the cabinet. you know damn well that hyunju can do that for you in 20mins but you wanted to try by yourself anyway.

"does this go here?" you asked yourself, placing a screw on a hole.

"no, baby. it's for the handles" hyunju softly corrected you, snuggling on the crook of your neck.

"so no kisses for me since i got it wrong?" you pouted

"a kiss for trying" hyunju smiles, kissing your forehead.

hyunju who never gets jealous but enjoys how you overexplain because you don't want to make her overthink unintentionally

on your way home, you & hyunju decided that it'll be nice to take a 30min walk at night since the weather's pretty nice. you talked about various of things, noticed different things, started a 10min worth of conversation from just a passerby's shoesㅡ it was a great evening for the both of you.

until, you passed by a club. unexpectedly, you saw your high school friends outside. you haven't seen them in years which is why you were so excited that you immediately ran and hugged them.

the conversation between you & your two friends went on for 10 minutes. of course, you also introduced hyunju to them & bragged about her.

during the next couple of minutes, the walk was filled with silence. it was the complete opposite of the energy that you guys had before meeting your friends.

a lot of things went inside your head. you can't read hyunju at all. is she tired? but she still initiates conversations even when she's tired. is she mad? she would've told you if she is. is she...

you stopped in your tracks which made hyunju stop as well. hyunju looked at you quietly, wondering why you suddenly stopped when you're four blocks away from home.

"are you jealous?" was the conclusion that you made.

hyunju managed to keep her smile inside because she's curious about how this situation will escalate.

"i'm not" hyunju said with a straight face

you were stressed, you didn't know what to do, you don't know what's running inside her mind so you're clueless abt how you're gonna assure her.

"those were just my classmates from high schoolㅡ we're not even following each other on social media iㅡ we'reㅡ i hated everyone during high school" you rapped, panicking.

you're afraid. you don't want to unintentionally hurt hyunju in any way.

hyunju smiles "you don't have to explain" she says

"huh? oh my god do you not trust me" you cried out dramatically which made hyunju chuckle

"i trust you. that's why you don't have to explain" hyunju said, holding your hand.

"i love you so much & i have the same amount of trust on you so you don't have to worry" she said

"then why are you so quiet?" you pouted, leaning your body on her as you guys walk.

"i thought you're tired & wanted to enjoy the scenery." oh right, you're the type to make your own little bubble whenever your social battery runs out.

"i thought you were mad" you said

"...me? when was i ever mad?"

"exactly. i thought tonight's the first time"

"you'd never see the first time" hyunju smiles.

hyunju hates it when other people touch her hair but she LOVES it when you experiment with different hairstyles w her hair

"baby, a package came for you" hyunju said, entering the room. you jumped out of the bed & immediately opened the package. hyunju stood behind you, resting her head on your shoulder as you open your package.

"TADAAA" you excitedly said, showing her the pastel clips & ties that you ordered.

"that'll look fantastic on you, love" hyunju genuinely said

"it'll look a lot more fantastic on you" you said with a wide smile, facing her.

hyunju's confused face slowly turned into a smile. at this point, it's a monthly activity for the both of you to style each other's hair (or usually just hyunju's)

"any requests?" you asked, brushing hyunju's hair.

now, you're sitting on the couch while hyunju's on the floor, holding the boxes of clips.

"you do you. i just want a mix of black and pink clips" hyunju said as if she's talking to a hairstylist (roleplaying is ur thing too)

"alright, pretty lady"

bonus: hyunju having a whole ig highlights of the hairstyles you gave her.

hyunju who has a habit of unconsciously giving you her first & last bite of food

you brought hyunju with you at your friend's night out. your friends are also her friends so it doesn't really matter.

during meal, you're a lot more focused on talking with your friends than eating. on the other hand, hyunju's starting with her meal already.

hyunju tapped your shoulder lightly & fed you a spoonful of her food. you ate it without looking at her nor batting an eye as if it's a normal thing between the both of you.

since you weren't eating much due to the intense topic that you're having, hyunju's basically feeding you spoonfuls from time to time.

"baby" hyunju said, trying to take your attention

"i'm full, sweetie. thank you" you told her

"last one." hyunju smiles, showing you her last spoonful of food.

"i feel like these two got an invisible private bubble with just the two of them" your friend told the other

"that bubble is probably heart-shaped" the other responded

"may this love find me" your friend says (basically begging the heavens)

hyunju's the BEST when it comes to comforting you. probably also bcs she read a lot of books to help you manage your emotions

you're curled up on the couch, staring at the wall. hyun-ju walks in, her steps were soft but deliberate, carrying a steaming mug of tea. she places it on the coffee table in front of u.

“hey..i made you chamomile. don’t argue, just drink it. i know you didn’t have lunch today.”

u didn't respond, but your eyes flicker briefly to the mug before dropping back to their lap. hyunju sits down beside u, keeping enough space to not feel imposing.

"you know, it’s okay to take time for yourself. but.." she pauses, her tone softening “locking yourself away like this isn’t helping. I can see it in your eyes—you’re not resting, you’re just… running.”

"i don’t know how to face anyone right now. It’s like… I’m not enough. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

hyunju leans forward, thinking.

"i read something a while ago. about how we talk to ourselves.” she said, glancing at you.

"if a friend came to you saying what you just said, would you tell them they’re not enough?” she asked

you shake your head, lips pressed together.

"exactly. so why is it okay to talk to yourself like that? why are you doing that to yourself? you don't deserve that" hyunju said, your tears threatening to fall but you didn't respond.

"you’re allowed to feel lost, but don’t let those thoughts win. they don’t know you like I do.” hyunju continued, smiling warmly at you.

"you make it sound so easy…” you said, tears pooling in your eyes.

hyunju smiles gently, reaching over to place a hand on yours.

"it's not. it'll be a rough path & it surely will be filled with tears and crazy evenings" hyunju said, sighing

"but you won't be facing them alone. i'm here, and I’m not going anywhere. so… drink your tea, and let me stay in your corner. Okay?” hyunju smiled, handing you the mug. as you take it, hyunju wraps her arms around you, making you feel protected and warm.

right there, you knew that you'll be just fine.

hyunju who's so good w words & have a very unique perspective about things which makes your late night conversations amazing

the two of you are sitting on a park bench, watching people who's doing their midnight workout at the park.

“you know what’s funny about people? we think we’re so smart, but we act on instinct most of the time. all gut reactions, fear, and hope.” hyunju suddenly speaks.

“hope is an instinct?” you raised an eyebrow

“of course. it’s survival. you think a soldier keeps moving forward because they’re brave? no. they hope the next step gets them out alive. you think someone falls in love because they’re logical? no. they hope it won’t destroy them.” hyunju nods

“so, we’re just… running on hope and instincts?” you asked, actually thinking about it.

hyunju chuckles & nods, turning to look at you.

“yeah. and you know what? that’s not a bad thing. makes us unpredictable. makes us dangerous. and…”

“it makes us human.” hyunju proudly smiles, looking at the nightsky

“sometimes you sound like a philosopher.” you said, resting your head on her shoulder.

“don’t get used to it. i’m only this deep after midnight.”

the two of you sit there a little longer, hyun-ju’s words hanging in the air like the stars above—simple but impossibly vast.

active dates. hyunju's physically active (and in this case, you're not) but you always do your best to do her favorite activities w her.

you’re both halfway up a hiking trail, and you’re already out of breath. hyun-ju stops ahead, turning to look at you with a smirk.

“you good back there? or do i need to carry you?” hyun-ju asked, her grin teasing.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you said, panting as you tried to keep up.

“maybe,” she said, grinning wider. “but you’re doing fine. come on, just a little further. the view’s worth it.”

“the things i do for you,” you muttered, trudging up the trail.

hyun-ju was waiting for you at the top, holding out her hand. “and that’s why you’re my favorite. now, let me show you why this is mine.”

she pulled you up, and as you caught your breath, the view of the valley below left you speechless.

lazy dates, ofc. hyunju considers every moment w u a date. even staying on the bed for the whole day is a date for her

the two of you are tangled in a mess of blankets, the sunlight peeking through the curtains. hyun-ju is lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching you scroll through your phone.

“you know this counts as a date, right?” hyun-ju said, her voice soft but playful.

“lying here doing nothing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“yep,” she said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “as long as i’m with you, it’s a date. simple as that.”

you rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “you’re too easy to please, you know that?”

“maybe,” she said with a smirk, leaning in to rest her forehead against yours. “or maybe i just know how to enjoy the good stuff.”

you laughed, setting your phone aside and curling closer to her. lazy days had never felt this perfect.

protective hyunjuㅡ lowkey on army mode whenever the both of you are in a dark street. makes sure to remind you that she's capable of protecting you even if you don't expect her to.

the two of you are walking home late at night, the streetlights casting long shadows. hyun-ju is walking slightly ahead, her posture sharp and alert.

“you don’t have to keep looking over your shoulder,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

“and you don’t have to worry, because i’m looking for both of us,” hyun-ju said, her eyes scanning the dimly lit street.

you sighed. “it’s not like anything’s going to happen.”

she glanced back at you, her expression steady but confident. “you don’t expect anything to happen. that’s why you have me.”

“you’re really pulling the ‘special forces’ card right now?” you teased.

“damn right i am,” she said, smirking but still alert. “i’ve got instincts, training, and enough muscle to make anyone regret trying something stupid. you’re safe with me. always.”

you smiled, slipping your hand into hers. “i know. thanks, captain.”

“don’t mention it,” she said, squeezing your hand gently. “but if anyone even looks at you wrong, they’re getting a lesson they won’t forget.”

doing hyunju's makeup! you love helping her w her makeup. whether yk a lot of things abt makeup or not, u just love seeing hyunju's happy smile whenever she finishes her look

hyun-ju sits cross-legged on the floor in front of you, a mirror propped up on the table and her makeup bag between you. you’re carefully applying a touch of eyeliner, your tongue sticking out in concentration.

