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ittybittyfanblog · 3 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol. Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night.

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that.

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break.

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?”

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around.

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five.

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much.

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding.

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd.

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal.

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time.

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia?

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend—

Ping!

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart.

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address?

Ah, just like clockwork.

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals—for more than you’d care to admit—to boot up.

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress.

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion.

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain.

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?”

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character.

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some.

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life.

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well.

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin.

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness.

What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.”

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue.

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means.

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!”

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game, you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different.

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.”

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night.

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face.

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker— then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.”

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%.......

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez— Huh?”

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary.

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever.

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock.

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?”

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face.

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter.

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.”

Helplessly, you open your inventory next.

Your jaw drops.

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This– this can’t be real.”

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this—this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada.

Holy shit.

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes.

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?”

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative.

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks.

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose.

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut.

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie.

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk.

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC.

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.”

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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adrienneleclerc · 6 months ago

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Bitch, Whats For Dinner?

Pairing: Lando Norris x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Lando sees an old TikTok resurfacing and decides to prank his girlfriend for a quadrant video.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this was originally going to be a Logan Sargeant fic but then I thought “what does he have to gain from this?” So I switched to Lando.

Since it was summer break, Lando decided it was time to film a video for Quadrant. He went to his gaming room to film the beginning.

“Since I am not racing for another few weeks, I thought what better time to prank my lovely girlfriend than today. There’s this TikTok posted by Dusten Conti where he says to his girlfriend ‘bitch, what’s for dinner?’ And his girlfriend actually answers him so sweetly. Knowing my girlfriend, she will not act so sweetly to me calling her a bitch, but I want to know how she reacts.” Lando said.

Y/N was out grocery shopping for dinner so Lando hid a video camera on a shelf, pointing the camera to the kitchen. She came home 10 minutes later and Lando decided to wait until he heard music playing because that means Y/N is on the preparation stage of cooking (chopping ingredients). Lando got out of his gaming room, observing Y/N chopping onions and tomatoes on the cutting board, singing along to whatever song she was playing. Lando made eye contact with the camera before saying the words..

“Bitch, what’s for dinner.” Lando said. Y/N put the knife down and looked around the apartment. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to see if there’s another person I don’t know about because I KNOW you did NOT just call me a bitch.” Y/N responded and picked up the knife. “So leave, come back, and try that again.” Y/N said, moving the knife as she talked. Lando did just that.

“What’s for dinner, baby girl?” Lando asked and Y/N smiled.

“That’s much better, fresita. I’m making bistec encebollado, It’s steak sautéed in onions and tomatoes with white rice. We can add a fried egg to it and make it ‘a lo pobre’ if you want, that’s how I’m eating it.” Y/N said. Lando hugged her from behind.

“I love you, baby girl.” Lando said.

“I love you too, mi vida, now why the fuck did you call me a bitch?” Y/N asked. Lando unwrapped his arms from her.

“I wanted to prank you for a quadrant video. Honestly, I expected you to react so much worse.” Lando said and Y/N turned to look at him.

“What do you take me for? I’m not a violent person, love.” Y/N said.

“Uh huh, I’ll believe you when you stop taking notes while watching true crime documentaries.” Lando said. Y/N hit him with a dish towel, causing Lando to laugh. “In all seriousness, if I ever end up calling you a bitch and it’s not a prank, I’ll give you full permission to kill me.”

“There are research chemicals that don’t show up in a toxicology screen. They’re the chemical cousins of drugs and since the molecules are modified, they don’t show up on tox screens unless you know what you’re looking for.” Y/N said with an innocent smile while Lando looks slightly terrified.

“You scare me.” Lando admitted.

“As I should. But I hate needles so I wouldn’t kill you like that.” Y/N said, turning back to resume chopping the vegetables.

“How would you kill me then?!?” Lando asked.

“Let it go, baby.” Y/N said. Lando went to the shelf and stopped the video from recording, placing it in his gaming room to charge,

After dinner, Lando and Y/N went to the gaming room to film the end.

“Thanks for watching, I just found out I am dating a psychopath.” Lando said and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Please, anyone who has seen Criminal Minds would know about research chemicals and you literally gave me permission to kill you.” Y/N said.

“I didn’t know you actually thought about ways to kill someone!” Lando exclaimed.

“But now you know to never call me a bitch so, lesson learned.” Y/N said. Both said “bye” and waved to the camera. After transferring the video clips to his computer, editing the clips and posted it on the quadrant channel.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris

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sweatyracoon · 5 months ago

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Skz Reactions!

Summary: You're on your period, and leak through your pants/shorts.

A/n: ALL members, I know I used Felix as a crutch a lot sorry

Warnings: blood mentions, suggestive (not all), language

Bangchan:

You and the eight boys had been friends ever since they debuted, meeting because you were one of the staff. You were near their age, which helped the bond.

You were particularly close with Han and Bangchan, them being so similar to you.

While filming a dance practice, you felt something painful in your abdomen, immediately making you cringe. It was too early to start, so you brushed it off as a simple pre-cramp. You continued with the camera.

During break, while the guys watched the video for mistakes, Bangchan came up next to you, gagging you from behind. He loved hugs, and you were never one to say no. He was just to comfortable.

But after a few seconds, he let his grip loosen, making you yearn to feel him again.

He didn't step up next to you; he didn't leave his place behind you. Then, you heard a noise, one like the sound of clothing being removed.

You went to turn, but Bangchan stopped you, whispering, "Don't turn, y/n. You have a red spot on your jeans."

You froze.

Sure, he was your best friend, but to go through something like this? Your ears flushed, scrunching your nose.

Then, his arms wrapped around you again, this time holding the sleeves to his sweater, wrapping it snugly around your waist.

"Here, no one will know, okay? Don't be embarrassed. After this, just go change," Bangchan finally came into view in front of you, smiling gently.

"Channie, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be, y/n. Its normal, I get it."

"But, I don't want to ruin your sweater-" You try pleading with him, face flushed.

"It can be washed, silly. Besides-" he paused, leaning in slightly. "I don't mind a bit of blood."

Before you could become more of a mess, he grinned and turned back to the guys. Getting in their positions.

"Hey, where'd your sweater go, hyung?"

"Y/ns holding it for me. It got too hot in here,"

Lee know:

You were in the kitchen with Felix and Lee know, the two guys you considered your closest friends. They both enjoyed cooking with you, and that made you happy.

It was late, you were sporting your white tee, and a pair of shorts that were cut a bit too short, but they guys didn't care. As long as you were comfortable.

The menu was simple, sushi and ramen. Quick, but filling.

The boys worked their magic, allowing you to help with slicing or heating.

As you went to roll some rice, a cramp knocked the wind out of you, the boys noticing the sharp intake of breath.

"Y/n? You okay, noona?" Felix asked, patting your shoulder.

"Mhm," you breathed out, nodding. "Sorry. Don't worry, it's all good."

"Okay," Felix responded, reluctantly going back to what he was doing.

You were suddenly tired, rolling less and less, leaning against the counter.

You heard shuffling behind you, and then a small gasp. That's when you felt it. The small, subtle trickle running down your leg. Blood.

Before you could get any words out, you heard Minho say to Felix, "An aspirin and a pair of sweats from my room," all Felix did was nod, looking shocked.

You went to move as the said that, but Minhos arms around your waist stopped you from cleaning the blood running down your leg.

"Minho, I-" you couldn't help but cringe when you felt the wet, cold paper towel running up your inner thigh.

Minho dragged it all the way up into your shorts, making you shudder. The coldness kept you alert and aware, feeling how he was taking care of you.

"Don't let this embarrass you, Y/n. It happens, okay? Here, put your hand where mine is," he told you, waiting for you to listen.

When Felix came back with the stuff, Minho led you to his room, blocking the sight of you from anyone passing by, trying his best to protect your image.

"Thank you, Min. I really appreciate it."

"No worries,"

Changbin:

As Bangchans younger sister, you often found yourself in the company of the 8 boys. You loved them all to death and hoped they felt the same.

Changbin by far was your favorite, because he was genuine with you. You had listened to his insecurities and helped him through them, only to be rewarded with hugs and random raps. You didn't mind.

