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defmaybe · 1 day ago

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Anatomy of a Farewell

12 Days of Christmas: Day 7, December 31st, 2024

fromis_9’s Park Jiwon x Male Reader

3.6k words

Christmas Masterlist

All good things must come to an end.

So is fromis_9 and your time with them, especially Jiwon.

“Cheers to us!” Saerom shouts, as she lifts her glass up for a toast. Everyone at the table joins in. It’s sad, really. It’s your last day to be officially together—the New Year’s Eve of 2024—and you can only hope that the wind of fate will somehow make your paths cross again.

So, what’s next?

You’ve been here for a few years already, from an intern to a boss. It has been a great experience for you, and now it’s coming to an end. Your future is uncertain again. Maybe Woollim? Maybe WakeOne? Maybe HYBE again? You aren’t so sure, and thinking about it only puts a burden on you.

You’re sitting on the outside of the bar, contemplating your life choices with a glass of beer in your hand. The December wind blows through the air, so—cold, dry, like every December before it.

“Hey.” A sound comes from your back. It’s Jiwon, a glass of beer in her hand. A faint smile is painted on her face.

“Hey,” you reply, taking a sip of your beer. It’s so quiet out here.

“You good?” she asks, sitting down beside you. Her right arm brushes slightly against yours.

“Well, you know, farewell sorrow and stuff,” you answer, chuckling softly at your predicament. You’ll have to find a new job after this, but for the last few years here, it has been worth it.

“Me too,” she says. It must be sad for her, suddenly saying goodbye to the women who’ve been with her for the last half decade or so.

You two let the silence linger in the air for a few more heartbeats, unsure of what to say next. You glance around you. There’s Jiwon. There’s a parking van, your company’s van, to be exact. There are trees. There's sadness building up inside you. There’s–

“I’ll miss them a lot, like, a fucking lot.”

You look at Jiwon again, your chin resting on your fist, trying to be her solace. It has been working so far.

“Yeah, it’s–hard,” you say. That’s the best sequence of words you could come up with, and it’s not bad, really. “You might still see them around, at least.”

Jiwon chuckles. “Yeah, I might.”

The concept of departure isn’t exactly new to you. You’ve had people leave you in the past before. It takes a few times to get used to it, really. But after that? It’s so much, much easier for you to accept your fate.

“So, what are you going to do next?” you ask, trying to continue the conversation. You want it to go on, at least you do. Despite how you’re so used to people’s departure, with Jiwon, it feels–different.

“Hmm.” She contemplates. You think she can easily have an acting career after this. You’ve seen her act before. She does it pretty well. Maybe she might star along Gyuri, one day.

“Modelling, maybe?” she says. That also works. Yeah, with a body like her, she definitely can do that.

“Seems sensible for you.”

She chuckles softly. “Thanks. What about you? Are you staying at HYBE?”

“Uh, I don’t know, really. I got the offer from a few places already, but I don’t know where I should go next,” you reply, shrugging. That WakeOne offer seems lucrative, could help your family.

“Where is it? Tell me!” she asks, smiling. She nudges you gently with her arm. But under this intoxication, you almost fall over. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Haiya!” you utter.

“Oh my god, sorry!” Jiwon holds you back in time. You’re not losing your balance yet.

“Well–” you pick yourself straight up again, brushing off the dust on your coat “–there’s Woollim, there’s WakeOne, and uh–there’s HYBE.”

Jiwon raises her eyebrows. “I can see someone like you working with Kep1er, though. HYBE sucks, like–look at us.”

You and Jiwon share a laugh in your predicaments. Yeah, HYBE sucks for you two—too few comebacks, too little promotions.

It has always been fun talking to Jiwon like this. You’d argue that Jiheon has been the closest to you, same age and all, but with Jiwon, it feels–different. It’s something you can’t quite describe.

The laughter then transitions into the silence lingers on for a few seconds more. The two of you don’t know what to say next. It happens sometimes. Still, with her, you feel safe, you feel happy.

“Maybe I should head back inside,” she finally says, smiling softly. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

—

The night rolls on. One beer, two beers, three beers. Every single one of you is getting more and more intoxicated, so are you and Jiwon.

Your eyes keep making contact with each other. With each time, you swear that attraction starts to build up. You’ve felt nothing like this towards her. She has never been more than a co-worker to you.

Is there something going on?

You excuse yourself to the bathroom for the umpteenth time tonight, hoping to make the intoxication subside (it won’t subside). You open the bathroom door, wash your face, and set your hair. Then, as you look up from the sink, Jiwon appears in the mirror from behind you.

“Fuck, you’re scaring me, Jiwon,” you say, as Jiwon appears to be chuckling behind you.

“Sorry,” she replies. “Just wanna ask you something.”

“Oh, sure.”

Jiwon looks away from you, trying to form the right words. “So, I’d like to ask you–if I could stay at your place–tonight.”

Aren’t they supposed to have a driver? What is happening?

“Uh, I thought you guys had a driver?” you ask, puzzled, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Well, the problem is that–” she pauses, giving way to the silence as she moves closer to you, her breath is on your neck. Her right hand touches the small of your back softly, making you shudder “–except for Saerom, I can’t let anyone know I’m staying with you.”

“Oh.”

—

“Hmmph, you smell–hmm–so fucking good,” she says, peppering kisses on your neck. Her lips feel so soft. Her thighs are locking your body in your place. You can’t move, but you’re more than happy being under her restraints like this.

“It’s Yves Saint’s Libre.”

She retreats from peppering kisses on your neck with a puzzled expression. “Women’s perfume, really?”

You chuckle. “I mean–it smells good. You even said that!”

“Fair.” She shrugs dismissively before diving onto your neck again. Your body shudders in response from the pleasure and the low temperature of the room. Her hands wander around your body possessively, trying to claim you as hers (you’re already hers). She smells so good. It’s probably La Vie Est Belle, the same one your sister uses. There’s a bit of alcohol in her scent.

“Mmm, y–you also smell g–good, Jiwon,” you mutter, struggling to get the words out under this immense pleasure.

“Mmph, thanks! It’s–”

“La Vie Est Belle. Yeah, my sister uses it.”

Jiwon lets out a chuckle, clearly satisfied with your knowledge. She then pushes you onto the bed, making you land with a soft thud. It’s game time for her.

“Would you mind turning on the heater?” she asks, slightly shivering, as she dives onto your neck to plant the kisses.

“S–Sure.”

You reach for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the heater. Her lips remain busy, placing kisses on your neck. She starts to strip herself of the restrictive clothes, embracing the warmth from your heater. She unbuttons her coat (it’s a little too big for her, if you’d have to add), revealing the red blouse under. Her cleavage is showing off nicely by the collar. God, she looks so great.

“Can I?” you ask her for permission to touch her chest. She looks so damn tempting, and you just couldn’t resist it.

“Go ahead,” she allows, mouth still busy on your neck somehow.

You reach out to touch her small, firm breasts that are hanging in front of you. You figure that they’re soft to the touch. They just fit in your hand. She’s perfect, and you decide to give her breasts a squeeze.

“Hmm, just like that,” she whimpers, pulling back from your neck to allow you easier access to her confined tits. Her body arches back slightly. Her blouse lifts a little to show the small of her toned tummy.

You give her breasts the treatment they deserve—grab, squeeze, knead. You’re making her moan in pure pleasure. She loves this.