“you’re taking this way too seriously,” hyun-ju said, her lips twitching into a smile.

“and you’re moving too much,” you said, gently tilting her chin back. “i’m trying to make you look flawless.”

“i already look flawless,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly.

“yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling. “let me finish, miss ‘flawless.’”

when you finally pulled back to admire your work, hyun-ju turned to the mirror, her face lighting up.

“not bad,” she said, grinning as she checked her reflection. “you might actually put me out of a job.”

“i don’t know what i’m doing half the time,” you admitted, laughing. “but seeing you smile like that? worth it.”

hyun-ju looked at you, her grin softening into something warmer. “you’re the best, you know that?”

“obviously,” you said, smirking. “now, where’s my tip?”

she leaned in, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “how’s that for a tip?”

“good enough,” you said, laughing as she grabbed her lipstick to finish the look.

hyunju who dries your hair after your late night shower. you can barely keep your eyes open so she asks little questions about your day to stop u from dozing off

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel wrapped around your shoulders. hyun-ju stands behind you, gently running a soft towel through your damp hair. your head keeps drooping forward, but she nudges you awake each time.

“don’t fall asleep on me,” hyun-ju said, her voice light but teasing. “you’ll wake up with a wet pillow, and then I’ll have to deal with your complaints.”

“m’not complaining,” you mumbled, eyes half-closed.

“uh-huh,” she said, smirking. “so, what did you eat today? anything that wasn’t instant noodles?”

“had a sandwich,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

“a sandwich? impressive,” she said, ruffling your hair gently with the towel. “what kind of sandwich?”

“...the kind with bread,” you mumbled sleepily, earning a soft laugh from her.

“genius answer,” she said, shaking her head as she grabbed the hairdryer, switching it to a low setting. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

the warmth from the dryer and her steady hands lulled you further, but she kept asking small questions—about your favorite part of the day, whether you saw anything interesting—until she finally shut the dryer off and kissed the top of your head.

“all done,” she said softly, her voice almost lulling you to sleep completely. “go on, lie down. i’ll be right here.”

of course, drying hyunju's hair too every morning is part of your routine.

hyun-ju sits on the edge of a chair, her hair still damp from her morning shower. you stand behind her with a towel, carefully running it through her dark strands. she leans back slightly, her eyes half-closed as she enjoys the moment.

“you don’t have to do this every day, you know,” hyun-ju said, her voice soft but amused.

“and yet, here i am,” you replied, gently squeezing water out of her hair. “besides, you’d just leave it wet and call it ‘air-drying.’”

“it’s efficient,” she said with a smirk, cracking one eye open to look at you.

“it’s lazy,” you corrected, grabbing the hairdryer. “sit still, or i’ll make it worse on purpose.”

she laughed quietly but stayed put, closing her eyes again as the warm air from the dryer brushed against her skin.

“you’re good at this,” she murmured. “if you ever get tired of your day job, you could make a killing as a hairstylist.”

“i’ll stick to this one client, thanks,” you said, smiling as you gently smoothed her hair down. “she’s picky but worth it.”

hyun-ju tilted her head back to look up at you, her grin soft. “you’re lucky i like you.”

“and you’re lucky i’m patient,” you teased, finishing with one last stroke of your fingers through her now-dry hair.

“perfect as always,” she said, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before heading off. mornings didn’t start right without moments like this.

you love every morning with hyunju.

"you look amazing" you told hyunju, both of you are barely awake. waking up w hyunju every morning is what you consider a blessing. it's such a great way to start your day & you believe that a sight of her in the morning would make it impossible to ruin your day at work.

"but i just woke up?" hyunju laughed, hugging you.

"ethereal" you said, admiring her face.

hyunju got shy almost immediately, kissing your forehead. "i'll go make us some coffee" she said, sitting up.

"sounds good" you responded, drifting off to sleep once again. hyunju chuckled as she stepped out of the room.

you were sleeping soundly when you felt light taps on your shoulder & soft pats on your head.

"baby, i made breakfast" hyunju said, almost a whisper to not startle you.

"i love you" you responded, half-awake.

"i love you too so please get up, you're gonna be late" hyunju laughed at your state, kissing your shoulder.

you pulled her to the bed, unintentionally tickling each other. the room's soon filled w laughs for a solid five minutes.

"i love mornings with you" you said, caressing hyunju's cheeks

"i love my life with you" hyunju said, kissing the tip of your nose.

hyunju who was once afraid of public display of affection because of the weird stares from other ppl so you were always the one to initiate.

the two of you are walking through a crowded park, the early evening breeze carrying the hum of chatter and laughter. hyun-ju’s hands are stuffed into her jacket pockets, her shoulders slightly tense as she glances around.

you reached out, slipping your hand into hers without hesitation. “relax,” you said softly, giving her fingers a light squeeze.

hyun-ju hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to a nearby couple, then back to you. “people are staring,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“let them,” you said, smiling up at her. “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

she looked at you, her expression caught somewhere between apprehension and awe. “you make it look so easy.”

“that’s because it is,” you said, swinging your joined hands slightly. “besides, if they have time to stare, maybe they’re just jealous.”

hyun-ju’s lips quirked into a small smile, her shoulders relaxing as she laced her fingers more tightly with yours. “you really don’t care, do you?”

“not even a little,” you replied, leaning closer to bump her shoulder with yours. “and one day, you won’t either.”

she chuckled softly, her grip on your hand firm now. “with you around, maybe.”

the rest of the walk felt lighter, the world fading into the background as you led the way, her hand warm and steady in yours.

bonus, same prompt:

the two of you are sitting on a bench at a quiet bus stop late in the evening. hyun-ju keeps glancing at the couple across the street, who are laughing and holding hands, before quickly looking away. she fidgets with the hem of her jacket, avoiding your eyes.

you reached over and placed your hand over hers, stilling her nervous movements. “hey,” you said softly. “you’re thinking too much again.”

she let out a small sigh, her gaze still fixed on the pavement. “it’s just… people look at us differently. like we’re doing something strange.”

“who cares?” you said, giving her hand a squeeze. “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

hyun-ju hesitated, then finally looked at you. “but doesn’t it bother you? being seen as… not normal?”

you smiled, leaning closer until your shoulder brushed against hers. “we are normal. the world’s just slow at catching up.”

she blinked at you, her lips parting slightly, before a quiet laugh escaped her. “you really believe that?”

“absolutely,” you said, lacing your fingers through hers. “we’re normal, hyun-ju. and anyone who thinks otherwise? that’s their problem, not ours.”

hyun-ju’s smile grew wider, and this time, when a passerby glanced your way, she didn’t flinch. instead, she leaned closer to you, her hand firmly holding yours. “we’re normal,” she repeated, almost like a promise.

[crimsonmochi]

Prompt. Full-heartedly believe Choso is the goodest most pathetic boy for his partner ever. And not just when it comes to sex, just everything. He just loves you so much :( I can't prove it, but I can write about it. Smut included.

Choso, who just doesn't know what he would do if you weren't there. I mean, this boy gets lost so easily because of how much he wanders, he has to call you because he gets upset and has zero sense of direction.

"I don't know how to get home."

"Why did you leave?"

"I saw a kitty and I wanted to pet it."

Choso, who pouts, and he pouts a lot. He pouts when he doesn't understand something you're explaining, he pouts when he wants something, and he pouts when he doesn't get what he wants. Will act like you killed his whole family if you don't give him kisses right now.

Choso, who needs to be touching you at all times in some way, or he panics and thinks you don't love him anymore. The first time you gently push his hand away from your waist in public due to being overstimulated at the mall, he nearly has a breakdown going over every single thing he's said and done in the past week.

He told Yuji about it the next day, explaining that he will literally end his life if you leave him and telling him he had to help.

"Just make some sort of big gesture. You should be fine."

Choso decorated your bed with some flower petals the next day, found out he was allergic to pollen, and was sneezing throughout his apology. Apology you didn't know was for, but you forgave him regardless, nursing him back to health in your arms until he didn't have the sniffles from the pollen anymore.

Choso who was a virgin when you met him and remained one for a good part of your relationship, entirely confused when his dick would get hard when you held his hand? Love, why does it do that? It hurts. He couldn't look you in the eye for a bit after you had explained it, embarrassed and flustered.

Choso had to be shown everything bit by bit. He complained when you showed him porn because it's not you, so why would I watch it. Makes no sense.

Choso who, after that session, tried to masturbate, but it wasn't working. He was clumsy with his movements, too needy and eager, and didn't even know what he was supposed to be chasing. Until he thought about you smiling at a joke he made earlier, and before he knew it, he came all over your bedsheets.

Choso tried to hide what happened from you but couldn't lie when you asked why he was hauling your bedsheets into the washing machine on a weekday, meekly trying to put together the situation with words. After explaining, he asked if he needed to go see a doctor.

"That's normal, babe."

"Are you sure? Felt like I got possessed for a moment, maybe we have a ghost."

He couldn't understand why you laughed at that but was thankful for the reassurance that he wasn't dying.

Choso, who begged you to take his virginity a month later, whining about the wet dreams he had been having about you, confused about what it meant, but it had to mean something.

Choso spent an hour just feeling and looking at your body, unsure where to place his hands, where you liked being touched, where you didn't. He spent so much time asking questions, wanting to please and be good for you, that he only remembered how desperate he was when you finally took control, something blooming in his stomach as you gave him orders.

Choso, who discovered he cums fast and from almost nothing. He shuddered when you took his length in your hand, his back arching off the mattress as a soft whimper escaped his lips, shooting ropes of cum onto his stomach.

Choso, who discovered that going down on you was his favourite thing to do of all time. For a week straight, that's all he wanted to do; he wouldn't understand why you couldn't just stay under him all the time as he feasted. Has orgasms from it, too, completely untouched, just whining and moaning between your legs like a kicked puppy.

Choso, who pouts at you when you don't let him give you head.