You were sitting on one of the cushioned chairs in the lounge room, waiting for the boys to finish their interview.

It was at the JYP studio, so you weren't worried, knowing they were in their element.

You sat, scrolling through IG, waiting. It had been a few hours, but these things take time.

You felt your stomach rumble, and you sighed. Perhaps there would be time for a snack while you wait. But you had no cash.

The rumbles grew louder, and that sinking feeling in your stomach grew larger, turning into a sharp pain, making you whimper.

Normally, your period isn't painful, which is why you thought it wasn't your period.

"Y/n?" You heard from in front of you.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't hear them exiting the room.

"Binnie? How'd it go?" You asked, trying your best to smile.

"Fine. But your looking pale, jagi. What's the matter?" Changbin crouched, looking at you.

"Just some stomach pains, is all," You put your hand to your stomach, grinning.

"Need a hug?" He stood, spreading his arms. "They can cure anything!" His joy made you smile, standing to capture him in a warm embrace.

Your stomach died down for a little, but you felt Changbin shift.

"Maybe not everything..." He almost sounds like he was about to laugh, making you turn to see what he was seeing.

Your eyes widened.

Where you once sat was a large red spot, staining the chair, and, most likely, your sweats, making your face flush.

"Oh my god, Bin-" you choked, embarrassed by the sight. "We need to get rid of this chair,"

"How?"

"I don't know!"

"Treat it like a dead body...Let's burn it."

You smiled, knowing he was trying to get you to calm down.

"that's...oddly specific."

He looked at you with a glint in his eye, "Let's go get you some new sweats first."

"We can't leave this here, Bin,"

He thought for a second, before taking off his leather jacket, and, gracefully, placed it over the stain.

"Better?"

Hyunjin:

You and Hyunjin didn't get along, to say the least. Jeonjin was your friend, and when you started hanging with the others, everyone but him seemed to like you.

This didn't upset you, of course, but it was unfortunate because he was hot cute.

Jeonjin, you, Felix and Hyunjin were all at an art museum, looking at his work. You loved seeing his art despite his distaste for you.

His art was real, and it had meaning. It connected with you.

But once that feeling of happiness started, it all came crashing down the moment you felt your cramps. It started. Of course.

You motioned for Felix to come over to you, him obediently leaving mid conversation with some art critiques. Hyunjin was one of them, scoffing at you.

"Felix, I just started, but I don't have a tampon with me. I think there's one in the center console of the car. Could you grab it fo-"

"I'm on it, jagi. I'll text you when I'm back, okay?" Felix didn't wait for a reply, leaving.

He was such a good friend to you, and it nearly made you cry.

You turned, making your way to the restroom, not wanting your period to leak so soon.

"Hey!" You heard, turning. Hyunjin was standing there, a displeased look in his eye. "What'd you say to Felix that made him run out like that? I was talking to him," he complained, not meeting your eye.

"Girl talk," you replied, walking back slowly, trying to reach the door.

"Girl talk?" He looked confused before looking down at your bottoms.

It only occured to you in that moment that you chose to wear white jeans and a white shirt, your ears turning red.

"Oh...girl talk," Hyunjin breathed. He looked back up to your face to see you tearing up.

You expected him to laugh, maybe even shout about it, focusing the attention on you, but his eyes softened, making your blurry eyes close.

"Here-" Hyunjin whispered, pushing you into the bathroom, making his way to a stall with you. "We're at an art show, so maybe...if you..just-" he was stuttering, waving his hands, going to touch you, but stopped mid way.

"What?" You cringe at how little you sound, waiting for him to explain.

"Maybe, smear it around...?" He shrugged, leaving them suspended as he made an interested face.

"You want me...to smear blood...all over my clothes...?" You ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

"Ive always wanted to make art with blood ... I don't know-" he was interrupted by your phone.

Felix had the tampons.

"Hyunjin...Felix is at the door with my things. Definitely not tonight. But maybe, before it ends...you could use my blood if you want to," It makes you confused, saying it out loud, but seeing Hyunjins face light up makes you not doubt it.

"Okay,"

Han:

Lee know was teaching you a dance in the dance room while waiting for the others to show up for practice.

You and Lee know were close, so you spent a lot of time together.

He even knew about your crush on Han, but Han only saw you as a friend. Right? Lee know begged to differ, but he is also a tease.

You, Lee know, Bangchan and Felix were already there.

Your body cramped up a lot, so when your stomach clenched angrily, you brushed it off as being overworked. Continuing, you ignored the pain as best as you could, jumping into the next position.

When Han walked in, he caught sight of you behind Lee know, watching yourself in the mirror, focused on the routine. He admired this about you.

How your hair flopped with your movements, your face scrunched with focus, your neck glistening with sweat. He loved watching your torso, because even though you were a girl, your thrusts compared to his were so masculine, making him feel tiny.

And your ass-! He always felt the need to stair, making him think he spent too much time with Lee know.

He loved that it moved so gently at a fast pace, defining your figure. How the sweats hugged it just right before flaring at the legs. How it was painted red with your-- wait, what?

It was then that he noticed that you were on your period, and leaking. No one else seemed to notice, him being grateful in silence, not wanting to embarrass you.

Without a second thoughts and trying to not make a scene, he ran up behind you, and gave you a hug, pressing himself flush against your back.

"Y/n! I missed you!" Han said, trying to sound normal.

"Han? Come on, I was dancing, man!" You groaned, not truly bothered.

"Hey, I got some news. Wanna hear it?" This caught both yours and Lee knows attention.

"Okay...?" Han never really acted like this with you, so you were a bit confused.

"Well, then I need you to come with me," he whispered. His bag of a change of clothes and water was still slung around his arm.

"What? Why?" You giggled, seeing his expression in the mirror.

He playfully tugged you backwards, making you roll your eyes.

"Just trust me, jagi. Close your eyes, I can't have you looking," Han smiled as you listened, gently leading you backwards into the hall, and to the private restroom.

He finally let you go, telling you to open your eyes.

"Han, what are we doing in here," You asked looking at him for an answer. He looked nervous all of a sudden.

"I made sure no one saw, so before you get embarrassed, it was just me," he explained nervously, digging in his bag.

He pulled out an extra pair of pants, holding them out to you.

"Why are you giving me your pants?" You asked, taking them anyway, looking at them with confusion.

"There's...blood. On your pants. I wasn't sure if you knew-" Han said, fidgeting.

"Oh," was all you could muster before seeing that his face was flushed, his cheeks puffed out.

"Thank you, Han."

"Of course. I'll let you change,"

Felix:

Felix was your best friend. Your partner in crime. Your go-to. He was your everything. And now, you both sat, playing videogames together.

"No!" He yelled, scrambling to get back in the lead.

All you could do was laugh as you continued your pace, besting him. He groaned as you wiggled in your spot, happy to have won.

"Don't get used to it," He grinned at you, making your heart flutter.

He was extremely attractive, and even more so with his black hair. A new color, one you had yet to see on him.

"Watch me," you stuck out your tongue, it being green from your sucker.

He returned the look, his tongue displaying purple, making you laugh.

"Are you hungry? I'm going to make some popcorn," he said, standing from his spot on the floor.

Comfortable and content on his bed, you responded with, "Chips."

He nodded, making a noise of approval before leaving, making you smile. He always took care of you.

When it was time to sleep, you both snuggled on his bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

Your dream was sweet. You worked a cafe bar with your friend, Felix. You were taking an order for some girl before hearing your sunshine call you. And then again. And again.

Now, your eyes open slightly, being Shaked awake gently, Felix calling your name.

"Y/n, you need to wake up," he whispered, not wanting to worry you.

"What's wrong, Lix?" You yawned, suddenly feeling sticky.

"I think...you made a mess..." He looked down at your power half, making you squirm.

Following his gaze, you saw a large patch of blood on the bed, your shorts, and...Felix's shirt.

"ohmygod Felix..." You gasped, now more awake than ever. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shhh..It's okay, jagi, it happens," he tried calming you, seeing you tear up. "Here, I'm going to go run a bath for you, and put the sheets in the wash, okay?" He went to get up, but you caught his wrist.

"What? No, it's my mess. Let me clean it up," you said, trying to sound strong.