“Mmm, fuckkk~” she groans. Her body vibrates under your touch. You’re revelling in the way she’s becoming undone like this. You’re revelling in the way her breasts feel in your hands. She’s so pliant, so yours.

“Baby,” Jiwon says, voice all airy from the bliss.

“Yes?” Your hands are still kneading her breasts softly

“I want–no–I need you inside me. Now.”

You giggle, quickly taking off your coat to make it equal. “No foreplay?”

“Me kissing your neck and you grabbing my tits are enough foreplay, baby,” she answers. Her voice is so light, so airy, so diluted. “I’m already fucking wet.”

You look into her eyes. They’re gleaming with unbridled desire. She wants this. She needs this. She needs you.

“Oh, s–sure,” you answer awkwardly before hastily unbuckling your belt. Your pants come off easily, and then there’s only your tight boxers left.

“Would you mind?” you ask, wanting her to be your guest in taking the last barrier off.

“Sure, why not?” she scoffs, before she grabs the edge of your underwear, teasing you, making you want more. She runs her thumbs along your waist, making you groan in the looming disappointment.

“God, thought you want me inside you,” you moan. She’s such a fucking cocktease.

“Just wanna hear you moan first” she replies, snaking her right hand under the piece of cloth. She brushes against your throbbing cock softly, making you moan to her wish.

“G–Goddd~” Your eyes flutter in ecstasy. Pleasure is coursing through you. It’s electric.

Jiwon giggles, before finally pulling your boxers down to your ankles, freeing your cock from its confinement. Your legs shiver from the still-cold air of the room. It hasn’t gotten much warmer yet.

“Already hard?” she playfully asks, softly flicking your shaft.

“Just for you.”

Jiwon lets out another laugh, clearly satisfied with your witty response. “Good answer.”

A smile escapes your lips, as Jiwon is still watching your cock with wonder. She really loves it, doesn’t she?

“So–” you reach out for her chin, tilting her face up slightly to meet your eyes. She looks nothing short of ethereal tonight under your dim room light. What a woman “–what are you going to do with me?”

Jiwon smiles. “Wait a second, dumbass. Can’t I just admire him for a bit?” Her eyes go back to watching your cock intently.

“Not after you promised me a ride, Jiwon,” you reply. You have needs too, and it’s currently not being sated.

“I’m not good with promise,” she says, giggling, and you can’t help but smile at her response. She then gets up into a sitting position again, tying her hair into a bun. Holy fuck, she looks so hot with that hair.

“Please,” you utter. You really want this. You really want her.

“Please what, baby?” she playfully asks, drawing a line on your shirt. You’re quivering under her touch.

“J–Just fuck me already, Jiwon,” you answer shakenly. You’re in dire need of her pussy now.

Jiwon smiles before unbuttoning her jeans and sliding it down, revealing her drenched panties underneath. She looks so tantalizing.

“Fuck, this is cold,” she says, crossing her arms.

“Want me to be on top?”

“But you’ll get cold!” she says, concerned about your wellbeing. What a kind woman.

“I have to be a good host.”

“And I have to be a good guest!” she replies sternly. She’s so adamant about this, isn’t she?

“Get down here then, Jiwon,” you say, gesturing to her to lie on your bed. She reluctantly complies, hesitating, still worrying if you’d feel cold.

But you already have other plans.

You carefully have her lying down on your bed next to you, on her side. You take off her wet panties, slowly, rewarding you with a light, small moan and the view of her wet pussy. You then lift her leg to rest on your thighs. It’s for easy access to her cunt.

“You really are a good host,” she says, a smile forms on her gorgeous face.

“Thanks.”

You line up your needy cock with her puffy cunt, ready to fuck her properly. You look into her eyes, and there’s nothing but desire. No anxiety. No apprehension. No second thoughts. She’s ready.

“Fuck me.”

With that, you thrust your hips into her wanton pussy. Her body shrieks in pleasure and a slight tinge of pain. Your cock is stretching her out wide. She feels great, so tight, so right. Her inner walls are grazing your cock, making you moan in unbridled joy.

“Goddd~” you moan. You’re feeling so ecstatic with her pussy wrapping around you. Then, there’s the clapping of your thighs. There’s her airy moans. There’s her gleeful expression. You love this. You love the way you make her moan. You love the way you’re feeling right now.

“You feel so good, baby. So big, so thick,” Jiwon groans, eyes closed with the boiling pleasure. Her hands hug around you ever so tightly, not wanting to lose you into the cold of the night.

“Ha–th–thanks, Jiwon,” you reply, stuttering. You just cannot handle the feeling that’s coursing through you right now.

Jiwon’s expression is nothing short of pure bliss—the closed eyes, the smile, the slightly arched eyebrows. She’s enjoying this. She’s enjoying your cock inside her.

You continue to slowly slide in and out of her needy pussy, enamored in the feeling of her walls hugging around your cock. Electricity shoots through your body. It feels great. She feels great—the warmth, the smell, the sound. She’s perfect.

You finally catch the tempo of fucking her folds, so you start to quicken your pace by a little. Her moans become shorter and shorter. She’s losing herself around your cock.

Jiwon bites her lip, finally opens her eyes. She looks up at you with pure lust in her pupils, and you swear that this is the most beautiful she has ever looked—in your tight embrace, on your bed, biting her own soft lip.

“Mmm, fucking love this cock,” she utters without any shame, leaning in to plant a soft peck on your forehead. Warmth emanates from the spot. It feels good.

“Love your pussy too, baby,” you say, making her laugh in your embrace.

She then leans in slightly closer, staring into your eyes. Is she going to–

“I–I–” Jiwon stutters. Her train of thoughts are derailed under the pleasure you’re giving her. You feel too good.

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You let the question hang in the air for a few seconds, drawing the tension, dragging the answer, making her restless.

“I’m already inside you, so–make that what you will,” you reply to her with a soft chuckle. Your hips are rocking into her pussy gently, trying not to hurt her.

Jiwon laughs. “No, I mean–fucking just doesn’t have enough emotions as kissing!”

“Kissing is just tongue though,” you deflect, protecting your point. She does have a point, at least, just not as strong as yours.

“Look at doggy,” she brings up her point. “You don’t have to look at each other, making it less intimate, a lot less.”

That makes sense. She just won her debate against you.

“Well, it seems that you’ve won, Miss Park.” You giggle, nibbling her chin softly. “Guess you can kiss me on the lips.”

Jiwon’s face lights up with a smile, before latching her lips on yours. The kiss is fervent. The kiss is passionate. She invades your mouth aggressively, a contradiction to the slow love making below your belts. Her grip on your face is tight. She doesn’t want to let you go.

Her lips taste like beer. It still lingers inside her mouth as you pierce her mouth with your tongue. You suppose yours probably taste the same. The kiss still feels electric, indeed. Jiwon lets out soft moans and whimpers into the kiss. God, what a feeling.

Her right hand then travels below your belt, smacking your plump ass. Your body jolts in response to the violent hit. She lets out a giggle.

Finally, she pulls back from the kiss. Your hips are still rocking down below, pounding her cunt with softness. Her face is all flushed, so enamored in the kiss.

“That felt great,” she says, a smile painting on her ethereal face.

“Me too, baby,”

Jiwon chuckles at the pet name, before starting to moan again. Her mouth is agape. Her eyes are barely open.