Choso, who loves to be called a good boy, lives for it. In and out of the bedroom, it's like you saying "I love you" to him. Honestly has a bad day if you don't say it.

He is your good boy, and you will call him that.

Choso, who refuses to brat out because how can he be your good boy if he acts up. Days are filled with "yes ma'am," "no ma'am," and "right away." If anyone were to witness, they'd think you're running a tight ship military, but it's just your handsome man on his best behaviour as always.

Choso, who never argues. Not because of anything in particular; he's just not wired that way. He listens too well, is in tune with your emotions and his, and adapts fast. He just wants to make your life easier, and if you want the trash taken out at 8:31 instead of 8:30, then he'll be damned if he doesn't make that happen.

Choso, whose personal therapy is laying his head in your lap while you braid a strand or two. He loves the gentle tug on his scalp, loves your fingers in his hair, and loves to look up at you and see how focused you are.

Choso, who needs to feel helpful and wants you to depend on him the same way he depends on you, sometimes goes out of his way to make himself feel indispensable because he likes how it makes him feel. Once stole your schedule only to memorize it and recite it by heart when you mysteriously couldn't find it, the biggest smile on his face when you thanked him.

Choso, who could make out with you for hours on end just to feel your fingers playing with his baby hairs once. Nearly gets off on it.

Choso, who likes to shower with you only for the soap and shampoo part. He likes to be taken care of, your hands on his body as you lather him up properly, his eyes closed and his mind sleepy. Double points if you're taking a bath instead.

Choso, who lays in bed every night with you and tells you he loves you, why, for what traits, for what you give him and what you make of him.

Choso, who could write a whole essay about you, would never be done, could never run out of things to say.

Choso, who just loves you so much, needs you forever, no matter what.

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Starscream is given a bath, Part 5:

1083 words on this one. Had it done for a few weeks, only now posting it. Sorry for that delay, folks! The last part is MOSTLY done too, I just need to read it again one last time. Then I’ll have a vote on what Starscream thing to write next.

Part 4: here

——————————————————————————

The…

wings?

“If you’re alright with that?” She added, and Starscream flinched, those very wings pricking up as he returned to reality.

“You’re- you’re really dedicated, aren’t you?” He smirked, slowly but gradually shedding the panic from the vent cleaning and returning to his usual self.

“Hmm, yes. I think I will allow you to.”

Starscream, seemingly fully embracing the fact that he was being given a spa day and that he totally deserved it for some reason, sunk back into the water lying on his cockpit. His arms were crossed under his helm, knees bent back so that his lower legs sticking out of the water.

The human about to climb over the tub suddenly stopped, contemplated logistics, and decided she was too tired to care if this was weird before promptly climbing onto Starscream’s back. The seeker’s wings fluttered and he made a sound of surprise when she settled between them, but he did not protest. Lifting his head he tried to look over his large shoulders, quickly giving up and returning to his previous position with a sigh.

“There ya go, stretch them out.” The human instructed as she gently brushed her hand over the length of one wing to guide him, having to lean over to actually reach all the way to the tips.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Starscream muttered back, although there was no real bite to his voice. He seemed almost sleepy again.

They felt very solid, smooth as they glided under her fingers. Barely any seams or imperfections sticking out. Not even the fastest human-made aircraft had wings this smooth. Weighted and rigid in her hold, yet with an elegance about them at the same time. She moved her fingers all over the surface, being firm but not rough while trying to spread soap all over the jet’s wings, coating them in white and bubbles. As for Starscream, the worst of his tension seemed to have melted away. It had been a long time, and he was annoyed to admit that this touch made him feel almost nostalgic. It was difficult to give his wings a through clean, without a trine to help him tend to them. As proud of his frame as he was, this was something he would not entrust to, or ask of, just anyone.

“Why don’t you extend your flaps too?”

“Excuse me?” He replied, lifting his head out of the water, brows furrowed.

“Want me to get everything, don’t you? Come on, quit holding out on me.” She grinned, patting him on the back. He could tell there was a personal fascination mixed in with her desire to clean him up. This human was a flyer, after all.

“Hmph.” His wings flared back in exaggerated offense, sending bubbles flying around.

“Hey!“

“Who do you think I am? One of your common ‘training aircraft’? Asking for my wing surfaces so casually.” He questioned, head propped up on one arm and tapping a talon on his cheek. “A word of advice: You really should stop taking this view for granted, pilot. Don’t think your choice of seating has escaped my notice.”

That made her chuckle, and he chuckled too. Starscream shrugged and quickly admitted mock defeat, keeping up his smug tone.

“But, I suppose since you’re so desperate and eager, I will take mercy on you.” His words were emphasized with the fluttering of his wings, and he gave a pause for dramatic effect.

Finally, with a sly grin and a satisfied expression, the seeker relented and held his wings up high. His high-lift devices extended swiftly. It didn’t feel mechanical at all, the way he moved them. There was no delay, no struggle, only a slight click when they locked into position. They moved just like any other part of his body, and that reminded her just how alive Starscream was. Flaps trailing from the back, and slats from the front. Except since the wings sat inverted on his back it was actually the other way around. They looked bigger now, the new pieces fitting seamlessly with the rest of the surface.

“Thank you, my Lord.” She replied without taking her eyes off him, and it made the seeker feel proud despite knowing she was only joking. The human resumed her work now that she had access to the entirety of his wings, scrubbing, every now and then moving her hand lower to scratch at the base where they would connect with his back. She took notice of how the jet shivered when she did that. Ailerons twitching in a way that she likened to feeling tickled. Wings tensing, shaking ever so slightly.

“You really do have some beautiful wings, Starscream.”

If Starscream himself was aware of it, he was too relaxed at this point to care. His frame was vibrating so faintly she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been sitting on his back, and the soft purr of his idling engine was nearly drowned out by the rush of the water she was rinsing him with. But it was there, unmistakably so.

“Of course I do.”

The seeker allowed her fingers to stick into the joint where his wings met his back without much more than a startled hum, burying his face into his arms as he felt her rooting around in search of debris.

“You’re not completely terrible at this, you know. You’re obviously unfamiliar, but considering you’re a human… you’re not bad at all.” His voice was soft. Unguarded.

“You think so?”

“Hmmm, yes. I do.”

The seeker stood up, albeit slowly, allowing her to safely slide off his back.

“In fact, I think I’ll return for another wash sometime.” He added with a cheeky grin.

“Hang on, I’m not done rinsing the soap.”

“That’s alright, I will manage.”

He shook his wings gently, the movement brushing off most of the remaining bubbles and water- part of it raining onto her- before he leaned down to awkwardly give her a pat on the head. This was definitely the calmest she’d ever seen Starscream.

“You’re leaving?”

Starscream hesitated, wings twitching as his expression turned to one of contemplation. He’d intended to do so on autopilot, but hadn’t given it enough thought whether that was the best course of action.

“It is best if I do, yes.” he finally replied, stopping as if he wanted to say more.

“Thank you.” He looked down at her and forced the words out. They felt awkward out of his voicebox. Unfamiliar.

[ssweeterthanfiction]

waiiiiit need a fic where reader finds out finnick told snow he’d take on more clients to ensure she’s safe

YOU ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE!!

Innocent

HEAVY content warnings: trafficking of victors, panic attack, self hatred, suidcidal thoughts.

It was late. Finnick had just gotten home from a long trip. He was gone for nearly a month. A month away from you felt like years. A month away from your smile, a month away from your laughter, a month away from your warm touch.

Tiredly, he walks into the living room of your shared home, flicking on a lamp so he could see better.

He was exhausted.

For the past few weeks it had been nonstop. A new person every single night. At times he would think, if he should even keep up with all of it. But then he remembered why he was doing this, to keep you shielded from the truth, to keep you protected.

"If you want her to remain untouched, you take on the responsibility of the people that would've wanted her."

He passes by a mirror and sees his reflection. He sees the scratches and bruises left by his 'lovers'. He stares at them for a moment, wanting to just rip the skin off of his body instead of just covering them up and playing it off as injuries that he would get from fishing and swimming, maybe then he won't feel dirty and used.

He plops onto the couch, his entire body aching. He puts his head in his hands, thinking that he should end his misery already.

He scolds himself for this.

Finnick hated that he had such thoughts of quiting everything, he hates himself for wanting to give up, he hates feeling dirty, he hates feeling used, he hates himself for allowing Snow to make him bend at his will.

He couldn't handle it anymore. He couldn't handle being treated like a toy. He just wanted it all to end.

But if he truly ended it all, he would be leaving you. He would be leaving you to the hands of the Capitol.

And how they wanted to get their hands on you.

He felt tears well up in his eyes, he felt his hands begin to shake, he felt his heart race.

Then he heard quiet footsteps.

"Finn? Is that you?"

He turns his head and sees you in one of his shirts and your pajama bottoms.

"Yea it's me angel"

You rub your eyes and slowly walk toward the couch. "What time is it?"

"Late." Finnick says, trying to hold back his tears.

You sit down next to him, even though you're half asleep you notice that he's trembling. You move close to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Finnick?...Are you alright?" you say in a gentle tone.

Feeling your warm touch, Finnick breaks down.

You wrap your arms around him, "Finn? Finn what's wrong?" you say as you stroke his hair, trying your best to comfort him.

"I-I'm so sorry angel. I'm so sorry" he says through tears.

You look at him with confusion, "You're sorry for what Finn?"

"For everything. I'm so sorry, I can't do it anymore angel...I can't. I'm so tired." he says as he begins to hyperventilate.

You feel alarms going off inside your head. "Finn. Finnick please talk to me. Please." you say in a soothing tone as you cup his face in your hands.

"I can't keep doing this...I can’t keep pretending, keep smiling for them, keep letting them—" his voice breaks, his breath becomes more uneven.

"Finnick who are you talking about?"

"S-Snow- the entire Capitol-" he says, trembling as he practically sobs in your hands, shaking his head.