"Y/n. Just let me take care you you, okay?" He said, and then a cramp hit you. You gasped lightly.

Almost as if he knew your body, he bent down and placed a soft kiss on your stomach, then left to start the bath.

Seungmin:

You and Seungmin never really talked, but you both often caught the other staring. It wasn't uncommon for the group members to tease you both about it, making you both flush.

Today was one of those days.

"Seungmin, like what you see?" Changbin snickered making the two of you look away.

"Shut up," he grumbled, making his members laugh.

"Awe, come on, Min. You know you like her," Hyunjin giggled, making Seungmins eyes widen.

They continued to bicker, getting a reaction from him. You continued to stay quiet, feeling uncomfortable due to your period cramps.

You had a tampon in, but it felt heavier than usual, making you aware. The boys stood making you stand and followed them. You were at an arcade for the day, courtesy of JYP.

Splitting into teams of three, it was Jeonjin, Hyunjin, and Lee know. Second, Bangchan, Changbin and Han. Third, You, Seungmin and Felix. What could go wrong?

About an hour in, Seungmin noticed your disinterest in the games, starting to worry. You brushed it off, just saying you were tired.

And you were. You lost so much blood, it nearly made you sick.

While he and Felix were shooting at dinosaurs, you felt the wetness between your legs, making you gasp, shuddering.

The guys noticed this, stopping their game.

"Y/n? Is it...?" Felix stopped himself.

Felix was like your brother, and he knew when your period was bothersome, so, you nodded, Felix responding by getting up to leave.

He was going to get another tampon from the car.

Seungmin looked confused, looking at the two of you. Then he saw your face scrunch up in pain.

"Y/n? You okay?"

"I will be," you nod, flashing him a small smile.

He noticed you rubbing your legs together, and as he looked closer, he saw a small patch of blood. It wasn't hugely noticable, but he saw it. He grabbed your hand and led you to a secluded area with barely any people, sitting down in a chair.

Instead of you sitting next to him, however, he placed you on his lap.

"Seungmin!? What are you doing?" You gasped, shocked at his boldness

"Shhh..." He said, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your upper and lower abdomen, making you moan. It really relieved the tension from the cramps, making your mind blur for a few moments.

"Better?" He whispered, watching your face relax.

"mhm,"

I.N.:

As Seungmins sister, you found yourself head over heels with his best friend, Jeonjin.

You and him became close, but not as close as you had hoped.

One day, in the dorms, you were all eating dinner together, but you weren't as hungry as you usually were because of your cramps. No one really noticed other than Jeonjin. He was worried because eating was one of your favorite things to do.

Why aren't you eating?

He saw you using your chopsticks to poke the food around, and that was when he took action.

"Here, jagi. Try it," he said, bring his sticks to your mouth.

You looked at him, and seeing him like this, you couldn't say no. You gently bit the food off his sticks, chewing it happily.

The sight made Jeonjin calmer, seeing you eat.

After dinner, everyone was tired, and forcing themselves to their rooms. It was just you, Jeonjin, Bangchan and Han in the main room.

"Night, everyone," you yawned standing to make your way to you and your brothers shared room.

Everyone exchanged good nights, but as Jeonjin watched you walking in the hall, he saw a large red spot on your bottom, making him call out to you.

"Yeah-?" You looked at him with sleep in your eyes.

"Change your pants,' He whispered as he walked up to you.

"Why?" You yawned again, watching his features soften.

"Because..." He hugged you, but instead of a normal hug, he let his hands brush against your ass, making you gasp.

It was so unlike him.

When he brought his hand back to show you, you saw the red liquid glistening on his hands in the poor hall light.

"Jeonjin-"

"Shh, it's okay. It doesnt bother me," he said wiping it on his own sweats, making you cringe, but in the best way possible.

"Looks like we both gotta change," You giggled.

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jenosbigtoe · 1 year ago

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mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: na jaemin x reader

warnings: daddy kink, loving boyfriend jaem, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex

pussy inspection with jaeminnie!!

you’re so grateful jaemin let you go out with your girl friends tonight! he’s always so possessive of you, always keeping you within arm’s reach so no one can snatch his precious babygirl from him! so you’re so happy when you asked him if you could meet up with your girls at the bar and he actually said yes! so you decided to doll yourself up—pretty pink mini dress, white pumps, and glittery lip gloss. normally, when you dress yourself up all pretty, jaemin gets so possessive over you and glues himself to your side like white on rice. but when jaemin saw what you were wearing tonight, all he did was spin you around to admire your pretty outfit and give you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“be safe, babygirl,” he told you. “call me immediately if anything happens.”

when you come home late that night, you are still so happy and maybe a little tipsy. when you see him, still waiting for you to come home in his pj sweats and muscle tank, you immediately jump into his open arms and wrap your legs around his waist. you pepper kisses all over his face as he chuckles at how cute you are.

“missed-you-so-much,” you say in between kisses. “thank you for letting me go out tonight, daddy.”

you don’t even realize what you just called him. so you miss the way his eyes darken at your words.

“of course, my babygirl. anything for you,” he speaks lowly into your neck. you sigh happily and giggle into his hair.

he carries you to the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed and positions himself between your legs. he begins to help you out of your dress but he lets his hands wander all over your body. he lightly gropes at your plush tits, free from the tight material of your dress. he runs his hands along your body and rubs at your thighs, caressing you ever so gently and sending shivers up your spine.

“jaemin?” you ask, a grin still covering your face. “what are you doing, jaem?”

his hands start to wander south, inching towards your core. he uses one hand to cup your cunt through your panties, his large hand completely covering your aching pussy. “babygirl… i hope you didn’t forget what to do when you go out without daddy.”

his fingers snake into your panties to lightly caress your wettening folds. he uses his fingers to circle around your entrance to gather your juices before spreading them around, teasing your cunt just enough to leave you wanting more. hot pleasure builds in your core as you whine out his name. “d-daddy! please.”

“hm? what was that, babygirl? did you really forget?”

then it hit you. oh. oh. you almost forgot. it had been so long since you’ve gone out without him.

you shake your head slowly. “n-no daddy, i didn’t forget.”

it’s his turn to grin back at you. “good girl. i was hoping i wouldn’t have to punish my babygirl tonight when she had so much fun already. now ass up, princess.”

you turn to face away from him and get on your hands and knees, presenting your cunt to him.

he climbs on the bed from behind you and slowly removes your panties to reveal your glistening cunt, already drooling from his teasing. he licks his lips, eager to get a taste.

jaemin puts his nose almost right into your cunt, almost burying his face in your warm cunt. “need to make sure daddy’s pretty cunt hasn’t been touched without my permission. looks good from what i can see but i still need a closer look,” he says close enough for his breath to tickle your cunt.

you whine and push your ass back against his face, needy for more, but he pulls away before his mouth touches your cunt. “ah. be patient, babygirl, you know the drill. gotta make sure this cunt is still in working order for daddy” he delivers a sharp smack to your cunt, causing you to yelp.

“but-”

“while it doesn’t look like anything has touched my babygirl’s pussy but i will still have to use my fingers to really make sure for myself.”

he uses two fingers to gather the juices leaking from your hole to slowly push them inside of you. you moan at the contact, pussy clenching around his fingers. he pumps his fingers in and out of your hole, curling them up against your sweet spot.

as your pussy creams and leaks around him, he uses your juices to insert another finger into your cunt, pumping them faster and faster inside of your tight hole. you feel your core tighten and cunt spasm erratically around his fingers, like you could snap at any moment.

“d-daddy! m gonna come!” you cry into the mattress below.

jaemin suddenly rips his fingers from your cunt and leaves you clenching around nothing as your impending climax fades away.

“wha- what was that for,” you turn around to glare at him. but before you could utter another word of protest, he shoves his face into your needy cunt, sticking his tongue in your hole and swirling it around to gather up your arousal.

you melt back into the mattress, moaning and crying out needily for more. he uses his tongue to explore your cunt, alternating between licking up and down your folds and swirling his tongue into your clenching hole.