“Y–You’re so big, baby,” she utters.

“I–I’d argue that it’s p–pretty average, Jiwon.”

She shoots you a warm smile. “Don’t downplay yourself! Be proud of your size, alright?” Jiwon encourages you, and you can’t help but laugh at her words.

“O–Okay, Jiwon.”

You up your tempo into another ante. It has become a hammering session now. The sounds of smacking flesh echoes through your room. Sweat starts to form on both of your foreheads. Jiwon’s eyes are fluttering. She’s enjoying this.

“F–Fuckkk~” Jiwon moans, airy, diluted. Your hands wander down to her caged pert breasts, feeling them bounce in your hand. Jiwon lets out stuttered whimpers at your touch. She still feels so soft, so perfect in your hands.

“S–So good, baby,” she whimpers. She’s loving this.

“Glad I can be of help, babe,” you reply, eliciting a shaken laugh out of her lips.

The feeling around your cock is nothing short of ecstatic. Your moans are full of unpacked joy. Your cock fits into her pussy so perfectly. Her tight walls are trying to coax that white, viscous nectar out of your slit.

Her grips on your face grow tighter. Her moans become more frantic. Her breathing becomes ragged. Her muscles tense. She’s going to cum.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, baby,” Jiwon moans, as you pound her pussy with reckless abandon.

You realized that your grips on her face also become tighter and tighter as seconds go by. Your motion becomes more and more erratic down there. You’re chasing your own orgasm. You’re going to cum.

“M–Me too, babe,” you utter, so lost in the boiling pleasure.

Jiwon then pulls you into another fiery kiss. Her lips still taste like beer, but you swear that it’s like an aphrodisiac to you. Her tongue finds its way into your mouth dextrously, sweeping the insides of your mouth. Her right hand gives your ass another slap, making your whole body shudder in response. Your hands wander towards her small, firm chest, giving them a light squeeze. She moans as a reply to your touch.

Her breathing becomes faster and faster. You figure that she’s going to cum, and so are you. The all-too-familiar feeling is building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her.

“G–Gonna cum,” Jiwon utters into the kiss. Her tongue fights yours for dominance.

“Can I–Can I cum inside you?” you ask, slightly hoping for a yes.

“I–I’m on the p–pill, go ahead, baby,” she answers, and that’s a go for you to ram into her cunt with reckless abandon. The sound of your fleshes smacking rings through the room. The room reeks of sex in this December air.

You pull back from the sensual kiss to watch her flushed face. She’s moaning. Her eyes are barely opening, fluttering in ecstasy. She loves this. She loves having your cock pounding her pussy like this.

“Th–Thanks for e–everything,” you say. Your orgasm draws near.

“M–Me too, baby.”

She’s the first to let go. Gushes of torrent are discharged out of her pussy onto you, dripping onto your bed. Her walls contract around your cock. She cries out in pure bliss. Good thing that these walls are thick.

You follow suit. Your cock shoots spurts of cum into her wanton cavern, painting her insides white. Your hips buck harshly into her. You take a deep breath as you cum. Fuck, what a feeling.

Jiwon pulls you into another kiss, invading your mouth with adeptness. Her right hand presses onto your ass, wanting you to bury your cock inside her. She moans and moans into the kiss. The sound of the wet smooches and your moans ring inside your ears.

Inevitably, your orgasms die down. Violent shots of cum turn into drizzles out of your slit. Your sheets are all wet from her nectar. Both of you are panting—tired.

The two of you lie down on the bed on your sides—exhausted, spent, satisfied. Your bodies are all flushed with red. You’re watching her glowing in the post-debauchery bliss. She looks so good. You can’t let this go. You just can’t.

“Wanna do this again?” It’s one of the best sex you’ve ever had, and you can’t just let it slip past your hands so easily.

“Well–” she tucks her hair behind her ear, looking at you as she chuckles “–definitely, maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘Definitely, maybe’?”

Jiwon laughs, covering her mouth. “Just a movie reference, don’t worry,” she says, patting your shoulder. She looks so gorgeous like this.

“We’re definitely fucking again, no maybes.”

—

#jiwon #fromis 9 #jiwon smut #fromis 9 smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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joemama-2 · 2 days ago

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velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 12.9k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

The minute you, Koji, and Satoru step out of the mall, a small group of five reporters are hounding you guys. It comes as a surprise—a very unpleasant and unexpected surprise. You’ve never been involved in things like this, you’re still not used to it. You never will be. Your steps falter, leaning back and placing a protective hand on Koji’s back to steer him further into your body.

“Mr. Gojo! Is this your family?”

“Mr. Gojo, what do you have to say about the people who suspect you of keeping it all a secret?”

“Mr. Gojo, were you ashamed or embarrassed?”

“Y/N L/N, how does it feel to have Satoru Gojo as the father to your son?”

The questions are relentless, each one sharper than the last, and the flashing cameras blind you for a moment. Your heart races as you tighten your grip on Koji’s shoulder, your protective instincts flaring. Koji looks up at you with wide, frightened eyes, his small hands clutching at your coat. Satoru steps forward instinctively, his towering frame blocking you and Koji from the onslaught. His usual easygoing demeanor is replaced with a rare seriousness, his jaw clenched and his voice low. “Back off,” he warns, holding up a hand to shield his face. “You’re scaring my son.”

The reporters barely falter, emboldened by Satoru’s reaction. “Is that confirmation then? He is your son?” one of them presses, leaning closer with their camera.

Satoru exhales sharply through his nose, his tone now icy. “I said, back off.” He moves with precision, steering you and Koji toward the parking lot.

Koji clings to your side, his face buried in your coat as he mutters, “Mama, I don’t like this.”

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmur soothingly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “Just keep walking, okay?”

“Y/N,” Satoru says firmly, his hand brushing your elbow before grabbing onto it with a firm gentleness. “Stay close to me.”

You quickly pick your son up, holding him tightly to your chest and keeping his small face hidden in your neck. The crowd doesn’t let up, following you to the edge of the parking lot. They’re throwing more questions your way now, their voices rising as if to compete with each other.

“Y/N, do you think Satoru will take responsibility as a father?”

“Will there be a public statement?”

“Koji, do you know your dad is famous?” It’s one thing to ask his son a question, but it’s entirely another thing when that same reporter hounds just a bit too close to you, causing your footsteps to stumble a bit backward in order to not get hit by the obvious camera.

At that, Satoru stops dead in his tracks, eyes and face flitting with anger, but they don’t even express half of it. He spins on his heel, his height and presence instantly silencing the crowd. His gaze is sharp and unyielding. “You’re done,” he snaps, shoving the camera back, the reporter tripping over his own two feet and falling on his ass. “No more questions. No more photos. If I see any of you near my family again, you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

The authority in his voice makes even the most persistent reporters step back, the one who just fell cradling his camera that now has a broken lens. He waits for a beat to ensure they’ve gotten the message before turning back to you and Koji.

“Let’s go,” he says, his voice softer now as he reaches for you two. You don’t resist when he takes your hand, holding on firmly as if grounding you. His other is on the small of your back. The three of you walk in silence to the car, leaving the paparazzi behind. He guides you into the passenger seat before strapping Koji in his car seat in the back. Walking around the car to get into the driver’s side, closing the door with an exasperated huff. After a few still seconds, you finally exhale, slumping back in your seat. Satoru glances at you from the corner of his eye, then at the rearview mirror to make sure Koji is okay. Luckily his car’s windows are almost completely blacked out. His expression is unreadable. “You okay?”