You press your lips to his forehead, resting yours against his when you pull away, "Finny...please talk to me,

He sniffles, "They own me. Snow… he owns me."

"Own you? What are you talking about Finny?"

He bites his lip, is he really about to tell you the whole truth?

"He… he sells me. To his friends. To anyone with enough money or influence. And if I say no, if I fight back, he threatens… everyone I care about."

You can feel a pit form in your stomach, you pull him into a tight hug, letting him cry in your arms. "Finny..." you whisper, stroking his hair, "How long has this been going on?"

"S-Since I was sixteen, and they parade me around like I was some prize, some… toy. That's why I take so many trips to the Capitol. That's why I act the way I act. I play the role because- because I thought it meant keeping everyone I cared about safe. But I can’t stop it. I can’t stop him."

"And the worst part? They love it. The Capitol loves it. They think I’m... happy. That I want this." he says, his tears wetting the fabric of your shirt. "But it’s never enough. Snow always wants more."

You tighten your embrace, letting him cry it all out.

"He threatened you, angel. He wanted to do this same thing to you. I couldn’t let that happen. He would’ve taken you, used you, broken you. And I couldn’t live with that. I couldn’t let him touch you. So I made a deal. I told him I’d take on more, do whatever he wanted, as long as he left you alone. That's why my trips have been so much longer."

Your heart shatters. You can feel tears begin to well in your eyes, you don't even know what to say. He's been dealing with so much. Alone. Just to keep you protected. "Oh..Finny" you say shakily, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead.

"I hate him. I hate myself for letting him control me. But I couldn’t stand the thought of you s-suffering . I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe."

You pull away from him slightly, making just enough space so you can press your lips against his.

"I did it to protect you angel. I lovd you too much to- to let you go through that. I couldn't let you go through any of that, you don't deserve to."

You kiss him again, "I know Finny. I know." you say in a gentle tone, kissing his forehead. "And I love you for that. I love you so much Finny."

You pull him into a tight embrace again, letting his get all his bottled up emotions out.

"I'm sorry for keeping this from you angel."

"It's not your fault Finny.." you whisper. "None of it is. It's Snow. Not you."

For the next few hours, you cuddle with Finnick on the couch. Running your fingers through his hair til you both fall asleep in eachother's embrace.

A/N: MY SHAYLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAA☹️💔

[boybandbaby]

I Wish Part 2 (Evan Buckley x 118!Reader)

warnings: fire, injuries, angst (aftermath of a breakup) then fluff (getting back together), idk reader gives in kinda easy but I would too for Evan Buckley

Part 1

Buck doesn’t know what happened. One minute you’re his girlfriend and the next you’re both just coworkers. One second you’re working side by side with him venting the roof and the next you’re both falling through several floors until you hit a hard surface with a thud.

You roll onto your right side and groan loudly. Theres an ache in your left side where your hands fly to assess the damage. Buck is out cold, body sprawled amongst some debris. There isn’t much fire around you as the fire originated several floors up. There’s some smoke and it’s dark but you figure if you can get Buck to wake up and move, you have a chance at getting out.

You can hear Cap’s voice on your radio asking for a status on you and Buck. You press the button and call out what happened and where you believe you are. While you’re informing the team of Buck’s condition, you feel yourself choke on your words. You’re not sure if it’s the smoke invading your throat or the thought that Buck is seriously injured but a lump forms in your throat and tears well up in your eyes. He’s not moving, it’s hard to see his chest rising and falling through the darkness and helmet, and he’s not waking with your harsh shakes to his chest.

You’re honestly not even sure if the message got sent out as you don’t get a response. You slump next to him and rest there for a few seconds trying to gather your thoughts and create a plan. You’re trying to focus on slowing your breathing otherwise you’re going to start a full on panic attack. You shut your eyes and attempt to ground yourself.

-

“You broke up with her? I thought things were going really well.” Maddie sighs, sipping on her glass of wine.

“They were but the last couple of weeks, we were just fighting a lot. It was getting overwhelming.” Buck has both hands on the counter, his head hung between his arms.

“Aren’t these the same things we’ve all been saying to you for the past couple of years? That you need to think about your actions. Slow down a bit.” She finishes her glass and pushes the cup towards Buck.

“I guess I just didn’t want her to think the same things. I wanted her to see me as this great guy both at work and in our relationship but she sees me as someone who always makes mistakes. I just fuck everything up.” Buck pours some wine into the glass before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Did she say that?” Maddie takes her glass back.

“Not exactly but it was close enough.” Buck shrugs. “I have to bake something.” He turns to start looking through the cabinets.

“I think you should really try talking to her.” Maddie rounds the counter and places a hand on her brother’s arm. “She’s the first person you’ve dated that reciprocates and matches your energy. She’s eager to be in your life and meet your friends and family. I think that’s says a lot about how much she cares for you.”

“I mean it doesn’t matter now. I was a jerk and she’ll never forgive me.” Buck closes his eyes. He doesn’t want Maddie to see him cry.

“Do you think maybe you broke things off with her because you’re scared of being broken up with first?”

-

“Hey, how are you doing?” Hen closes the last button on her shirt and makes her way up the stairs. You’re sitting on the couch, staring at the tv. Nothing is playing.

“I’m fine. How are you?” You ask, not meeting her eyes.

“How are you holding up?” She sits beside you, patting your knee. It’s been a few days since Buck broke up with you. Your anniversary or what would have been has since passed. Reservations canceled, outfits stuffed in the back of the closest, and gifts hidden in the back in sock drawers.

“Who told you?” You inquire with an edge to your voice.

“Buck told Maddie. Maddie told Chim and Chim told me.”

“So everyone knows?”

“I’m sure Buck told Eddie. I don’t think Bobby knows yet.”

“I know.” Cap walks up the steps, pulling you in for a side hug. “Let’s make breakfast.” He nudges your side. You follow him to the kitchen and began to work in tandem. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“So he really meant it then? If he told everyone we’re broken up, he’s cementing it.” Your lips quiver.

“Smells good. What’s for breakfast?” Chim interjects. “Bad time?”

“No, no. It’s okay. Keep the drama at home right?” You look to Bobby. You excuse yourself and head down to the lockers. The three all watch your figure descend down the steps. In your hurry to stop the tears, your shoulder bumps into Eddie’s as he’s exiting the locker room.

“Hey,” he calls out your name. “Do you want me to stay? Buck’s in the locker room too. I could be a buffer for the tension.”

“Thanks Eddie. It’s okay. Really.” You wipe your eyes and give him a small smile. “I’ll see you later.”

As you’re heading into the locker room, you can hear Buck sighing and running water over his face. You can picture it without even seeing it. He’s probably hunched over the too short sink, back beginning to ache as he refuses to bend with his knees. He’s throwing cold water on his face to subside the tears and redness but of course it doesn’t work when tears are constantly flowing down his cheeks.

Despite your mind’s protests, your body moves to check on him. You round the corner and catch him wiping his face with a few paper towels. You see his shoulders tense before he even turns to look at you.

He whispers your name and quickly turns around. “Hi.”

“Breakfast is almost ready.” You blurt, not really sure what to say to him.

“Thanks, I’m not really that hungry. Look, can we talk?”

“Now’s not a good time, Evan. We should focus on work while we’re here not our personal issues.”

“Okay, well maybe we can meet somewhere after shift and talk.”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” You agreed quicker than you liked but a part of you believes the quicker he explains, the quicker you can get closure and move on from this. From him.

-

You’re not sure how long you sit there but you feel a shift behind you. You turn quickly to see Buck uncovering his face. He’s beyond confused and you’re sure he has a concussion.

“What happened?” He coughs.

You uncover your face and bend your neck to find his eyes. “We fell through the roof. Do you think you can walk?” You place a hand on his jaw.

Buck looks up at you but his gaze seems far away. He doesn’t answer as his eyes search yours.

“Evan, listen. We have to get out of here now. I need you to listen to me okay? Do what I say.” Your hand squeezes his cheeks inward and his lips are puckered. “We have to move.”

He nods softly and his hand holds onto your forearm, keeping your hand on his face. “You’re pretty, you know?”

“Evan, focus please.” You attempt to pull him up but his body is dead weight. “Oh my god. Please please work with me.” You whine.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, still slumped on the floor.

“Don’t apologize. I just need you to try. Even if it’s just you crawling behind me. I don’t want us to die in here.”

“I mean I’m sorry about the fights and the break up.” He attempts to look up at you. “You’re right. I can be reckless and it’s gotten me in trouble before. And hurt. A lot.”

“Evan, we said we’d talk about this later. I’d really like you to keep that promise.” You drop back to your knees. “If we make it out of here, you’ll have my full attention and I’ll even keep my mouth shut the entire time you ramble. Please…” you plea, grabbing his hands.

He nods and squeezes your hands. You stand and put your arms under his armpits to help lift him. He does the best he can in his dazed state. After getting him to stand, you throw his arm around your shoulder.

As you’re walking to the nearest wall, some pieces of wood and other materials fall from above causing you to shriek and pull Buck closer to you. He uses his height and body to shield you from any falling debris. It’s the least he can do he thinks. Your hands make contact with a wall and you pull him along.

“Do you see a door or exit anywhere?” You ask.

Buck squints his eyes and tries to center his vision on anything in the room. “I think there’s something over there.” He points to an area on his left side and guides you along the wall. His hand suddenly falls in the air and he’s found an opening. “Here, come in front.”

You maneuver your way in front of him, tripping over something on the floor. His hands hold you upright until you find a handrail in the opening. You take a cautious step and your boot meets with what feels like a step. “Buck, I think we found stairs. Can you make your way up?”

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.” He keeps one hand on your waist and the other on the rail.

Just as you’re making your way to the top, a door leading to air and light opens. You’re met with Eddie and Chim. “Did you lovebirds make up?”

“Shut up, Chim.” You and Buck say at the same time. “Where’s Hen? Buck needs to be looked over.”