“needed-to-taste,” he says in between kitten licks up your cunt. “my-baby-girl. make-sure-she-still-tastes-right.”

you arch your back and push up against his face, desperate to find the building release you almost experience before. you feel your orgasm prick your peripherals, so close to climax, when he once again pulls away and stops his ministrations on your cunt with a lewd smack.

you could almost cry. “why do you keep stopping?” you whimper.

he licks his lips and hums. “as good as you taste, babygirl, i don’t think this will do. i can’t really reach far enough to really know if my babygirl’s cunt is in working order.”

as you still lay face down ass up for him, he pulls his pants and boxers down just enough for his painfully hard cock to spring out. he doesn’t even need to prep before he shoves his fat cock into your hot wet cunt. you scream at the sudden penetration as he bottoms out with one thrust, his heavy balls pressing up against your clit.

“fuck,” he hisses. “perfect little cunt just for daddy. just as wet and tight and warm as always.”

your cunt clenches tight around his hot shaft, squeezing him for everything he’s got. you’re already so wet that he immediately starts pounding into your cunt with merciless thrusts, shoving his cock as deep as you can take it. lewd sounds of wet skin slapping fill the room, with your whiny moans and his breathless pants.

“d-daddy!” you cry.

jaemin uses one hand to press down on the small of your back, arching it down so he could reach even deeper into your cunt than before. after being on the edge of orgasm for so long, the feeling of his cock hitting so deep inside sends you over your climax. waves of pleasure fill your body, traveling from your core all the way up your spine. your body shakes from the intensity, your cunt squeezing him so tight from clenching so hard. as he fucks your through your orgasm, your dripping pussy becomes overloaded with pleasure.

he tilts his head back and groans, delivering a sharp smack to your ass in approval. “fuck- baby- seems like your cunt is still in perfect working order just for daddy, huh?”

a/n: halfway through writing this, i changed this from jeno x reader to jaemin LMFAO so if you see jeno’s name somewhere in here when it should not be, that’s why 😭 i changed it because halfway through writing this, i realized it wasn’t going in the direction i wanted for jeno and it made more sense for jaemin.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct x reader #nct hard thoughts #jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #jaemin #na jaemin smut

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spicymancer · 1 year ago

Note

So just wanted you to know, "yellow" is a common slur against Asian Americans and so Huang Feng, being a Bruce Lee (whos an Asian man) clone and all could raise some eyebrows to your intentions. And before i get accused of white knighting, i am Asian

Thanks for reaching out! This is honestly something that might be important to discuss and I appreciate your attempt at broaching the subject delicately. More after the jump.

So to start. I am also Asian. Specifically Chinese American.

As an American born Chinese, I have a weird relationship with my Asian heritage. I have a bad accent when I speak Chinese and most of my upbringing and cultural understanding is very American and western-centric. So I have certain biases at play here that I fully acknowledge. My experience is not universal. But these characters are drawn from that experience.

Huang Feng is a reference to Bruce Lee's performance as Kato in the Green Hornet. Dà Huángfēng being a Chinese term for a hornet.

The character is also narratively implied to be a secret moonlighting identity for the Yellow Ranger in my made-up sentai team. (Who, due to my own decision to always refer to the characters by their Ranger color, is literally just called Yellow by the other members of the cast.)

This is also a reference. Specifically to one of my greatest inspirations, Thuy Trang (Rest in Peace), who played the original Mighty Morphin Yellow Ranger. She was one of the first "Cool Asian Characters" that I encountered in media targeted at me as a child, problematic color choice aside. I sincerely adored her and her giant robot Saber-Toothed Tiger.

To be honest I have a complicated relationship with "Asian Themed" characters in media. So often saddled with cliché stereotypes: Martial Arts, dumplings, nunchucks, etc etc.

But the thing is, even as I roll my eyes whenever I see the Fighting Game character that is The Chinese One who wears a rice hat and a qipao. Or when one is literally just Bruce Lee. I do also immediately main that character. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure. Taking what representation I can get with mixed feelings. Similar to my enjoyment of sexy anime girl art even though it's all rooted in pretty uncomfortable sexist and objectifying aesthetics. A lot of my work comes from a place of exploring my own sexuality/identity. These characters are, partly, my own attempt to explore Asian themes and ideas for myself.

I would love to say that I'm trying to "reclaim" the term or something but I'm just some internet artist drawing cute anime girls and monster smut. For me, playing with these clichés is just another way of being self-indulgent.

Not really defending these creative choices so much as explaining my perspective on them. I totally understand if all this turns folks off! I fully respect those who don't vibe with my work and wish them all the best. It's a big internet and I'm sure they can find something super great to enjoy elsewhere!

Anyway, sorry for the long rambly post. Despite the fact that I'm posting this on Tumblr, I am not super mentally equipped to engage in Discourse, so forgive me if I don't respond to the tags on this.

So I'll just leave y'all with a neat article by Kat Chow discussing the history and usage of the color Yellow in regards to Asian Identity.

#oc questions #discourse cw #I love and appreciate all of you

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dinosaurwithablog · 5 months ago

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Puerto Rican 🇵🇷 peasant food is the best food in the world, in my opinion. My grandma grew up in Puerto Rico. The family was very poor so they learned to take humble ingredients and transform them into a delightful and delectable dish. The red kidney beans were made by making a sofrito of onions, green peppers, garlic, tomato paste, salt, and pepper. You then add the beans that have been soaking in water overnight to the sofrito. After adjusting the seasoning, the beans cook on low heat until they are tender. You serve them over white rice. This dish is sooooooo delicious that I would choose it over steak and lobster any day. Puerto Rican 🇵🇷 peasant food is spectacular. These beans taste so good that I don't even miss the meat. They are high in protein. It's a very healthy and nutritious meal. It is inexpensive and it's fantastic. I, highly, recommend learning to make great rice and beans. I'm gonna have another bowl. Mmmmmmmm ❤️ 😍😋😋 thems good eats 😉😋

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sonotpattismith · 5 months ago

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we hereby conduct this postmortem. (yuta okkotsu x reader)

WARNING: MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS BELOW

word count: 7.8k (oops) warnings: angst, mentions of death, mourning, smut, Yuta in Gojo’s body, manga spoilers 18+ summary: reader attempts to cope with Yuta’s new body, mourning the loss of his previous one a/n: Hi!!! No one really requested this but Yuta is my man fr and this idea has been heavy on my heart 😮‍💨 Yuta is aged up in this as it made more sense for the point in their relationship they were already in. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I loved making it!

Life as a sorcerer was one littered with pain, fleeting hope, loss, and regret. These pitiful factors could practically be named the pillars of the damned lifestyle. You knew what you were getting into right when you joined, and you were reminded of it as your love held you close to his chest, his large hands secured over your head as if to cement you into his memory. Yuta pulled back just a hair, still clutching your head between his hands to look at you, fingers digging into your scalp gently as his long eyes fluttered around your face.

Through the haze of your tears, he appeared blurred. Still, you could make out the inescapable expression of fear that clutched his features. It wasn’t the battle he feared— far from it. He felt as though he could slash through an army at the moment. What gripped his mind and soul so fiercely though, was the thought of leaving you behind. His warm, dark eyes regarded you with care, taking in the way you clutched at his white shirt as if willing him not to go. It broke his heart.

“Everything’s going to be alright, my love.” Yuta assured gently, trying to keep his trembling voice leveled. He was well aware of the countless sorcerers surrounding them, allowing them the privacy of their intimate moment. They pretended not to watch— not to listen, but their hearts were collectively breaking for the pair before them. “It’ll be over before we know. We’ll go home. I’ll cook you something nice— maybe not burn it this time, huh?”

A laugh escaped you despite your tear soaked face. He smiled softly at the sound. The pads of his thumbs reached out to swipe the surface area of your cheeks before pulling you in softly. Your eyes closed as he placed a soft kiss to one eye, moving to the other and doing the same.

“I want the special rice—” you choked out, attempting to pull yourself together for him. Reaching out to run your fingers gently through the end of his hair, you clarified. “The one you had in Kenya.”

“Yeah? The pilau?”

You nodded softly and forced a smile. He laughed breathily at your reply and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Okkotsu?” Their peer that called out to him sounded apologetic to be interrupting the delicate moment, but, then again, there was a war to be won.

Without tearing his gaze from yours, he nodded in understanding. Leaning down with a certain determination in his energy, Yuta captured your lips in his. It was powerful, rough— desperate. His looming figure hunched over you, as if attempting to swallow you whole. Perhaps you would have been happier if he had.