You nod slowly, fingers dancing along your thighs. “I’m fine. Just… not used to this.”

Satoru’s lips press into a thin line. “You shouldn’t have to be. I’ll handle it.”

This outing was supposed to be a simple one—a wholesome one. Satoru insisted on taking Koji out, but Koji insisted you come with them. After debating, you decided what’s the worst that could happen? This, apparently. Satoru reaches behind him to place a couple of things he bought for Koji behind his seat. You told him that since it was so close to Christmas, you didn’t see the need to buy things for Koji. His response: “So? I want to spoil him every chance I get.” You understand, in a sense. But you still need to have a proper talk with Satoru about keeping his money and riches to a minimum when it comes to Koji. The last thing you want is for your son to get used to something that you wouldn’t be able to maintain yourself.

“You okay, Koji?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. He receives a feeble nod from his son, patting his little foot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect this to happen.” Satoru’s tone is laced with guilt as he turns to face forward again. Koji’s wide eyes dart between you and Satoru. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. I promise.”

Koji looks up at him hesitantly before mumbling, “I don’t like the flashing lights, Papa. They’re scary.”

Your heart clenches at his words, peering back and holding out your hand. He takes it and you rub his little knuckles with your thumb. “I know, sweetie. It’s over now. You’re safe with us.”

Satoru exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll do better,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. “Next time, we’ll go somewhere quieter. Somewhere they can’t find us.” You glance at him, catching the rare vulnerability in his expression. Despite your frustrations with the situation—and with him—you can tell he means it. His guilt is genuine, and that softens your own edges just a little. He looks like he wants to say something more, but he stops himself, his jaw tightening. He shifts in his seat, his gaze dropping to the steering wheel. “We’ll figure it out,” he says quietly. He turns the key and starts the engine, beginning to drive off.

The rest of the car ride is subdued, the weight of the earlier encounter and the unspoken tension settling over the three of you. Koji eventually drifts off, his small frame relaxing against you, and you lean your head against the window, watching the city lights blur past. You know you have a lot of conversations to do with Satoru that aren’t over—some haven’t even started. There’s so much left unsaid, so much you need to sort out—for Koji’s sake and for your own. But for now, you focus on the steady rhythm of Koji’s humming to the song playing and the faint hum of the car engine, holding onto the fragile sense of calm that has settled, however temporary it may be.

This is the first time Gojo’s getting a good look at your interior decorations. Koji’s watching TV and you’re watching Satoru trying his best not to judge. Outwardly, at least. The decorations you’ve put up are a little uncoordinated, he can tell some are quite old. There are a few things with stains from presumably the previous year, like your tablecloth. The only item he thinks is new is the pinecone-y candle lit in the middle of the kitchen counter. At least something in here is pretty, he looks at you. Never mind, you’re already here.

“Well…” Satoru starts, and you cut him off as soon as he does.

“I know, you don’t have to say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Yes, you were.”

“Then what was I going to say?”

“You were going to judge and put in your unwanted two cents.”

He scoffs with rolled eyes and a frown, arms crossing as he watches you go over to the sink to wash what was left in there from this morning. “Unwanted?” Satoru repeats, his tone is dramatic as he leans against the counter. “I think my two cents are worth at least a dollar, thank you very much.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, arching a brow. “Then keep your dollar to yourself. We’re not taking handouts.”

His lips quirk into a thinner line, and he straightens up, walking over to stand beside you. “Handouts? Who said anything about that? I was just going to say…” He pauses, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “This place has character.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head as you rinse a plate. “Is that your polite way of saying it’s outdated?”

“No,” he shrugs, though he gives himself away with a sigh. “Okay, maybe a little. But it’s not terrible. I kind of like it. It feels... real.”

You glance at him again, this time surprised by the sincerity in his voice. His eyes are scanning the room, and for once, they’re not filled with the usual analytical glint. Instead, there’s something softer, something almost nostalgic. “It’s not much,” you admit, drying your hands on a towel. “But it’s home. It’s all I can manage right now.”

Satoru turns to you, his expression shifting as he studies your face. “You’re doing a good job,” he says quietly. “Better than good, actually. Koji’s happy. That’s what matters.”

His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. You’re so used to his playful jabs and over-the-top confidence that this genuine side of him feels… different. Why is he being so nice today? Does he feel bad about what happened earlier and he’s trying to kiss your ass? Yeah, must be that. “Thanks,” you mutter quietly, meeting his gaze.

He casually lifts his shoulders up and down, the corners of his lips lifting into a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”

The moment lingers, the two of you standing in the small kitchen with the faint sound of cartoons playing in the background. It’s the closest you’ve felt to being on the same page in a long time. And though you don’t say it out loud, you’re grateful for it. That feeling only lasts a second before you remember just how different things are. Clearing your throat, you peek over to make sure Koji is engrossed in his show before speaking to Satoru. “Look, we have to talk.”

He nods, silently gesturing for you to continue.

“I understand you want to give Koji everything you can because you have that luxury, but I don’t want him to grow up like that, okay? He can have gifts, but you’ve been buying him at least ten new things every time you see him, Satoru. He’s starting to ask me now for toys and books and I don’t have that money right now to spend leisurely. So please, just…keep the gift-giving to a minimum. Christmas is already coming up.”

Satoru listens, his arms crossed and head tilted slightly, a contemplative look replacing his usual playful expression. When you finish, he exhales softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it,” he says after a moment. “I do. I don’t mean to overdo it; I just...I don’t know, I feel like I missed out on so much already. Giving him things feels like a way to make up for that.”

You soften at his admission, but you hold firm. “I understand that, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t give him anything. It’s just… he needs to learn that he can’t always have everything he wants. He has to understand boundaries, Satoru. Life isn’t always going to hand him the world on a silver platter.”

Satoru ponders for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “But I also want you to understand that he’s a kid, my kid. If I want to buy him things, I’m going to do that. I don’t need to run that by you and ask for your permission, Y/N. You’ve already made enough decisions for me.”

The little remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you. How could it? He’s right, you know that. But does he really need to bring that up right now when you’re trying to handle things like a mature adult and parent? You’re trying to make things better right now, not take his snide comments to face. Your jaw tightens, but you take a calming breath, trying to keep your composure. “I’m not trying to control what you do for him, Satoru. I’m just asking you to think about how it impacts him—and me. I’m the one who has to deal with the fallout when he doesn’t understand why I can’t give him the same things you can.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly, the tension between you two growing heavier. “And whose fault is that?” he asks, his voice lower now. “You’re the one who kept him from me. I would’ve been there, Y/N. I could’ve helped you.”

There it is—the resentment bubbling to the surface again.

You set the dish towel down a little too firmly on the counter, turning fully to face him. “I know, okay? I know I screwed up by keeping him from you, but I can’t go back and change that. I’m doing the best I can now, and I need you to meet me halfway here, Satoru.”

He holds your gaze for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Then, he sighs and looks away, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I’ll try,” he mutters, though his tone is tinged with bitter reluctance. “I’ll try to dial it back. But I’m not making any promises.”