“Let’s get you out first.” Eddie pulls Buck’s arm over his shoulders and you follow Chim out to safety. Eddie and Buck follow behind as you run to Hen. She begins checking your eyes.

You shake your head and push her over to Buck. “Are you sure?” She questions. You nod and sit on the back of the open ambulance. You shrug your gear off and lift your shirt to get a better look at the pain in your side. You can feel the soreness of a forming bruise.

“Want me to take a look at that?” Chim asks. You nod and move over so he can sit. “He’s over there asking where you are and if you’re okay.” You give Chim a look to stay out of it. “Just give the guy a second chance. He’s my friend and he’s an idiot sometimes. He acts before he thinks but he means well.”

“He’s also your brother in law. His wellbeing means a lot to you because it means a lot to Maddie.” You laugh. “Don’t worry. We’re going to talk when he’s feeling better. I already promised him.”

“Good.” He smiles and hops off the back of the truck. “I would hate to see you both throw away something special.”

“And I would hate to work with you both if you officially ended things.” Eddie joins in. “Imagine sad and whiny Buck.”

“And grumpy y/n.” Chim nudges his side.

“Okay, that’s enough from both of you.” Bobby laughs. “We gotta get you both to a hospital for a check up so let’s go.”

Hen and Chim help Buck onto a gurney and into the truck while you stay at his side. On the ride to the hospital, Buck just stares at you and holds his hand out. You roll your eyes and place your hand in his. He smiles triumphantly and closes his eyes.

“Do I really hold you back?” You ask.

“Hm?” Buck asks. His eyes opening softly.

You know it’s not fair to question him when his brain was rattled and he hasn’t had proper care yet. You don’t really care about that though.

“Did you mean it when you said I nag you? That it feels like I’m hovering? Or breathing down your neck?” Your voice is soft and quiet enough for him to hear but hopefully not too loud especially for the two eavesdroppers in the front to hear. You know they’re trying to listen as they’ve stopped their own conversation.

“You really remembered everything I said, huh?” He sighs.

“Were you hoping I’d forget?”

“A little bit yeah. I was hoping if you forgot the mean things I said, it’d be easier for you to forgive me.” He jokes. Chim facepalms, confirming they are listening to the conversation.

Your eyes shift to the front of the truck. “Maybe we should save this conversation for when we’re alone.”

“Why?” Chim turns in his seat. “You know he’s going to tell us all anyway. It’s better I hear the full thing so I can relay it to Maddie as a witness and not just Buck’s recollection of what happened.” Hen jabs Chim in the side to shut him up. You make your way to the hospital in silence, hand still in Buck’s.

Buck is sent home to rest up while you stay on light duty for the rest of the shift due to a bruised side. Nothing is broken or severely injured but Bobby wants to be safe.

After your shift, you head to your apartment before you make your way over to Buck’s apartment with takeout from his favorite restaurant, medicine and the anniversary gift you got weeks prior. You’re not sure how this conversation is going to go but you still want to have the necklace you bought it. A simple silver chain with your initial on it.

You knock and wait a few minutes before deciding to use your key. You tell yourself you’re crossing this boundary to make sure he’s okay even though you’re not technically his girlfriend anymore: When you enter his place, it’s quiet and dark. You place the bags in your hands on the counter and slip off your shoes. The all too familiar action leaving an ache in your heart.

“Buck?” You creep quietly up the stairs and find him sprawled on the bed. He’s shirtless, sleeping on his stomach, wrapped in dark blue sheets that are tangled around his waist. His arms are wrapped around the pillow he’s currently buried his face into. You place a hand on his bare back and rub gently.

He stirs only briefly before turning his head in your direction. He whispers your name as a question.

“How are you feeling? I brought some stuff.” You whisper.

“What time is it?” He groans, pushing himself up.

With a firm hand you push him back down. “It’s 10pm. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Go back to sleep. I’m going to get the food ready and I’ll bring yours up. Rest.”

“I can help.” He attempts to get up again.

“Evan, I’m serious. Stay. Relax.” You smile and run your fingers down his back before turning to head back downstairs.

“Wait! Wait…” He shouts before calming quickly, realizing his voice echoed throughout the apartment and disturbed the peace of the moment. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

You stop, frozen in place, thinking of your next words. You turn to him, “When we were on the roof I was struggling to maintain how mad at you I was.”

“Yeah, you were venting to roof pretty hard. I was afraid you were going to start hitting me next.” He laughs as you sit beside him.

Your fingers itch to touch him again. You decide to go for it and lightly massage his neck. As much as Buck loves your massages, he turns over, onto his back and brings your hand to his chest before pulling you into him. You shriek at the sudden movement and laugh before getting comfortable into his side.

“How’s your bruise?” He whispers into your hairline, eyes focused on your fingers making small outlines of hearts on his chest.

“Not too bad. How’s your noggin?” You shift to look at his face.

“Still big and empty.” He jokes. You silently laugh, body shaking against him. “I never thanked you for saving me. You really are a great firefighter. I’m such an idiot and an ass for ever saying anything about your abilities. I was projecting my insecurities onto you and trying to hurt you.”

“I was really scared. Not just for myself but for you. There was a split second where I did think maybe you were right and I’m not as good as I thought and I wouldn’t be able to get us out of there. I had to take a minute to breathe. Then it got me thinking about you being alone. When you run into buildings and climb ladders, I think about how scared you must be but you do it because it feels right to you. You care so much about others that you risk your life over and over again.”

“This job is everything to me but so are you. I haven’t been doing a good job of showing you that and instead of proving how much you mean to me, I ended things. It’s probably the dumbest thing I’ve done. Ever.”

“I think Cap and the rest of the team would beg to differ.” You laugh.

“At least Maddie would agree with me.” He laughs and moves his hands to the sides of your neck, holding your head to look at him. “The job is here now but it won’t be forever. You though, you’re here now and hopefully for the rest of my life.”

“As long as you don’t break up with me again.” You joke, hands resting on top of his.

“Never.” He brings his lips to yours, hardly containing his smile.

“I brought food and your anniversary gift. Maybe we can have a makeup date?” You push his chest back to get a look at him.

“You brought a gift? So, were you planning to forgive me before you even got here?” He smirks.

“Shut up, Evan. Just get your butt downstairs and start serving the food.”

“Yes ma’am.” He pecks your forehead before grabbing his shirt from the nightstand and heading downstairs. You smile to yourself once he descends the stairs before your eyes see the velvet box on his nightstand. Your eyes widen and you slowly reach for it.

“Don’t look in the box!” You jump at being caught. Buck has learned from his past mistakes of rushing into things so it’s not an engagement ring just yet. A simple bracelet with his birthstone.

[emotionally-cuckolded]

You've been aware that the two of them have been attracted to each other for quite some time. In fact, your wife has told you several times how much she likes him and how sexy she thinks he is, while he has told you many times how lucky you are to be married to her -- and he has told you several times how much he wishes she were single so that he could go out with her. Then, a couple of weeks ago -- he told you that for her birthday that was coming up, he was going to get her a ticket to go with him to a concert with one of her favorite groups -- but he wanted to make sure that would be OK with you. You weren't sure if it was -- but when you mentioned it to her, she got very excited and told you to definitely tell him that she would love to go with him.

But the thing is -- the concert is out of town (about two hours away) and would go very late, so their plan is to go out to dinner after driving there and then stay the night after the concert. And when he had come over on her birthday to tell her about the gift in person, she had given him a big, and very affectionate hug -- and a very affectionate kiss. And they both talked about their plans as a "date".

And then a bit later that evening -- the evening of her birthday, which you had planned to be a special romantic night for you and your wife -- after he had stayed for dinner and you all had several glasses of wine, he had suddenly teased you by openly asking her if she thought they would need two hotel rooms or if he could save some money by only paying for one -- and she had giggled then and laughingly said that one should be fine. And then he had laughed and followed that by asking whether that would still be OK even if the room had just one queen-sized bed instead of two beds, and she had again giggled and said one would be fine.

Surprisingly, it wasn't until that moment that you started to feel anxious about what might happen when they spent the night together after the concert. But still, even when your wife looked at you at that moment and said teasingly "That's OK with you hun, isn't it?" -- you didn't feel you really could give any answer except 'Yes, of course."

Your wife smiled at you when you said that, and said that going to that concert with him might be the best birthday present she's ever had -- which also made your stomach flip a bit since it was not a gift that you were giving her, but you also realized that it would be petty of you to say anything about all the gifts from you that she's received over the years at a moment when she was so excited about the gift from him.

Perhaps because you had all had quite a bit of wine, as you went to the family room to watch TV, their teasing of you continued. First, your wife sat on the loveseat directly in front of the TV, and when you went to sit beside her, she said in a laughing voice that she thought it would be nice if he sat beside her there tonight since he was the one who had given her such a nice gift -- which meant that they ended up sitting together there while you were in a comfy chair on the side.

And almost as soon as he was settled in next to her, she took his arm and put it around her while saying to you, teasingly again: "You don't mind if he and I snuggle a bit together, do you hun?". You said, once again, "No, of course not", but that didn't represent how you really felt. A few minutes later, you wife asked you to get them a blanket to share while they sat there, and so it wasn't long until they were close together on the loveseat, he with his arm around her shoulders while she had her head on his shoulder and with a large blanket across the two of them.

Because all the lights in the room were out, you couldn't see the two of them all that well, but through the glow of the TV you could see that they were very close and that from time to time they were kissing. And one time when they were kissing, your wife noticed you looking at them and she teasingly told you to stop looking their way -- that she was just giving him a few kisses as a way of saying thank you for the gift, and then ending again with "You don't mind, do you hun?".

You tried to do as she asked and not look away from the TV, but it was still hard for you to avoid noticing that there seemed to be a lot of activity underneath the blanket, and you could sense your wife starting to breath in a very sexually aroused way -- and so, it was in somewhat of a panting voice that your wife eventually told you -- much to your surprise -- that they both would like it if you could go out for a while.