It was the last time your lips felt those of Yuta Okkotsu.

You had been sent out as support, patrolling the area. Realistically, you knew there wasn’t much that you could contribute. While you served as a perfectly decent sorcerer— your techniques were nothing to be put up against the horrors that lied beyond the culling games. It was mainly a distraction. Your peers didn’t want you to watch the fight. They didn’t want your eyes to have to bear witness should your lover be slain that night.

For a few hours, you would get updates from them. First, it was that Kenjaku was dead. A silent tear slipped down your cheek, but you quickly swiped it away as you thanked them for telling you. It was a victory— one of astronomical proportions, but the fight was far from over. After the second hour with no update— a small part of you already knew. After twenty more minutes of radio silence, you forced yourself to go back inside, despite the fear raging in you of what you may find.

As you entered silently, all heads snapped toward you. You knew. Without a word, you made your way back to where Shoko had set up her make-shift infirmary. It ended up being Kusakabe that called out to you— subtle warning in his tone. As if motivated by his attempted persuasion, a few more of your peers began to step forward, but, before they could reach you, you slipped into the dimly lit hallway. Yuta’s katana was leaning up against the wall beside the infirmary, unsheathed and bloodied. Through the sound of the blood rushing through your ears, you faintly heard a commotion stirring from outside the hall. Your mind was miles away from the beloved friends and colleagues gathered just outside though. Your fingers delicately grazed the hilt of his precious katana, wondering if they had to pry it from his stiff fingers.

One more step. It was terrifying— the sense of impending doom that echoed within the chasms of your mind. Just beyond this door frame, it would no longer be a fleeting ghost story whispered between two lovers— a worst case scenario— a horrifying ‘what if’ that was consistently followed by reassuring kisses and desperate love making. The shouting behind you was growing louder now, rushed footsteps pounding down the hall, screams of your name to not go in there, you don’t need to see it.

You took the final step. The healer stood in the middle of the room and seemed to be busying herself with cleaning. She was cleaning a body. Its mid section was cut off from your vision by her somewhat tense figure. Still, laid unceremoniously at the end of the steel stretcher, the unmistakable locks of dark hair your fingers had been buried in just hours prior. As if sensing your presence, Shoko shifted to see who had been watching her work. Her movements faltered when seeing the face of the stiff corpse’s lover. It was too late though, no matter how quickly she tried to adjust her position once again, the image had been burned into your mind— branded.

The body of Yuta Okkotsu lay bare on the examining table— or what was left of his body. It had been mutilated; your beautiful love’s temple disgustingly desecrated. The cavity of his chest was practically split open, slashes running down his once gorgeously cream skin. Even worse though— his head. It was split down his forehead. His paler than usual head was turned just fractionally toward the door. Your lover stared back at you, eyes unmoving, unloving, gone.

There was blood in your mouth. The iron tinging your taste buds was the only way you realized the visceral shriek that emitted from deep within your gut. Your realization didn’t stop you though, and neither did the pain in your throat as you ripped it to shreds once again, knees buckling underneath of you.

“Yuta!” You sobbed, voice eviscerated raw already. The hurried footsteps from outside seemed to finally reach you and, before you could process what was happening, there were hands everywhere. They were on your shoulders, at your elbows, over your eyes— doing anything to attempt to shield you from the sight before you, which you assumed they never intended for you to see in the first place. It was overwhelming: the attempted, hushed coos of comfort that all merged together to sound like the humming of angered bees just waiting to strike at you; the varying grips all pulling you in separate directions, all with the intent to just get you out of that room. Still, despite their efforts, through the gaps of their fingers and shoulders, Yuta’s dead eyes still stared hauntingly back at you.

Pushing against them all with a newfound strength, you fell against the unforgiving floor on your hands and knees, determined to reach him.

“Please, he wouldn’t want you to see him like this.” Kamo attempted to get through to you, his hand once again reaching for your shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” Your wavering, sliced whisper caused his motions to falter for a moment before reaching out anyway. Another sob was ripped from your mouth at the feeling of hands everywhere again. “Please, please, I just need to hold him. Please. Let me hold him.”

“I told you all to make sure she didn’t come in here.” The commanding voice that spoke up had all five or six desperate individuals looking toward the door. Had you been more present in the moment, you would have recognized the voice. With your peers distracted, you crawled forward once again.

“My love,” The term of endearment reached your ears, making you pause. Wide eyes staring at Yuta’s still lips, you gaped silently. Shoko suddenly moved to cover his body with a sheet she’d retrieved, breaking you from your haze. Reaching out with trembling hands, you attempted to fist the sheet between your fingers. “Please, don’t do that.”

The individuals whose hands had been grappling with you just moments prior released you all together, before another set of firm, purposeful arms slid around your midsection. In mere seconds, you were being hauled up off the floor. For a moment, you were suspended mid air by unfamiliar arms. You thrashed around furiously until they set you down on your feet once again, and you turned to smack whoever it was that was still holding you back.

When the eyes of Satoru Gojo met yours— your movements faltered. A phantom, right before your very eyes. He was real though, you could see his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths, and the warmth radiating from his arms that were still wrapped uncharacteristically around you.

“Gojo—” It was all too much, as you tried to make sense of the scene before you, all the while in the midst of mourning— or attempting to come to grips with the fact that you should be mourning. You suddenly felt as though you might pass out. Steadying a hand on the firm chest before you, your face began to pale a bit. “How are you— what’s—”

Your words failed you though— and so did your body. Satoru leaned down quickly just as you began to slip away. It was too intimate— the way he was looking into your eyes, and the manner in which he held you to his chest. You wanted to push him away, but you felt weak. The snowy whisps of his white hair swayed as he scooped you up and brushed the hair from your forehead. You flinched away from him. As you looked up incredulously at him to question his inappropriate behavior, your eyes caught the scar running along his forehead.

“Everything is okay,” he murmured, but the voice wasn’t comforting, it was confusing as it fell upon your ringing ears. “I’m here, my love.”

The term snapped you from your chance, the murmuring and shuffling around the two of you coming at you in full force as if you’d just come up from underwater. Staring unblinkingly at the man before you, you watched as his piercing, blue eyes drooped softly and uncharacteristically into a haunting stare that was so unmistakably—

“Yuta?”

Following the closure of the grueling culling games, most sorcerers were granted substantial time to rest, and both you and Go— Yuta, were unarguably granted as well. After what you’d seen, what Yuta had subjected himself to for the sake of everyone’s safety, there was a quiet understanding that the pair needed time to adjust to one another again— to heal. As you walked into your shared apartment with the unfamiliar body behind you though, you couldn’t help but gulp down the lump in your throat.

Relieved wasn’t the sufficient word to use to describe how you felt upon learning Yuta was still alive. Granted, he was certainly alive in a very different way than he had been previously— but his soul was still with you. He was still there. Still, the anxiety and grief was eating you alive. You had seen his corpse, seen his lifeless eyes staring back at you. Yet you were still expected to latch onto him once again, resume your bond as if it hadn’t already been irreparably changed. It made you feel selfish— being so uncomfortable by the means by which he remained alive. You wouldn’t say it to him, not after all that he’d been through and the selfless way he sacrificed so much for his peers.

The door of your shared apartment shut behind you. A soft sigh of relief left you. When you last exited this familiar apartment, the two of you were unsure if you’d ever return to it again. A lone tear slipped down your cheek as Yuta set his katana against the wall and came up to grasp at your shoulders. His grip was firm— firmer than you ever remember it being. Feeling the tension in your muscles, he rubbed soft circles into them.

“You want me to start a shower for you, love?” He offered in that unfamiliar voice, his cheek grazing yours as he leaned down to meet your ear. Unable to speak, you simply nodded. With a soft kiss against your temple, he made his way down the hall and disappeared into your shared bathroom. The distance eased some of the pressure building in your chest, and you leaned back to rest against the wall.

How could this ever go back to normal? Gojo was a man who had watched your love grow together from the moment the both of you were introduced as mere teenagers. He’d given a horribly anxious Yuta advice on how to talk to you, given him money to take you on a nice first date before the boy had received his first stipend from the school. And now— now you were expected to live with him, to wake up to him every morning, make love to him. He wasn’t a stranger, but in a sense of closeness and intimacy, your body saw him as just that.