You nod, knowing that’s probably the best you’ll get from him right now. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, the tension still thick but beginning to ease. The faint sound of Koji giggling at the TV filters into the kitchen, a reminder of what really matters. “I just want what’s best for him,” you say quietly, your voice softer now.

Satoru looks at you again, his expression hard to read. “So do I,” he replies, his tone matching yours.

And for a brief moment, it feels like you’re on the same side again. It reminds you that the only thing you two have in common is your son’s happiness and well-being and that Koji is the only reason you have this strained and awkward connection. Co-parenting. You don’t know how some couples did or are currently doing it. Even little conversations like ‘How’s your day?’ feel so forced with him, but you know it’s what comes with the job. What comes with hiding your kid and being tossed into the realm of co-parenting. You don’t have to like him, he doesn’t have to like you. You two are only in this for Koji—and that’s it.

So, why do you feel a small stab to your stomach when an annoyingly familiar name pops up on his screen with an incoming phone call? The picture of them kissing feels like it’s laughing right in your face, fingers curling into your palms as you coerce yourself to look away and pretend you’re busy with something else. Satoru keeps his voice hushed, like he’s trying to ensure you or Koji don’t listen. Only for a moment, you think: he’s acting like he has something to hide. And he shouldn’t. You two haven’t been together in years. But the fact that it seems like he’s trying to lessen whatever blow his relationship has on you, like he thinks—knows you’re not that happy with it, that makes you annoyed. Does he assume he still has the same effect on you? Does he think you still hold some secret feelings towards him?

Is he still as arrogant and conceited as he was before?

Maybe he believes that you’re still hung up on him. Yeah, must be. Because why else would he be apologizing to you after he hung up the phone with her, giving you that sympathetic gleam in his eyes that you recognize all too well. The same look he would give you after he knew he did something you didn’t like or didn’t approve of, and you would reprimand him for it. “I’m sorry, but I have to go soon.”

You nod, biting your tongue to hold back a snarky remark like why are you apologizing? I don’t care. “Just say bye to Koji.”

He nods, putting his phone in his pocket. Lips lying like he’s debating how to bring something up. “Before I go, I was thinking something. Since Christmas is coming up, I…I want to spend it with him, with you guys. If it’s okay, I’d like to come over then. We can cook and open presents together, I’ll bring what I bought for Koji that day.” His tone is cautious, almost like he’s unsure if the idea is good himself, but he pushed through somehow.

You blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden suggestion. Spend Christmas together? Like some picture-perfect family? It almost feels laughable, considering the complicated mess the two of you have found yourselves in. But when you glance at Koji in the other room, blissfully unaware of the tangled web of adult emotions, your resolve softens. “Christmas?” you repeat, just to confirm you heard him right.

Satoru shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean, I know things aren’t exactly…simple between us. But I thought it’d be nice for Koji. You know, give him something to look forward to. A memory he can hold on to.”

There it is again—that maddening mix of arrogance and sincerity that only Satoru Gojo can pull off. You hate that he’s making sense. You hate even more that a part of you wants to say yes. Not for his sake, of course, but for Koji’s. “I don’t know,” you start warily, crossing your arms. “I don’t want him to get confused, Satoru. He’s young, but he’s not stupid. If we start doing things like this, he might think…” You trail off, not wanting to put it into words.

Satoru’s expression softens, and for a moment, you see the man you once loved—the one who could convince you of anything with just a look. “He won’t think anything, Y/N. He’ll just be happy. That’s all I want for him.” He hesitates before adding, “That’s all I want for us.”

You swallow hard, caught between the weight of the past and the fragile threads of the present. “I’ll think about it,” you finally say, your voice quieter now.

His lips twitch into a small smile, relieved. “That’s all I ask.” He doesn’t press further, doesn’t push his luck. Instead, he steps into the living room, kneeling to Koji’s level to say his goodbyes. You watch from the kitchen, arms still crossed, heart still conflicted. The sound of Koji’s chuckles and his own goodbye fills the space as Satoru ruffles his hair, promising to come back soon. When he straightens up and heads for the door, he glances back at you one last time, his gaze lingering in a way that makes your chest tighten.

“Think about it,” he repeats softly before stepping out into the cold.

And just like that, the house feels a little emptier, a little quieter. You sigh, leaning against the counter as Koji returns to his cartoons, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in your chest.

Christmas. Together. You’re not sure if it’s a recipe for disaster or something else entirely. But, it’s for Koji. It would be his first Christmas with his father whom he looks up to like he’s some kind of superhero. A super rich superhero. It would be wrong of you to deny him of that—them both of that. And like Satoru said, you’ve already made enough decisions for him.

With a deep breath, you walk on over and sit next to your son on the floor, arm around his shoulders. “Koji?”

“Yes, Mama?” Koji hums back, eyes still fixated on the bright screen.

“I have a question for you.”

At this, he turns his head and looks at you, tilting it in a childish curiosity. “What?”

You bring him closer to your side. “Christmas is coming up, are you excited?” He nods enthusiastically. You smile and continue. “So, would you like Papa to come over on Christmas? He’ll play games with you and—”

“Yes!” he shouts, scooting closer to your face as he expresses his excitement with vigor. “I want Papa to come! I want Papa to come!”

You laugh softly, though the knot in your chest tightens. Koji’s innocent enthusiasm is infectious, and his wide grin makes it hard to feel anything but love for your son. “Okay, okay,” you say, ruffling his hair gently. “I’ll let Papa know you want him here.”

Koji bounces up and down, clapping his hands together. “Yay! Can we make cookies? And put out milk for Santa? And open presents together?”

“Of course,” you assure him, pulling him into a warm hug, and kissing the top of his white nest of hair. “We’ll do all of that.” As you hold him, your heart aches a little. Koji doesn’t understand the complexities of the situation, nor should he. To him, Christmas is just about family and joy and all the things that make the world seem big and bright. But to you, it’s a delicate balancing act—a chance to give Koji the kind of Christmas he deserves while keeping your own emotions in check. The last thing you want to do is start an argument on that special day and ruin it for your son. Just pretend, that’s all. For Koji. For Koji.

Later that evening, after Koji is fast asleep and tucked in bed, you pick up your phone and hesitate for a moment before sending Satoru a quick message:

Y/N:

He wants you here. Don’t make me regret this.

You put the phone down and stare at the ceiling for a while, wondering what the holidays will bring. For Koji’s sake, you hope it’s nothing but joy. For your own sake, you’re not so sure. A few more days. The buildup, anxiety, anticipation, it’s all killing you slowly. On one hand, you don’t want to see Satoru and pretend you’re all a happy family. But on the other, you know Koji wants him and the same goes for Satoru. You’ve taken away enough opportunities. You’ve wedged a big enough gap between this already small family and if you make it larger, you fear you’ll screw things up for good. It’s the holiday season, it’s not time to sit around and mope about your shitty life. It’s not the time to compare yourself to others and it’s most certainly not the time to brew in jealousy about the fact that Satoru was spending his past Christmases with another woman.

Shut that off, immediately.

What it is time for is to be happy you’ve lived to see another year, and happy your son has had a great year. And finally, it’s time to start thinking more about other people’s feelings. Including Satoru’s.

But, you’ve been doing that this entire time. Haven’t you?

Koji’s last day of school was Friday, now starting his break. “Thank you, Sana. I know the longer hours are a little annoying, but I’ll raise the pay by a dollar.”