"Hun" she said. "Could you go out and maybe do the weekly shopping now or something -- so that you're gone for an hour at least? We .. uh .. could use a little private time. You know -- to talk -- just the two of us. You'll do that for us, won't you? To help make my birthday really special?"

What choice did you have. So you somewhat meekly agreed -- first asking them if there was anything special they wanted you to buy, then grabbing the shopping list from the kitchen and heading out.

You took your time driving and shopping, so it was about another hour and a half before you got back home, arms full of groceries. As soon as you stepped into the house, you heard your wife giggling, and after putting away the groceries you went back into the family room, where you could dimly see your wife and your friend almost totally covered by the blanket -- but what looked like most of their clothes on the floor in front of them.

"THANKS hun", your wife said with another laugh. "Just one more thing -- another big ask as a special birthday treat from you. We were thinking that we probably need to test out if we are comfortable sleeping together in a queen size bed, so we'd like tonight to be our "test" night for that. So what I'm saying is" she continued with a giggle "that maybe you could go down to the basement guest room for tonight so we can have the master bedroom? You've been so great about helping to make this such a wonderful birthday evening. And I'm sure you'll be comfortable down there. OK sweetie?"

Again -- what choice did you have. And so -- your wife and best friend spent the night upstairs in your bed while you spent the night alone in the basement

[skelesunderthetale]

First kiss? How? 💕

Sans (Undertale) Sans wouldn't be the one making the first move, that's for sure. You'd have to be the one initiating or at least give him a sign that you would want to try out kissing. He's a bit romantic without even trying, so it'd be after a dinner date. It didn't need to be classy, you like him for his simplicity. If it had been a while since you guys were together, you would've been thinking about it for a while and would feel a bit relieved. But if it hasn't been a while, he would be surprised by your boldness. It'd be a soft smooch on the mouth. Red (Underfell) More straight forward, and it would happen not long after meeting if there was immediate flirting. If it's more of a slow burn, it would happen a short bit after getting together for real. After that, he's definitely not letting you go, he's very clingy sometimes and probably more than you. Probably annoying about it too, but tells you he's just teasing with a smirk on his face (he's not, he's hurt if you reject him). Blue (Underswap) Romance lord. Literally thinks it's wrong to kiss before dating, only hand holding allowed. If you meet him at a party or a bar, try to flirt and things go hot too quickly, he'll be the one to reject you. If you're his type (probably, I mean he doesn't have very high standards), he'll ask you out for a date the week after, he's a very busy skeleman! If you think you can kiss him after the first date, well... you guys aren't really there yet. He's very patient about it, and should be too if you want him that bad. After all this courtship, you find out he was worth the wait. Dream (Dreamtale) Another one that you'll need to make the first move for. It's not that he's shy, but that he feels like it's not his thing to do stuff like that. Add a bit of hyperselfconsciousness and awkwardness, and you have him when it comes to physical intimacy and romantic feelings. He can feel if you have good intentions or not, and if your heart is pure enough something between you two COULD happen. You also need his trust, and have to convince him that he can let himself loose more often. Nightmare (Dreamtale) Just like Dream, it's not that he's shy. For him it's because he just really hates it. If you want a chance at it, you have to take him by surprise, which isn't easy to start with. Also, you need to have a good friendship already or a nice enough relationship if you don't want him to rip you apart (and not in any of the possible good ways, I promise you). He's not gonna just blush and look away like in a cute comic, he's not a tsundere or whatever, Nightmare will stare into your soul until you apologise. Good luck guys! Ink (___tale) Ink thinks it's just a fun thing, if he knows you enough. Ask him and he'd probably do it, not directly on the mouth though. Of course he knows the meaning, and would ask you if you realise he's not really the type of guy you should consider as a future lover, but if you're sure that there's no other feelings involved, he's fine. But like... why do that though? Is it because you're curious about how a skeleton with an actual mouth feels like? Error (Errortale) Ouch, very hard to do that in general. He's a bit more easy to fall in love with than Ink or Nightmare, but he's still not the lovey-dovey guy from your dreams, and he knows that, and it irritates him. Even if he finds interest in you, or even loves you, it's hard for him to fight his phobia and fears. You need to be patient, and let him come to you first. Killer (Something New) Another one that doesn't really wait up on things like courting or relationship stages. You like him? What the hell but damn he likes you too so let's go! He has close to no experience, and it's messy, the kiss and your face after... because his tears are definitely tainting it. He knows you're a freak anyway, so he doesn't try to avoid that. Author note: I just wanted to give something during my winter break. A lot happened since my last post. I wrote something for Dust but Tumblr doesn't like it.

[wandering-pirate]

Headcannon: controlling jimmy like your evil little dog. Is he lowkey a psychopath? Yes. Will he do literally anything for you? Also yes

a/n: To the lovely anon who sent this, mwah, chef's kiss🤌🏻 you’ve unleashed something unholy. be warned tho, this entire thing? no thoughts, no logic, just pure, unfiltered degeneracy for our co-pilot (sometimes you just gotta let the intrusive thoughts write the headcanon, y’know?)

So enjoy the ride—you sicko. (cause girl, same.)

Jimmy x Reader

Jimmy Zane is one peculiar man, and somehow, he became your boyfriend. How'd that happen? You better blame your slasher-film obsession as a kid.

Your Human Guard Dog

The man acts like you're gonna get snatched from him 24/7. Imagine being in public with him. Scaring some, unnerving many.

Some guy accidentally brushes past you, and Jimmy’s already stepping up with a cold smirk

“Apologize. Or don't. Been looking for an excuse today.”

You have to grab and drag him away (not helping that the man's built like log) before he ruins a face for the second time this month. “Baby, please, we’re here for snacks.”

But the moment you give him a subtle signal, tho? Oh, it's game over.

Some creep starts chatting you up with a repulsive smile, and Jimmy doesn’t even raise his voice when he appears behind you. Just leans in, looking them dead in the eye:

“You wanna keep those teeth or should I start counting them out.”

You casually mention being annoyed at your co-worker for being too yappy and Jimmy?

Yeah, already halfway out the door

“Say no more, princess.”

Physically stopping him was impossible and you wagered with the pervert, all night letting off his steam through you

Your Unhinged Yes-Man

After the restaurant's reception was rude on your friends' night out. You texted him

“Ugh, I’d love to see this place burn to the ground.”

No replies from him, but 5 minutes later, you nearly drenched your friends with wine you're drinking when you saw him outside, holding a can of gasoline

One time, you complained about someone’s annoying laugh. Jimmy didn’t say anything, just calmly glanced your way with that familiar glint in his eyes.

“Don’t even think about it,”

“What?” he said innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

Later that night, he casually asked

“How much do you hate that laugh? Want me to rip their throat out? No more ha-ha’s ever again.”

“STOP TRYING TO SOLVE EVERYTHING WITH VIOLENCE!”

The man's pride was more hurt than his face when the pillow landed, you paid for it tho ;)

Your Deranged Liaison

Want something without spending a dime? You can get it by the magic effect of compliments!

"Oh, I love your jacket!" Boom, appeared in your closet the next day, suspiciously smelling like someone else’s perfume

"That scarf’s so cute!" Already folded on your pillow the week after, and you’re 90% sure you saw a TikTok about it missing

“Jimmy, why is there a name tag stitched into this shirt?”

“Souvenirs are better with backstories.”

"Is-- is this blood?"

You finally confront Jimmy: “Isn’t this… someone else’s?”

He just shrugs, smiling sweetly (unnervingly wide) “Not anymore.”

[selfloverrrrrr]

Lust~(part-2)

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, threesom....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

Next morning when I woke up it was too early in the morning. Gojo was still sleeping beside me. Did I fall asleep after that last night? Fuck....I should sneak out quietly. I slowly pushed off his hand from top of me making sure he's not awake. Then took my clothes put it on and run away.

I went to school with a scarf around my neck. I was wishing while walking through the corridor that I wouldn't meet Gojo. But happened exactly what I didn't wanted. A hand wrapped around my neck. "Why did you sneak in the morning?" He asked. I almost jumped from the sudden voice.

I didn't reply and continued walking. "Awwww ignoring me even after being my whore for last night?" He asked. I looked around with a terrified expression checking that nobody heard it. "And I told you not to cover your neck... didn't I?" He asked and was about to pull the scarf. I grabbed his hand.

"Gojo please..." I said. He smirked. "Finally spoke?....fine sweetheart. After all I should fulfill my GIRLFRIEND'S wishes" he said and winked at me. Then went away from there. Almost a week passed. Gojo was out of town. Today all of a sudden Geto came to me. "Hey y/n...I didn't saw you after that halloween party" he said.

"yeah.... it's been a long time" I replied. "Why did you leave there that night? I thought you were there but when I came back you weren't" he said. So that means Gojo was lying? Geto wasn't in his plan? I knew he was lying! Why would Geto?! He'd never! I knew it. "I'm sorry... I wasn't feeling well that night" I replied.

He closed the door and without saying anything he kissed me. Then looked at me. "You know..... you're so pretty. I never thought I was going to see anyone this pretty in our college" he said. then kissed me again. This time deep kiss. I kissed him back. As I kissed him back he picked me up and went towards his bedroom.

The kiss kept deepening and he fell on his back on the bed with me on his top. I chuckled. He sat up with me on his lap and rested his back on the headboard. "You're so handsome" I said rubbing my hand on his chest. "You think so?" He asked with a smirk. "I do" I replied.

"the way you're believing me.... didn't anyone warned you about me?" He asked. "Yes... Shoko did" I replied. "As I thought" he chuckled. "And what did she say?" He asked. "That you may seem so innocent but you are dangerous" I replied. "Yeah yeah..." He said and rolled his eyes. "She's not wrong though" he said and pulled me again in a kiss.