With a shaky sigh, you pushed off of the wall when you heard the shower running. Entering the bathroom with your towel folded over your arms, the steam from the shower enveloped you like a warm blanket. It invited you to wash away all the atrocities you’d faced in the past weeks. You placed your towel on the sink, but your pre-shower routine was cut short when you felt fingers grasping at the hem of your shirt to pull it up. A startled gasp escaped you, and you whipped around to face Yuta. He abruptly halted his attempts to undress you, staring at you with wide eyes. Much to your mortification, he was naked.

“Oh—” You stuttered out, staring up at the ceiling, at the wall behind him, anywhere but him. “Sorry. You— you can shower first.”

Yuta stopped you with a soft hand on your wrist as you moved to exit the bathroom. You were stiff before him, flinching away just barely noticeable as your arm made contact with his bare chest.

“Hey,” he said softly with a chuckle. It sounded a bit forced though— he sounded scared. “It’s just me, love. You can— you can look at me.”

Your head was still turned away from him as he pulled you closer against the stranger’s body, leaning down to press a delicate kiss against your cheek. Your eyes drifted and were met with your reflection in the mirror, wrapped up in the arms of Satoru Gojo. Following your gaze, his icy blue eyes met yours in the reflection. As if recognizing the apprehension in your expression, his face dropped a bit. Your heart clenched guiltily.

“S’okay,” Yuta attempted a nonchalant laugh, his strong arms loosening their grip on you. He gulped down the nausea that began to stir within him along with the pang of rejection. “Umm… I’ll be out in a minute. Why don’t you pick out a movie for us to watch, yeah? We’ve probably missed out on a bunch.”

With a soft nod and forced smile, you couldn’t have exited that small bathroom quick enough.

Time. You just needed some time.

Following your own, mind numbingly relaxing shower, you made sure to dry off and dress in the safe confines of the bathroom. You smiled softly at the feeling of the fluffy rug against your toes as you stepped into your very missed room. Yuta was already under the covers, remote in hand as he read the description of the movie you’d picked out. He was chewing absentmindedly at his bottom lip, a habit you’d never seen Gojo partake in before. It made you smile softly— something that was uniquely Yuta still shining through. His gaze snapped toward you while you stood hesitantly on the side of the bed. Smiling warmly, he opened up the blanket on your side of the bed in invitation, a faint glimmer of hope sparkling in his blue eyes.

“Yu, this shirt is…” Your comment drifted as you fingered at the tshirt spread too tightly across his broad chest. It clung to his bulging arms unnaturally, straining against the muscles.

A blush painted his pale cheeks, and you were once again put off by seeing the innocent expression on the face before you. He smiled sheepishly, looking down at himself.

“I know. None of my stuff really fits me anymore.” He explained bashfully, reaching up to scratch his head awkwardly. “Guess that means we can go shopping, and you can pick out all my clothes like you always wanted to, huh?”

You giggled softly at the idea. Truthfully, you were grateful he’d put the shirt on despite its tight fit. For the past few days, he didn’t even smell like himself anymore. But now, as you timidly shuffled closer to him and buried your head into his chest, you were able to inhale the lingering scent left behind by his previous body. It was the only thing keeping you huddled closely to his new one that night.

You dreamt of him that night— the old him. He was wrapped around you, his grip merciless as he clung onto you, as if you might float away. When you turned to look at him, the sight of his big, warm, puppy dog eyes filled your chest with butterflies. You recognized the scene, it was the first time you’d tended to him following a mission. Both of you unaware of the other’s feelings, timid in the way you brushed against one another, hyper aware of every breath and stare. As you dapped the alcohol-soaked cotton against his cheek, his shaky hands came up to grip innocently onto your waist. In truth, though you teased him relentlessly for it, he really just didn’t know what to do with his hands in the moment. When he saw the way your face burned under his touch, something had shifted between you— an understanding.

Your head burrowed deeper into the pillow below you as you were pulled from your slumber by the heavy hole in your chest. The arm strewn across your waist tighter around you, drawing you closer as he hummed. You smiled softly at the sound of him awakening. Shifting to catch a glimpse of those warm eyes that had just been plaguing your dreams, you were ripped from your trance. A startled yelp escaped you, sending you flying to the other end of the bed at the sight of the electric blue eyes staring back at you. In response, Yuta jumped out of bed with a start, staring at you in bewilderment.

“I— I’m sorry,” you cried breathlessly, not even feeling it when tears began to fall down your face. It was as if you could hear his heart break as he watched you. Running a trembling hand across your damp face, you attempted to calm your breathing. “I’m sorry, Yuta. It’s not your fault, I just—”

“You need time.” He finished softly for you.

For the following weeks, Yuta slept on the couch of your shared living room. It made you feel awful, coming out every morning to see him twisted uncomfortably on the furniture that was far too small to hold him in this form. You insisted that it should be you sleeping on it, given it was you who was so startled by the arrangement, but he refused to even hear of it. He said he’s always found the couch comfortable, but you knew that was about four inches and fifty pounds of muscle ago.

With the guilt knawing away at you, you made every effort to adjust to the dramatic change. The two of you watched your usual television shows on the couch together every night before he’d give you a longing goodnight kiss on the cheek and forehead. He never pushed you for more. You had just begun feeling somewhat comfortable enough to press quick, timid kisses on his lips every now and again, and he relished in each and every one of them like a man starved. It was evident in the way his eyes remained close and his lips chased yours each time you’d pull away.

He really did mean it when he said he wanted you to go shopping with him. After one too many ripped pants and boxer briefs in the trash, you insisted it be sooner rather than later. His wispy hair did a good enough job concealing the fading scar across his forehead while you two stepped out in public for the first time again. Being out of the stuffy apartment helped to ease the underlying tension that had grown between you. Yuta was making you laugh, charming you with his sheepish jokes and shy charisma— the type only he could pull off. It was good for you. You two walked from store to store, and you felt his pinky finger graze hesitantly against yours.

Looking up at him, you found his blue orbs already focused on you. They were wide, hopeful— asking for permission. Smiling softly at him, you silently carded your hand into his large one. It felt foreign, but the wide, excited smile that he tried to conceal seemed to mask any apprehension that bubbled within you. For the remainder of the day, Yuta walked with more confidence in his stride, pulling you giddily along with him wherever his attention drew him to.

It was a much needed break from the awkward push and pull you two had found yourselves in. So, when you returned to the apartment that night, you were almost scared to break that bubble. The two of you fell into your new routine, regarding each other friendly, showering separately. You were just gathering your things when he emerged from the bathroom, a towel hung loosely around his waist. Quickly averting your gaze, you muttered an apology as you attempted to step past him.

“Hey,” he called softly, stepping to the side to block you from entering the restroom. You felt his fingers clutch your chin and turn you to face him. His platinum hair clung to his face, droplets of water spilling onto his chiseled face. A blush rose to your cheeks at the sight. An amused smile fell easily on his lips. “You haven’t blushed like this looking at me since we were in high school.”

Your brows furrowed at his words, envious on the way he seemed to be unable to find the insanity of the situation. His damp hand ran down the side of your neck, creeping over your shoulder and arm until he grasped one of your hands in his. His intense gaze stayed focused on you as he brought your hand up to place on his chest, softly running it down his abdomen.

“I want you to… be comfortable with me again. Be able to look at me again.” He mumbled, his chest beginning to rise and fall more dramatically at the sensation of your hands exploring him once again. You gulped, your fingers catching on the scar that circled all the way across his stomach, sides, and back. It made you tear away from your hesitation, finally allowing yourself to look down at his sculpted body. You circled your finger tentatively around the jagged scar, your other hand creeping up to test the waters in feeling the wet ripples of his abs. Yuta seemed to tremble under your touch, a soft moan falling from his lips at the sensation. It snapped you from your haze. It felt wrong, hearing Gojo’s voice like this, thinking of his body in such a way. You withdrew your hands from him.

“Time.” you quickly reminded him, refocusing your gaze on his face again. His lips were parted, eyes half lidded but blown out with a lustful haze. You darted past him and into the bathroom, hearing him repeat it breathlessly as you closed the door.