“No need, Ms. Y/N,” the younger woman waves you off with a smile, in the middle of coloring with Koji. Her blue-dyed hair pulled up into a lazy bun. “I love Koji, I’ll watch him anytime you need me.”

Your smile turns sympathetic, letting out a small sigh and rubbing her shoulder. “You’re so sweet, thank you so much. You’re a big help around here.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She hugs you back and locks the door after you leave. The morning air feels nice to breathe in, not as cold as it was yesterday. You remind yourself to get a little gift for her. Maybe a gift basket? Or a gift card? Or more money, she’s a college student.

Walking to work that morning is the same as always. Waiting for the same crosswalk to turn green, passing by the usual bakery and donut shop, seeing that same old man doing his own morning walk. It all feels mundane—normal. Something that feels very much needed, more often than it would have last month. You’re still not entirely used to how much things have been integrated into your life, for the better or worse. Either way, it’s your life now. Time to embrace that in some way.

Walking into the cafe, you see a few of your co-workers readying and tidying up the place. Giving them a brief ‘good morning’ and nod, you head to the back to place your purse and coat down. It’s a quiet morning today, which is a little odd because usually, you would hear Hana’s fingers typing away on the keyboard to the computer. Or she would greet you hello. Turning your head, you see her; sitting at one of the chairs and completely engrossed in whoever she’s texting on her phone. She has a small, giddy smile on her face, letting out a quiet huff of laughter at what the other person said. “Hey?”

She snaps her head up, locking her phone and standing up. “Oh, hey. Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” You raise a brow and chuckle, walking over and nodding your head in the direction of the phone in her hand. “Who’s that?”

“Oh…” her cheeks grow slightly pink, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a shy manner. “Um…no one. Just a guy.”

“A cute guy?” You wiggle your eyebrows, and she responds by elbowing you.

“Not like that, Y/N. I barely know him.”

“For now.”

“He’s just a regular.” Hana plays it off, but the growing smile on her face juxtaposes her feigned nonchalance.

You grin, leaning against the counter as you cross your arms. “A regular,” you repeat, emphasizing the words with air quotes. “But give it a week, and I bet I’ll be hearing wedding bells.”

Hana rolls her eyes but can’t suppress the small smile creeping onto her face. “It’s nothing like that. We’ve only been talking for a few days.”

“And yet here you are, all smiley and distracted at work,” you point out with a playful laugh. “Come on, spill. What’s his name? What does he do?”

Hana hesitates for a moment before sighing, as though resigning herself to your curiosity. “His name is Naoya. Naoya Zenin,” she admits, the blush on her cheeks deepening. “I think he has something to do with business? Or real estate? He hasn’t said much about his job yet.”

“Naoya Zenin,” you repeat, testing the name on your tongue. “Have I ever seen him?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. He’s only just recently started coming in because of something like ‘he saw a pretty girl at the cashier and couldn’t resist’.”

You huff. “Sounds like a smoother talker already.”

“Y/N!” Hana protests, swatting at your arm. “He’s not like that! He’s… actually really nice. Sweet, even.”

You laugh, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll take your word for it. But don’t think you’re off the hook. I’m going to need updates. Daily updates. I live vicariously through you when it comes to your love life, you know that.”

She groans, but there’s a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. “Fine. But only if you promise to keep it between us.”

“Scout’s honor,” you say with a smile, though you’re already mentally filing this away to tease her about later. “This top secret of yours about your little boy toy will stay between you and I only, no outsiders.”

Hana nods, but the little smile on her face remains as she pockets her phone and joins you at the counter. Something tells you this Naoya guy might be worth hearing about after all. You think for a moment that it’s a little strange you haven’t ever seen or served him, but he obviously must’ve been in after you leave; sometime in the afternoon.

You’re curious, rightfully so. Hana hasn’t talked about a guy since the last man, which was about a year ago. You’re glad to see her out on the market again, opening herself up. She and this Naoya guy have only been talking for a few days, but she obviously has taken a quick interest in him. You could only hope he’s feeling the same, and not messing with her feelings. It’s the protective friend in you speaking.

Time flies before you know it, ringing up customers and making their beloved—but occasionally off coffee drinks. The small tune of the music playing on the speakers quells your mind, giving you something to hum to every now and then. The steady hum of the espresso machine, the clinking of mugs, and the soft murmur of conversations blend into the background, creating a comforting cadence. Customer after customer comes through, each order oddly more specific than the last. The overly tedious ones make you concerned sometimes. There are a few ordinary ones, of course.

“An oat milk latte, but can you add three pumps of hazelnut, and one pump of caramel, and make it extra hot? Oh, and no foam, please.”

You resist the urge to sigh, offering a polite smile instead. “Of course, coming right up.”

Hana, stationed beside you, exchanges an amused glance. “How do they come up with these combinations?” she whispers as she froths milk for a cappuccino.

“Beats me,” you reply, carefully measuring out the hazelnut syrup. “But hey, keeps us employed, right?”

The lively beat playing over the speakers catches your attention, and you continue to hum along absentmindedly as you finish up the drink. Moments like these make the chaos of the morning rush feel a little more manageable—a small comfort amidst the constant motion.

By the time noon rolls around, the rush has died down, leaving the café bathed in a peaceful lull. The scent of freshly brewed coffee still lingers in the air, mingling with the faint sweetness of pastries from the display case. You glance at Hana, who’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone during the quiet moment.

“You doing okay over there?” you ask, wiping down the counter.

She looks up, a sheepish grin on her face. “Yeah, just checking my messages.”

“From Naoya?” you tease, and her blush tells you all you need to know.

As she laughs and shakes her head, the door chime rings, signaling a new customer. You straighten up, slipping back into your friendly barista persona as you greet the newcomer.

“Welcome! What can I get started for you today?”

It’s a woman, nicely dressed and a bit older. There are some graying hairs at the front, but she holds her aged wrinkles well. Smiling at you with red-stained lips, lifting her sunglasses up to rest them on her head. “Hello, how are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

“Good,” she hums, eyes wandering up to the menu. “This is my first time here, may I ask what you recommend?”

You nod. “Our cookie butter latte is highly recommended, along with our raspberry matcha and horchata latte.”

The woman’s red lips curl into a thoughtful smile as she considers your suggestions. “Cookie butter latte? That does sound intriguing,” she says, tapping a manicured finger against her chin. “Is it too sweet?”

“It’s a bit on the sweeter side, but we can adjust it if you prefer something less sugary,” you offer.

“Hmm… I think I’ll try it as is,” she decides, returning her gaze to you. “A small one, please. Oh, and can you make it extra hot?”

“Of course.” You punch in her order and give her the total.

As she hands over a crisp bill, she glances around the café, taking in the cozy décor and warm atmosphere. “This place is lovely,” she remarks. “Do you enjoy working here?”

You smile, sliding her change across the counter. “I do. It’s a nice little escape from everything else. And the regulars make it fun.”

“I can imagine,” she says, her voice carrying a certain kindness. “It seems like the perfect place for a little pick-me-up.”

You chuckle softly, grabbing a cup to start up her order. “Of course.”

She watches you make her drink, which is normal for you since many other customers do that too. Either to ensure you’re doing everything right, or that you’re not messing up their order. Or simply they just want to know how to make that drink at home. This woman continues the conversation with you, however. “I love your necklace, it’s very beautiful.”