His lips on mine. Tongue thrusting inside my mouth, we both grinding on each other's crotch, with one of his hands he grabbed my hair, with another hand pushing me more on his crotch and with another hand grabbing my breast and squeezing it and another month on my neck? WAIT WAIT WAIT.... how's that even possible?!

I immediately pushed off and turned around my head and and and I regret it now. There's Gojo sitting with a smirk on his face. "What's the matter y/n? You look like you've seen a ghost" he said and leaned towards me. My heart felt like now it's gonna be out the way it's beating. My breath was almost stopped.

I turned my head at Geto again. And he has the exact same smirk on his face. "What? Didn't you said Shoko warned you about me? Should've listened to her" he said and they both laughed. What the hell is happening?! Why am I in this fucked up situation!!! "You know... Suguru wanted to have you too... and I believe in sharing is caring but what do I see here? Cheating on your boyfriend? Very very bad" Gojo whispered and pulled me on his lap.

"you're not my boyfriend...let me go.... you both can burn in hell" I said and went up. Geto grabbed me and pulled me again. "Look Satoru you made her hate me as well ..... I thought I won't have to force! " Geto said. "Ah you don't know her she's a bitch....I think maybe she likes when We force her?" Gojo said with a smirk. "No I don't!!! Let me fucking go!!!!" I screamed.

Gojo started caressing my inner thigh under my skirt and slide his hand inside my pantie and started rubbing my clit. I was about to stop him but Geto grabbed my another hand. "Didn't you said you want it...so what happened now?" Geto asked. Gojo started rubbing his crotch on my ass. "Gojo stoppp" I screamed. He started rubbing my clit more roughly. "But baby... your pussy is telling me not to stop... Suguru, she's wet as fuck" Gojo said and ripped off my pantie.

I tried to close my legs but Gojo grabbed both of my thighs and spread them. "Spread those legs wide, slut" Gojo whispered in my ear. Geto looked at my exposed pussy. I looked away with shame. "Damnn... We should fuck her then, Satoru" Geto said. "Of course" Gojo said with a smirk. Then there was I, on my fours. All of our clothes were on the floor. I'm begging them to stop the humiliation. Geto thrusting his dick in my mouth and Gojo in my pussy from back. I squeezed my eyes.

Tears flowing down. My mouth was wide open. Geto's dick inside my mouth takes the whole length slowly. It was too big. Geto's breath hitched. He threw his head back mouth wide open. He pulled my hair telling me to suck hard. I slowly sucked his dick and his legs shook. He bobbed my head up and down. His tip was poking the back of my throat. He grabbed my hair and started bobbing my head up and down faster. "Oh god...oh god.... don't...ahhhh... don't stop!!!!" Geto moaned out loudly. He was bobbing my head up and down faster and faster. He suddenly felt that Geto was close. In a few minutes he came inside my mouth. He grabbed my chin "Swallow it y/n" geto said squeezing my mouth which made me swallow. I squeezed my eyes shut and he forced me to swallow.

On the other hand Gojo was thrusting too roughly. He was slamming his whole dick inside me. I screamed. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight, Suguru this pussy might be the death of me!!!" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I squeezed the bedsheet to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. " Slut should fucking take what I'm giving her." He whimpered. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

Geto pulled me and made me sit on his lap. He touched my right boob with his hand and pinched the nipple. I whimpered. "She can take both of us together Suguru" Gojo said. "Can she?" Geto asked with a smirk. "Of course she can she said she'll do anything to help us" Gojo smirked back at Geto. "No no no....not again... please please please... not again" I cried out. Gojo's smirk widened and he crashed his mouth on my boob sucking harshly. I moaned loudly.

They both lined up with me. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " Gojo no no no... P-please no...Geto please s-stop" I begged but they didn't even listen to me and slammed their whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. They didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. It was too much...they both were big and thick....it was giving too much pain. I was through my legs with pain and begging them to stop. And they liked it so much. Their thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around them tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh.... f-fuck...it's so tight " Geto moaned. "Told you " Gojo said between moans and started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bit his shoulder and scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. They were still thrusting roughly. I felt their cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. They both moaned loudly. Within a minute they came inside me so I could feel their seed inside me. My vision blurred out.

They both pulled out. "Gotta say....you weren't wrong tho ...she feels like heaven" Geto said. "I know she does" Gojo replied and laughed loudly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[ponkydraws]

Johnlock rant pt 2

You thought I was only gonna write Sherlock’s perspective? No. Anyway. John.

Spoilers + suggestive themes ahead.

You have been warned.

John is introduced as a character who has trust issues and is wary of the world, partially because of his PTSD. He is a retired soldier. He has seen it all. But as Mycroft remarks, “you’re not haunted by the war. You miss it.”

There is a very obvious difference in John’s reaction to Sherlock’s deduction and Mycroft’s deduction. He’s star struck when Sherlock does it, but when Mycroft does the same thing he glares at him and asks “who the hell are you?” Yes, the circumstances of the scenes obviously affect his reactions, but even with a dead woman on the ground in front of him he can’t help but praise Sherlock’s intellect, so clearly discomfort isn’t much of a factor. You could argue that John is being defensive on account of being scared, but Mycroft outwardly tells John “you don’t seem very afraid” and John simply says “you don’t seem very frightening”.

And to add onto this, Mycroft clearly has suspicions about their relationship and outwardly says so. John simply says “I barely know him, I met him…yesterday” and Mycroft says “Mm, and since yesterday you’ve moved in with him and now you’re solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?” John doesn’t respond nor acknowledge the question, but asks “who are you?”. Mycroft simply assumes that the man Sherlock is living with is a romantic and/or sexual partner, meaning he’s not surprised at all by the idea that Sherlock would be in a relationship with a man.

When John asks what he wants he says that he wants information about Sherlock, but quickly adds “nothing indiscreet. Nothing you’d feel…uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he’s up to.” Which does sound like a polite way of saying that he doesn’t want nor need to know about what he gets up to behind closed doors (presumably with John, since he says nothing that JOHN would be uncomfortable with telling, not Sherlock), he just wants to check on how his brother is doing. The definition for indiscreet also is “having, showing, or proceeding from too great a readiness to reveal things that should remain private or secret” so I think it speaks for itself what he’s implying. He’s just an older brother who wants to make sure his younger brother is okay, but makes sure to inform John that he’s not interested in hearing about Sherlock’s sex life.

Other than that, Mycroft seems to genuinely like and respect John. He bids him farewell when leaving, asks him about his life, even if it’s just “what’s it like living with Sherlock?” And Mycroft clearly knows how much John means to Sherlock. They have this semi-brother in law situation going on

John has on multiple occasions risked his own life to save Sherlock’s. When Moriarty is threatening Sherlock, he throws himself at Moriarty and tells Sherlock to run. This is despite the knowledge that this would get himself killed & “if your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr Moriarty, then we both go up” and Moriarty mainly shows amusement, but still tells Sherlock “isn’t he sweet? I can tell why you like having him around.”

In the final problem, John agrees quite quickly that Sherlock should shoot him instead of Mycroft and takes it with stride. He does not fight it. He accepts that he has to die in order for Sherlock to live.

In the very first episode - I repeat - the very first episode, John shoots a man to death because Sherlock was in danger. What’s so interesting about this whole scene is that Sherlock was not under direct threat, he was choosing to take one of the pills but John shot the man anyway.

- Sherlock also realizes halfway through his deduction to the police that John is the one who shot the cabbie, and immediately takes back what he said about the murderer to keep John out of trouble. He does not care about John killing a man, he’s more worried about John’s well being. He even compliments him on the aim and the two of them walk away from the crime scene giggling like 12 year old girls.

John dates a string of women throughout the show although they always end up in some kind of bad ending. As stated in the previous rant, John’s girlfriends are sick of being less important than Sherlock. And if you’re really keen on details (which, you’re watching Sherlock, of course you are) you’ll find that one of the women he dates wears a coat that resembles Sherlock’s, and she pulls her collar up in the same way Sherlock does. Subconscious attraction? Neither does he actually find a long term relationship until he believes that Sherlock is DEAD, and it takes him 2 whole years to even try to move on with his life (but only needed 2 months for Mary’s passing?)

Now, John is a jealous and protective man. Even more outwardly so than Sherlock is. Mycroft even comments on it when they meet for the very first time - “you are VERY loyal, VERY quickly.” he notes as he makes a face that implies even he is surprised about how sure John is of his decision. When faced with a naked Irene Adler and Sherlock in the same room, he actively interrupts their conversation to get in the way. He passively aggressively tells Irene to put some clothes on and then remains skeptical of her for the entire episode. When they’re talking another time he also interrupts and making an unamused joke about baby names.

He displays a sense of protective behavior when he meets Irene again after Sherlock’s alleged “heartbreak” and gets outright mad at her for treating him like that. He even shouts at her despite Irene not showing any aggressive behavior “WHAT DO YOU NORMALLY SAY? YOU’VE TEXTED HIM A LOT”. Speaking of the texts from Irene, John not only is the only one to point out the text notification noise but also admits to actively counting the amount of messages Sherlock has received, which, yeah a handful would’ve been acceptable but this man kept track of 57 NOTIFICATIONS on a phone that’s not his. (This isn’t really a real point but someone joked about how Sherlock asks John “what noise?” When John addresses the moaning text notifications despite knowing very well what noise he’s talking about, as if he’s expecting him to repeat it or something. Not really relevant but it made me laugh)

In this conversation with Irene, he admits to having no clue what Sherlock’s sexuality is, quote: “who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes, but, for the record, if anyone out there still cares, I’m not actually gay”. Irene responds with “well I am. Look at us both”. Which earns a defeated scoff from John. Irene asks John if he’s jealous about her texting Sherlock so much, John does not answer the question but tells her “we’re not a couple” to which Irene immediately says “yes you are” without even looking up at him. John does not fight back, but makes a vague nod and leaves it at that.