“Time.”

You were still a bit shaken up when you exited your shower, pacing the room pensively as you clung to your towel. Looking around, you noticed the small, discarded pile of Yuta’s old shirts that he’d likely just removed from his drawers to make room for his new ones. You smiled fondly at the sight. Picking one up, you brought it up to your face and inhaled deeply. Though evidently fading, his smell still clung to it. It was faint though, so faint that it made your eyes water as you clutched desperately at the material. He was slipping away, every part of him, and all you could do was watch as each bit was replaced. Shoving the discarded shirts into your own drawer for safe keeping, you shed your towel and slipped one over your head before climbing into bed, relishing in the soft, familiar smell that graced your senses.

After a moment or so, there was a gentle knock at the door. Yuta poked his head in and smiled hesitantly at you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greeted softly, stepping fully into the dim room. “I just… I wanted to say goodnight to you. You okay?”

You nodded with a sad smile, blinking rapidly to stop more tears from manifesting in your traitorous eyes. Humming softly, he sat on the edge of the bed and grasped your head between his large hands before leaning in to press a gentle kiss against each eye.

“Goodnight, my love. I love you always.”

You couldn’t stop the silent sob that wracked your body as he turned to return to the living room for the night. It was pathetic, the way you continued to mourn for the man sat just outside your grasp. Just moments ago, you stood in tears, willing him not to slip away, yet you were allowing just that.

“Yuta?” Your meek voice made him turn around in question. “Can you… can you come to bed?”

His face lit up the dark room, moonlight illuminating the way his blue eyes seemed to spark at your request.

“Y-Yes, yeah!” He stammered out, looking around eagerly. The man seemed to trip over his own legs as he made his way to the door, holding a reaffirming hand out in front of him. “Hold on, I’m gonna grab my pillows— don’t move!”

Even through your tears, you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he still didn’t seem to have full control over his new body yet— at least not when he was buzzing with the excitement of a teenage boy. Just seconds later, he barreled back into the room, slamming the door behind him and eagerly jumping into his side of the bed. The both of you giggled at the way the bed creaked under his sudden weight. As the laughter subsided, he stared breathlessly at you, eyes gleaming.

“Do you think it’d be okay if I held you tonight?”

Your lips began to tremble at the pained vulnerability in his timid request. Without answering, you scooted closer to him, and he quickly opened his arms for you to tuck yourself against his chest. His chest heaved with a sigh of relief at the feeling of holding you close again. All too soon, he felt his eyes begin to droop despite his burning desire to stay awake and just be with you for a little longer. You were both fast asleep within seconds.

With his old shirt and scent wrapped around your frame, your subconscious couldn’t help but manifest him just as it had remembered him. Again, it was a familiar scene— the night before you two left your apartment for the final time. Before— what happened to him. His dark hair hung lazily over his face as he desperately grinded into you. A gasp over took you at the feeling of him entering you. Your fingernails raked mercilessly across his chest, squeezing the firm slab of muscle there. Yuta whined at the soft stinging that accompanied this action, but it only spurred him on. He wanted to mold himself to you, become one with your body. You helplessly moaned out his name.

Back in reality, beside you, Yuta was stirred from his own peaceful slumber by your shallow, whiny breaths. Your body practically trembled against him, your fingers grasping at the arm that circled your waist.

“Yuta.” Your soft moan filled his ears, making all the blood in his body rush down to the uncharted territory below his waistband. The manner in which you writhed desperately against him did nothing to calm the storm brewing in his pants. Gulping roughly, he allowed his hand to wander from your thigh up to your side, slipping under the thin fabric of your shirt— his shirt. It was the only thing donned on that trembling body of yours save for your underwear. You looked ethereal with the barely risen, morning sun kissing at your supple skin. Leaning down, he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, dragging his lips down to peck and lap aimlessly at your neck. You arched into him, rousing from your sleep with a gentle moan of his name.

“Yeah?” The man mumbled against the back of your neck, gently rutting into your ass from behind you. The wandering hand that had slipped up your shirt grazed over the lush skin of your breast before squeezing it gently between his fingers. A whimper fell from your lips. “Let me take care of you, my love, hm?”

You could only nod breathlessly, and, in an instant, he disappeared under the covers, eagerly shifting you onto your back. Typically, Yuta was a soft, gentle lover— slow in his care for your body. He loved taking his time with you, savoring each sound he could pull from you with each inch of skin he explored. Now though, as he found himself face to face with one of his favorite parts of you for the first time in weeks, he had no patience.

Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he shoved his face into your clothed core. A high strung moan ripped up your chest and out your throat as he mouthed lazily over you for a while, wetting the already damp fabric with his drool. Getting tired of the damned barrier, he wanted to taste you for real. In hasty motions, he ripped your underwear down your legs before settling against his breakfast once again.

“Yuta!” You gasped, face reddening with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. He moaned against you at the sound of his name falling from your lips again. His hips involuntarily rutted against the mattress, but he stopped himself. This was about you.

Your fingers trembled, making their way under the sheets to grip his hair firmly. His head swayed side to side as he ravished you, drinking up everything you were willing to give him. Your hips bucked up to grind against his face, making the sheet fall down his back. Looking down, you were met with the sight of Satoru Gojo between your legs, lapping lewdly at your sensitive core as if it gave him life itself, as if it made the sun and the moon and brought all the stars to the night sky.

His eyes opened upon feeling your gaze on him. Those piercing blue eyes that you were becoming so accustomed to regarded you with a deep lust, a carnal desire that had your release creeping up your toes, into your legs and torso, to the very center of your mind.

No, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t come undone like this. It was so wrong, and you felt as though some part of you was betraying Yuta, despite the fact that he was the very man currently worshiping you with his tongue. You partly wondered if he knew what was going through your head right now, watching as his brows suddenly furrowed and his grip on your thighs tightened with a newfound determination. With a harsh, loud suck to your clit, his gaze demanded to be met as you tipped over the edge. Your back arched up with a deafening cry, all the while Yuta’s lips hungrily laid open mouthed kissed against your core as you came down. He caught your clit gently between his lips, pulling at it a fraction before releasing it.

You were gasping for breath, trying to catch yourself before you passed out in an overwhelmed haze. Yuta licked a final, loving stripe up your folds before peppering kisses up your trembling body. Sliding a hand under the arch of your back, he abruptly sat you up with a strength unfamiliar to you. You landed atop his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck to catch yourself before you fell back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whimpered, capturing your lips against his desperately. They were still wet from their assault against you. Between rushed kisses, he gasped out against your lips. “So beautiful, my love. You’re everything to me.”

You moaned against him at the sound of his familiar praises, pressing your chest against his. He broke from you for barely a millisecond, tossing his shirt over his head before grappling for you once again. His hands found their natural place on your waist, gripping firmly as he brought you down to grind against his straining manhood. Gasping at the sensation of your folds sliding against his thick length, you reached up to grasp at the ends of his hair as you always did. It hit you then, as your fingers grazed the slowly growing hairs of an undercut, that you were about to make love to someone else. Breaking from him with a gasp, you looked at the man before you. His eyes were practically glowing, drinking you in in a manner that told you his thoughts were positively filthy at the present. Closing them once again, he chased your lips with a determined hand against your jaw. You flinched away. Slowly opening his eyes again, he watched in horror as you climbed off of his lap and stood from the bed, looking around for a pair of shorts.

“W-Wait!” Yuta gaped, practically tripping over himself to follow you out of the bedroom.

You pretended not to hear the desperate confusion in his tone, pretended it didn’t squeeze at your chest with guilt. Opening the fridge, you busied yourself grabbing ingredients to make you two a quick breakfast. He called out your name softly, dejected. Bracing yourself, you glanced back at him. His massive frame was hunched in on itself, and his eyes looked so hurt you could practically shoot yourself in the foot for being the cause of it.

“What are you doing?” Yuta breathed quietly, watching as you spread all the ingredients onto the counter.

“I’m making omelets. You want cheese on yours?” You asked over your shoulder, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet for mixing.

“What? No, I—” He could feel the irritation rising in his chest, and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. Stepping closer so he was right behind you, he grasped your wrist softly to halt your rushed movements. “Baby, I miss you.”