You glance down at the gold moon, peering back up at her with a thankful nod. “Oh, thank you. I got it as a gift from a co-worker last year.”

“It’s lovely.” She responds, keeping her holy smile on her face. You return the favor before finishing up her drink. Securing the lid on top and sliding a cover on the middle before turning back to her, and handing the drink over.

“Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

The woman takes the cup, but instead of leaving, she lingers, her eyes scanning the café again before settling on you. “You’re very efficient,” she says, her tone thoughtful. “And polite. Not everyone has that kind of composure while juggling multiple tasks.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply, slightly caught off guard. Compliments like that aren’t exactly rare, but there’s something in her tone that feels... deliberate.

She sets the cup down on the counter, her red lips curving into a subtle smile. “Forgive me if this seems forward, but are you happy working here?”

The question startles you, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to answer. It feels a little invading, but you’re not the type to be outwardly rude to a customer. Unless provoked; but even then, you hold your composure well. “I... I like it. The people are nice, and it’s steady work.”

“I see,” she says, nodding slowly. “You seem like someone who could do more, though. Someone with potential.”

You blink, not sure whether to take her words as a compliment or a critique. “Well, I try my best,” you say, keeping your tone neutral., lips pursing awkwardly.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a sleek black business card, sliding it across the counter toward you. “If you’re ever looking for a change, my company is always in need of someone capable. We’re hiring for a personal secretary position right now.”

Your eyes flicker down to the card, where her name and title are printed in elegant gold lettering. Beneath that, the name of a foreign, but well-known corporation—one you’d only ever dreamt of working for.

Evelyn Carlisle.

Founder & CEO of:

Carlisle & Harlow.

Carlisle & Harlow is a luxury lifestyle and real estate industry that specializes in high-end properties, exclusive concierge services, and premium lifestyle management for elite clientele. It has a reputation for catering to the wealthy, ensuring that every detail of its clients’ lives is managed to perfection.

You hesitate, staring at the card. Eyes wide, lips parting and closing in surprise and confusion. It feels like a golden ticket has just been thrust in your face. And for what reason? You have absolutely no idea. “I—I don’t know…”

“It’s just a thought,” she says smoothly, picking up her latte again. “You’re under no obligation, but I think you’d do wonderfully. If you’re interested, give me a call.”

Before you can respond, she offers you another one of those warm, knowing smiles and turns toward the door. The second her back is to you, she’s on her phone, texting something. “Have a good day, dear.”

You stand there for a moment, holding the card in your hand, unsure of what to think. The logo on the card gleams in the café’s warm light, and your mind races with possibilities—and doubts. Could this really be an opportunity, or is it too good to be true? How did this just happen so…suddenly? If her business wasn’t so well known, you would’ve assumed you were being scammed and thrown the card away as soon as she left. But, it feels like an opportunity, nonetheless.

A bright opportunity that screams money.

A part of you is still very much hesitant about what just happened, but the desperate part of you is telling your brain to make that phone call as soon as you have the chance. Just think about it, if all of this is authentic, you would have a good-paying job. No more rushing back and forth between two, no more sleep deprivation (hopefully), and you would be a bit more stable. Maybe if you save up enough, you could buy a new place.

Okay, thinking too far ahead.

You pocket the card, smiling to yourself. For once, it feels like a small beam of light is being cast your way. Like you’re being chosen. It turns your stomach in delight and excitement.

But, you can’t stop the lingering, pressing question.

Why did that feel a little…organized?

“And this here, we have our newest version of RavenX.”

Yamato nods in astonishment, watching the mechanical crow tilt its head, the red circle in its eye prominent as the crow blinks. Its purple wings demonstrate a high altitude while the screen in front of him and his son shows the view of what the crow is seeing. Satoru stands cross-armed next to his father, silently praising the meticulously engineered drone.

Mei Mei steps forward, her tone confident and composed as she gestures toward the screen showcasing the RavenX drone's perspective. “The RavenX is designed for both surveillance and tactical operations. Enhanced AI ensures decision-making capabilities in real-time, and the thermal imaging allows it to identify targets even in low-visibility conditions.”

She turns to Yamato with a faint smirk. “It can operate autonomously for up to 48 hours without recharge and has a flight speed that outpaces any similar product on the market. Its compact size makes it nearly undetectable by radar.”

Yamato’s lips curl into a subtle smile as he leans closer to examine the live feed on the screen. “Impressive,” he murmurs, nodding slowly. “And you’ve managed to keep the design sleek. Functionality without sacrificing form.”

Satoru tilts his head slightly, his usual business-y tone replaced with one of genuine curiosity. “What about security? How resistant is it to hacking or signal jamming?”

Mei Mei casts him a sidelong glance, clearly prepared for the question. “The RavenX operates on an encrypted frequency that’s nearly impossible to intercept. Even if someone managed to breach it, the drone has an auto-lockout protocol. It will wipe its data and return to base immediately.”

Yamato raises a brow, clearly impressed. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Mei Mei.”

Mei Mei keeps her poised smile, her confidence unmistakable. “Why thank you, Mr. Gojo. The RavenX isn’t just a surveillance drone—but it’s a masterpiece of precision engineering. With a flight range of over 500 miles and an adaptive AI capable of learning terrain in real-time, it ensures maximum efficiency in hostile or unpredictable environments.”

Yamato leans forward slightly, adjusting his glasses, his expression one of genuine intrigue. “Interesting. And the resolution on this feed?”

“4K with thermal imaging,” Mei Mei replies, tapping the screen to zoom in on a distant object. The clarity is undeniable. “It’s designed to thrive in low-visibility conditions. Perfect for search and rescue, military applications, or even high-security industrial work. The AI is coded for rapid response to potential threats—watch this.”

She waves to one of her team members, who approaches the drone with a metal rod. As soon as the drone’s sensors pick up the movement, it lets out a synthetic caw and gracefully maneuvers upward, evading the perceived threat.

Satoru raises his brows, shifting his weight. “Not bad,” he murmurs, clearly impressed but keeping his tone casual.

Mei Mei tilts her head, catching his eye. “Not bad? That’s high praise coming from the Satoru Gojo. I’ll take it.” Mei Mei clears her throat, tucking some hair behind her ear. “We’ve also designed it to respond to its owner’s call. Like this.” She whistles and quickly, the crow swoops down, landing on her outstretched arm as if it were an actual animal. Mei Mei’s grin deepens as the RavenX perches gracefully on her arm, its wings retracting with a faint mechanical hum. She lightly taps the drone’s head, and its eyes blink, the red circle fading into a neutral glow. "Fully programmable for voice commands," she explains, "and adaptable to any user profile. It recognizes not just my call but also pre-set vocal patterns. This makes it irreplaceable for high-security operations or personal defense."

Yamato watches the display with a mixture of intrigue and admiration. “Quite remarkable of you and your team,” he states, walking forward to eye the drone better. “How does it differentiate between allies and potential threats? Is the AI pre-programmed, or does it learn through interaction?”

Mei Mei nods, her expression one of quiet pride. “The AI starts with a baseline program, but it continuously evolves through machine learning. It identifies allies by biometrics, such as voice and facial recognition. And in cases where immediate action is required, it calculates probabilities based on behavior patterns. For instance—"

She steps closer to Satoru, her smile taking on a sly edge. “Care to test it, Mr. Gojo?”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “You want me to scare your fancy bird?”