John repeatedly tells various characters that he is not gay - but only that. He never says that he’s not attracted to men, he’s not attracted to Sherlock or anything like that. No. He just says he’s not gay. Bisexuality is a thing. He could very well be a closeted bisexual who struggles a little with accepting it. It’s possible that his lesbian sister wasn’t treated with respect by the family and that has caused some inner turmoil, but that’s a fan theory we’re not going to get into right now

John also seems to be the only one thinking about how gay they look in certain situations. After saving John’s life, John says “I’m glad nobody saw that. You…ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool, people might talk.” As if he didn’t almost just literally explode. A near death experience leaving him weak in the knees and he’s thinking about how people will think he and Sherlock were getting it on in a darkened swimming pool? Okay, buddy. This also goes for when they’re running from the police handcuffed to each other and Sherlock tells John “take my hand!” To which John says “now they’ll definitely talk.” I would argue that if you are constantly thinking about how gay certain things you do with your best friend are and how people will talk, maybe people aren’t the ones who should reevaluate themselves, maybe you are, seeing as you’re having gay thoughts even when fearing for your own life.

Oh and we haven’t even gotten into the pool scene. I don’t know if it was accidental but when Sherlock undoes John’s jacket to get rid of the bombs, he gets on his knees in front of John - who leans his head backwards as Sherlock looks up at him. Then afterward he’s so visibly weak in the knees he has to sit down to even talk. All of this is filmed from behind Sherlock. They could’ve filmed it in any other way. But that’s what they chose? Okay. Totally doesn’t remind me of anything else or anything.

When Sherlock is pretending to be dating Janine, John seems so genuinely out of it. He watches Sherlock and Janine make out with widened eyes, before turning around to stare at the wall with a disgusted and horrified expression on his face. He can’t even pretend to not be shocked, he barely manages to keep himself together and is outwardly very awkward when talking to them. Janine offers that they should have dinner together sometime soon and John just goes “yeah, great. Dinner. Yeah.” With a halfassed smile on his face as if he can’t bring himself to even mimic regular conversation. Once Janine has left, Sherlock starts talking to John about a case. John is not listening. When Sherlock stops talking John just goes “…you have a girlfriend?” And Sherlock seems surprised and confused by the question, since he had already moved on from that conversation. Sherlock confirms that yes, he does have a girlfriend. John still can’t properly process the information and asks again “right, yeah, but…you…you are in a relationship?” Despite already being told the answer.

When Sherlock proposes to Janine, John looks shocked. But it morphs into something else. He looks at Sherlock with a horrified expression, his eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief and his mouth hanging slightly open. This is not the face of someone who is shocked in a good way. It’s the face of someone who just got a metaphorical gut punch. The camera even shifts focus from the ring to John staring at it with a hardened expression, then to staring at Sherlock with a shocked and mildly pleading look.

He also punches an officer in the face for calling Sherlock a “weirdo”. When Sherlock hands him an itemized list of Mary’s enemies he doesn’t even look twice but one vague insult to Sherlock and he gives the man a bloody nose and gets arrested as well - Sherlock taunts him a little with his “joining me?” Comment but seems genuinely a little impressed when he finds out why John is also being taken into custody.

When getting drunk together (which, Sherlock was the only one who John spent his bachelor party with), they get wasted and start to play a game of Who Am I? They’re weirdly gentle and soft with each other, making playful jabs and breaking down into laughter at each other’s statements. Sherlock, who has a note on his forehead that says “Sherlock Holmes”, asks John “am I important?” To which John responds “uh, to some people” and smiles. Sherlock asks “do people like me?” And John says “uh, no, they don’t. You tend to rub them up the wrong way.” And then rests his head on his hand while he lovingly gazes at Sherlock and chuckles at his own statement with a look of love that looks like one you’d give a lover when they’re being cute. John asks Sherlock “am I pretty?” And then follows up with “this” and points to the note on his forehead. Basically this is John asking if he’s pretty, then having to specify that he meant the person Sherlock picked, and not actually himself, as if he was expecting Sherlock to call him pretty without understanding the question was meant for the game. Sherlock does not answer the question, but rather goes on a drunken mini rant about how beauty is a social construct based on culture and John interrupts him saying “yeah, but, am I a pretty lady?”

Sherlock remains quiet, squints at John’s note and then admits “I have no idea who you’re supposed to be”. John rolls his eyes and tells him “you chose the name!” But isn’t genuinely upset, just amused. With his drunken stumbling, he also loses his balance when shifting his sitting position and grabs onto Sherlock’s leg for support. Sherlock doesn’t react. The two of them later fall asleep next to each other on the bottom of the stairs, babbling about nonsense. Mind you, John couldn’t sleep comfortably in a warm bed next to Mary, but had no trouble finding peace when laying down on the fucking stairs next to Sherlock.

During this same evening, John has to interfere and physically drag Sherlock away from a drunk fight at the pub. Same goes for when Sherlock is drugged by Irene, where John comes into the room and promptly grabs ahold of Sherlock and pushes him back onto the bed telling him “I’ll be in the next room if you need me” Sherlock groggily replies with “why would I need you?” And John simply says “no reason” and shuts the door.

Oh also John and Sherlock got locked up together in the same drunk tank. How cute is that?

And oh my god the fucking sexual tension between these two makes me feel like I’m interrupting something intimate. Even in the first episode, Sherlock asks John if he’d seen a lot of violent death. John goes “yeah, plenty. Far too much. For a lifetime.” And when Sherlock then asks “would you like to see some more?” John replies with a breathless “oh god, yes.” The same tone can be detected in the 1800s episode an exchange between Sherlock and John, where John tells Sherlock “ah, ah, ah, Holmes, you have misdiagnosed”. Sherlock lowly says “then correct me, doctor” and gives him such obvious “fuck me” eyes that I felt embarrassed watching the scene with my dad. The episode also includes John asking about Sherlock’s libido - no - I am not joking. And here’s the kicker. None of this is real, it’s all happening inside of Sherlock’s subconscious. So my question is, why does Sherlock’s subconscious make up scenes where his platonic best friend is asking him about certain urges and speaking to him with a flirty tone?

John also has a habit of letting his eyes drop to Sherlock’s lips when talking to him, or straight up licking his lips when Sherlock reveals he’s single (in the pilot). They look into each other’s eyes for just a littleeee too long for it to feel friendly.

This is just me being a little bit of an annoying fan who misinterprets everything but Eurus asks Sherlock to play the violin for her. He does, but she stops him saying “no, not Bach. Play you.” And Sherlock starts playing another tune. She blurts out “oh! Have you had sex?” And Sherlock simply goes “why do you ask?” Again, not answering the question. Obviously that question is a bit strange to ask your older brother when you haven’t even seen him since the two of you were little kids and he doesn’t remember you exist, but, once again he doesn’t feel the need to confirm or deny. I see a lot of people saying this is a hint to Irene, and it probably is, but I personally find it more likely he’d hypothetically find time to get into…adult contact…with someone he lives with. But that’s sidetracking. Anyway.

[raayllum]

set after 7x02. doesn't necessarily fit the prompts for today (but maybe right/wrong) for sorpeli week!

Soren is the one who tells her exactly what transpired at sunset in front of the Banther Lodge. Opeli had caught glimpses from the windows during the event—not much, but enough to be horrified—and rushed out when she realized the young queen's arrow was pointed at the crown prince, and—

High Mage Ca—Prince Callum is already gone by the time she reaches the porch, Ezran's expression as icy as the spikes still entrapping his guards' legs. She doesn't dare ask the king what's happened, his expression more dark and brooding than she's ever seen it, exchanging a mildly worried look with Corvus over his head, the crownguard staying as Ezran stalks over to his throne for the evening, quiet and shaking and angry.

Soren pulls her aside before she can go to their king.

They stand in the fading light of one of the upstair windows, his brow furrowed and her lips pursed and growing more tightly pressed together with every word that falls from Soren's mouth. Somehow, she manages to let him reach the end of his tale before she bursts, her mind spinning—brothers, betrayal, treason, the kingslayer, and the notch of Queen Aanya's arrow, and Callum's resignation—

"I cannot believe it," she hisses, not quite sure exactly what it means even to herself.

Soren gestures simply with one hand and an unimpressed raise of his eyebrow. "Can't you?"

They share a flat look, Opeli's anger deflating and withering away into something sharper. She'd never liked the girl all that much—how could she, after a two week dalliance at the castle and being an assassin and then breaking Prince Callum's heart?—and now... It means I trust her. Unconditionally.

A foolish boy blinded by love, apparently.

"This is exactly why I didn't want him to be with an elf! It divides his loyalties. It's driven him mad—"

"Whoa, wait," Soren takes her by the arm with one large hand, gentle yet firmly, the other arm folded over his chest. "She's not 'the elf'."

Opeli tsks. "Not you too. She's the reason Prince Callum—"

"She might be the motivation," Soren says. "But however I feel about Callum's choices, they're his choices. She looked as surprised to see him as anyone... Maybe Callum saw, or knows, something we don't."

"But..."

"I'm not saying King Ezran is wrong to want to imprison the assassin," Soren says, hedging his weight from foot to foot. "But he nearly had Callum shot over it. You gotta admit that Ezran isn't quite... himself, right now."

Opeli steps away, eyes downturned. "No," she agrees at least, as much as it feels counterintuitive to every instinct she has. "He's not. But he's our king, Soren. That means—"

"—we're sworn to him, I know." He studies her, eyes blue and softly scrutinizing. "How are you doing? With the king and the prince... do your loyalties feel divided?"

He phrases like he wonders if they ever could be—if there could ever be anything she'd put above her duty to the crown—and besides her faith, perhaps, she doesn't believe so.

"I am fine," she answers truthfully. The brothers will make amends. Ezran will see through this night, and Callum will return. Eventually. She's always been good at having faith.

Soren lets out a tiny snort, his lips twitching. "Of course you are." He gives her arm a little squeeze and then lets go. "Come on. We should eat something. It's going to be a long couple of days."

But, at the very least Opeli supposes, they can face it together.