“I’m right here, Yu.” You whispered, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. You heard him sigh in frustration at your response.

“No, love,” he pleaded, grasping your hips to press you roughly against the ever present bulge in his sweatpants. Releasing a shaky breath, he snaked a hand across your collarbone before lining it with hot kisses. “I miss you.”

“Yuta,” you protested, slipping away from his grasp. “I’m sorry, I just need—”

“Time?” He cried out, tears welling up in his sad, wide eyes. “You can take all of my time— have all of it! But please just— please look me in the eyes and tell me I’ll still get you back at the end of it.”

“I’m trying!” You sobbed, smacking at his bare chest. He took it all without so much as a flinch. “I’m trying but every time I look at you all I can see is—”

“I’m not Gojo! I’m right here, I’m me. Look at me!”

“Well I don’t recognize you anymore, Yuta!”

His response got caught in his throat. Those glittering blue, six eyes watched as you fell to the floor, clutching your hands to your face. Gentle sobs shook your frame as you curled in on yourself. Yuta stood before you, unsure if touching you would be helpful or not right now.

“I saw your body, Yuta. Your head was split open. Your eyes were lifeless! I accepted that you were dead!” You felt a hesitant hand come down on your back. He slowly sat beside you on the floor. “And then you come back, and you have a new face, a new voice, you even smell different. You’re bigger and you’re stronger, and you’re not my Yuta anymore, okay? You wanted everything to go back to normal but it’s not.”

“I just… I don’t see Yuta anymore.”

Both of you agreed that you needed some time apart that day. Yuta insisted that you be the one to stay home, but you convinced him that you needed time outside of the apartment.

You found yourself in front of Shoko, who regarded you with surprise at your sudden request.

“I want to see his body.”

She blinked a few times at you, slowly. Not even Yuta himself had bothered asking what it was that they did with his body. When he came to, the only thing that was on his mind was the overwhelming relief that he’d be able to come back to you. As the healer looked over your bloodshot eyes, and the dried tears on your face as you clutched at the old t-shirt covering you, she understood what you really needed.

You blinked down at the simple grave before you. It was large, marbled and domed. It had Gojo’s name on it.

“Is this some sort of joke?” You asked breathily, your brows furrowing in anger. A fiery glare was shot in the direction of the woman standing beside you. “Where is his body?”

“Right in front of you.”

“Then why isn’t his name on here?”

“Because Yuta Okkotsu isn’t dead.” Shoko stated flatly, eyes steady on you. “Satoru Gojo is.”

The words sank into your soul as you slowly looked back up at the name etched onto the grave. It was the name of the man you were sure you had been betraying your lover with for a month. Yuta— his former body rested here, but no one mourned for him here. No, this is where they came to mourn Satoru Gojo. You were the only one who had ever mourned for Yuta.

“Satoru Gojo is dead, and the man waiting for you at home loves you— no matter the flesh that wraps his soul.”

You cried the whole way home, but, this time, your tears weren’t being shed in mourning. Rather, they fell down your face in hot streams of guilt. Yuta had been so understanding, so patient with you. He had gone through so much, lost his body, lost his mentor, his friend. The only thing he asked in return was to live the rest of his life with you once again— and you couldn’t look past the flesh attached to his kind heart.

Slowly creaking open the door of your apartment, there was music flowing softly through the air of your shared apartment. Over the rhythm, you could hear the clashing of pots and the clinking of utensils. There was a faint smell of smoke filling the room as well. Shutting the door behind you, you cautiously made your way to the kitchen, gaze melting at the scene before you.

There was an apron tied haphazardly around Yuta’s waist. It was too small on him— straining against his broad, muscular chest. The smell of smoke seemed to be coming from the large pot that was practically vibrating on the stovetop, angrily hissing at the chef, who was too distracted trying to set a pair of plates and cutlery neatly on the small dining table. He was cursing under his breath, white eyebrows pulled up and together in a concerned, puppy-dog like stare. You giggled from behind your hand. His head shot up at the sound.

“No, babe— gah!” Your lover was cut off as he tried to grab the lid off the top of the smoking pot before abruptly dropping it, seemingly burned from its hot surface. It clattered against the stove noisily. “You weren’t supposed to be home yet— shit!”

He paced the length of the kitchen, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet as he ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. The mannerisms— they were so undeniably Yuta Okkotsu. Smiling fondly, you stepped forward to turn the stove off, making him grumble in disapproval.

“I-I was trying to make us pilau.” He pouted, those wide, puppy dog eyes taking in the sight of you. Despite the commotion you had walked into, he was relieved that you came back to him.

“Yeah?” You questioned with an amused smile, reaching behind him to untie the apron from his back and pulling it over his head. Your hands replaced the ties around his neck, pulling him down toward you. It was gonna take you a while to adjust to this sudden, more exaggerated height difference. “What happened to you not burning it this time?”

The pale skin of his neck and cheeks flushed under your intense gaze, making him chuckle nervously. It was evident in the tentative manner he slid his hands around your waist that he was unsure of what you’d be comfortable with.

“Are you gonna come down here, or are you gonna make you climb all six feet of you?”

His Adam’s Apple bobbed against his taut neck, a boyish grin spreading across his lips as he shook his head.

“I have a better idea.”

In one quick motion, he squatted down to grab the backs of your thighs and toss them high around his waist. You gasped at the abrupt motion, clinging around his chest like a spider monkey. He wasn’t even holding onto you as he began walking the both of you to your room. No, his hands were instead grasped on the sides of your head, pulling you into him for a desperate kiss. Shutting the door behind him with his foot, he turned to sit on the edge of the bed, your comparably smaller frame still attached to him.

You fell slowly into his lap, biting at his lips with an unanticipated fervor. Your hands grazed under the hem of his shirt, palms freely exploring the planes of his chest and shoulders. He whimpered under your delicate touch, breaking away from you only to allow you to pull the fabric off of him. Pushing back on his firm shoulders, he fell back against the bed with a huff, watching with bated breath as you kissed each inch of new skin you were presented with. You wanted to commit him to memory— learn the new ways to make him gasp and whimper in that way only Yuta could pull off. As you traversed down his abdomen, he reached down and yanked the hem of your loose shirt over your head, groaning at the sight of your bare chest that he’d missed so much.

Just as your lips grazed the hem of his sweatpants, he sat up abruptly to stop you.

“No, I can’t— I just need you right now.” He rasped, grasping at your waist to toss you down onto the bed.

“Jesus, Yu!” You gasped as your body bounced with the impact. He grinned sheepishly at you as he stumbled out of his sweats before crawling over your body.

“I’m sorry… not used to it yet.” He apologized before grazing his hand over your clothed core, sighing pathetically at the wetness that met his digits. Your teeth were clashing together as the two of you sloppily kissed each other— a bundle of gasps and moans. He molded himself against you as he dragged your soiled panties down your legs before standing up to remove his boxers. You tried not to stare— you really did. The last thing you wanted him to think was that you found his previous parts insufficient. Lord help you though, because— now? Yuta was massive. Watching your apprehensive expression as you took in his new, bare body, he grabbed your hips.

“Come here.” He commanded gently, easily lifting you up to sit on his lap. You both gasped as your core bumped against his painfully hard length. It was a bit embarrassing— the way he was able to wrap one arm around your waist to hold you up as the other gripped his length. The thought of all the different ways he could use this newfound strength sent bubbling excitement straight down to your core. “Take what you can, pretty girl.”

His compassionate words, even as he had you hovered over his desperately touch deprived cock warmed your heart. You nodded wordlessly, mouth falling open as he slowly lowered you onto him. Your nails dug into his shoulder to cope with the slow burning sensation that filled your core as he unconsciously bucked up into you. Before long, you were fully sheathed over his weeping member.

A long whine fell from his lips as your ass met his thighs. The sound was deeper than his usual, pitchy moans that you’d come to love, and it made a heat spread through your chest. You shifted to adjust your thighs in order to begin moving against him, desperate for any sort of friction after the long period of waiting for you to adjust to his new size, but he stopped you. Large hands came up to grip under your ass, lifting you up with ease to grind you against his already twitching length.

“Allow me, my love.”

Okay, maybe you could get used to this Yuta.

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