Mei Mei chuckles. “If you think you can.”

Satoru steps forward, his presence commanding as always, and makes a sudden, exaggerated swipe toward the drone. In an instant, the RavenX lets out a sharp synthetic caw and takes flight, circling above them with its crimson eye scanning. Mei Mei whistles again, and the drone lands back on her arm, unbothered and perfectly still.

“Responsive and calm under pressure,” she states, stroking the metallic head. “Exactly what you’d want in the field. Or at home, for that matter.”

Yamato smiles faintly, exchanging a glance with Satoru. “What do you think, Satoru?”

Satoru tilts his head, his head tilting in thought. “I think it has personality. Not bad, Mei Mei. Not bad at all.”

“High praise,” Mei Mei quips, lowering the drone to its docking station. “But don’t just take my word for it. Schedule the live demonstration, and I’ll prove that the RavenX is not just another toy—it’s the future.”

“Seems like it’ll bring in great revenue for Corvid Dynamics,” Satoru hums, the faintest flicker of amusement in his tone. He’s testing her, poking at the edges of her confidence.

Mei Mei’s lips curve into a slow, calculating smile, her gaze sharp enough to slice through steel. “Oh, Mr. Gojo,” she drawls, her voice smooth but laced with something darker. “If there’s one thing you should’ve learned by now, it’s that I always get my payday. No matter the cost.”

Her words hang heavy in the air, a subtle challenge, as if daring him to uncover just how far she’d go.

Satoru’s brows knit slightly, facing her cockiness with his own growing peculiarity and slight indignation. Yamato’s eyes gleam with interest, and he nods. “We’ll be in touch.”

As Mei Mei leaves the room, Yamato leans back, hands in his pockets, his gaze lingering on the drone. “I like her,” he says with a casual chuckle. “But I like the bird more.”

“You do realize she’s been attempting to sell us the same product for years now, right?” Satoru replies, giving his father a look. “Not much has changed except for her persistence and lack of connections with other investors. She’s desperate.”

Yamato's eyes remain fixed on the docking station where the multiple of the RavenX rest, their red eyes dimmed. He hums thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his chin. “Desperation doesn’t always mean a bad deal, Satoru. Sometimes it means someone is willing to give more than they take.”

Satoru scoffs lightly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Or it means we’re being pitched a polished-up version of the same old tech because she can’t get anyone else to bite.” His tone is sharp, but there’s a glint of curiosity in his gaze as he glances back at the drone.

“You underestimate her,” Yamato replies evenly, turning to face his son. “Mei Mei might not have the connections now, but her ingenuity is undeniable. Persistence like hers doesn’t come without talent.”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, his frown faint. “So what’s the play? You want to throw her a bone? Out of pity?”

Yamato chuckles, shaking his head. “No. I want to see how far she’s willing to go to prove herself. Desperation has a way of bringing out either brilliance or recklessness. Either one can be valuable… if handled correctly.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly, his posture relaxing but his mind clearly working. “You think she’s banking everything on this deal?”

“Possibly,” Yamato replies. “And if that’s the case, it’s an opportunity for us to gain leverage. Let her prove the RavenX’s worth. If she succeeds, we gain a strong partner. If she doesn’t, we gain insight into her limitations.”

Satoru scoffs. “So we’re dangling the carrot. Making her sweat a little?”

Yamato’s expression hardens slightly, his tone measured. “We don’t play games, Satoru. We make calculated investments. Mei Mei is smart, but she needs to prove she can be consistent. We don’t just invest in technology—we invest in people.”

“She’s a money-hungry woman who has proven to throw her own family under the bus.” Satoru huffs, face scrunching in disgust. “Why would we want to do business with that?”

Yamato gives his son a long, measured look, his expression sharpening slightly. “And what makes you think she’s any different from any other businessperson out there? Everyone has a past, Satoru. You can’t throw someone out because of a few bad decisions or some family drama. You need to look at the bigger picture. Her motivations, her drive. If she’s willing to risk it all for this, we need to understand why—and if it’s worth it for us.”

Satoru’s eyes flash with irritation, but he keeps his tone steady. “And what if it’s not? What if she’s just too volatile? We don’t need someone who’s going to blow up in our faces when things get rough. Besides, we need to be careful of who we trust and partner with. Anyone of these people could be the leaker. What if she’s the reason my family has been put in danger?”

“It’s not your family if you’re not married.” Yamato simply utters, turning to walk out the building.

Satoru tenses his jaw, following his father out into the cold December air; each wearing long black coats. “Don’t. We’re talking about my son and his mother, it doesn’t matter if we’re not married. They’re still valuable to me.”

Yamato stops in his tracks, his breath visible in the frigid air, and his gaze lingers on Satoru, weighing his words carefully. “I know they’re valuable to you. But you have to separate your emotions from business, Satoru. This isn’t about family drama. This is about leverage, trust, and the bigger game. You can’t afford to let personal stakes cloud your judgment when there’s so much on the line.

Satoru’s hands ball into fists, his frustration evident. “And what about loyalty? What about looking out for the people who matter to us? You can’t pretend it’s all just numbers and strategy when lives are at risk.”

Yamato turns his body fully, looking at his son with an intensity that’s both fatherly and businesslike. “You’ve got to protect what’s yours, yes. But you have to know when to fight and when to step back. Mei Mei is a risk, but so is anyone else. We make calculated moves, not emotional ones.”

Satoru exhales sharply, his breath mixing with the cold air. “Calculated moves...You keep saying that like it makes everything easier. But what if she’s too dangerous? What if this deal blows up in our faces?”

He sighs. “Listen, okay? You’re right,” Yamato says, his voice quiet but firm. “Koji and that woman are valuable. But there’s a difference between protecting them and letting fear cloud your judgment. If we start making decisions based on fear of the unknown, we risk losing everything.” His gaze hardens slightly, the unspoken weight of responsibility hanging in the air. “We need to think strategically. If Mei Mei’s involved in this leak, we’ll find out. But we can’t let that stop us from moving forward.”

Satoru clenches his fists, frustration building as the cold air bites at his skin. “Her name is Y/N. And I don’t want to be blindsided, Dad. I don’t want to end up paying for a mistake I didn’t see coming.”

“I know,” Yamato replies. “And that’s why we don’t rush into anything. We take the time to assess, to understand what’s really at stake here. If she’s the leaker, then we’ll handle it. If she’s not… then we make sure she’s a valuable asset to this company, and we don’t let her get too comfortable. At the end of the day, our real issue is with the mastermind behind all this, who wanted it out for us—you—in the first place.” Yamato’s face hardens, his voice low but firm. “And this is a chance you take in this world. It’s not all clean and easy, Satoru. But in the end, it’s about understanding the person you’re dealing with. You don’t just protect your assets—you protect the people who can help you build something greater.”

Satoru doesn’t respond right away, his jaw tight as he processes his father’s words. The snow starts to fall lightly around them, a silent reminder of the cold world they’re navigating.

“I’m not letting anyone—especially someone like Mei Mei—jeopardize Koji,” Satoru finally says, his voice more resolute now, though there’s a layer of uncertainty still lingering. “I can play the game, but I’m not playing with fire just because someone’s trying to get their foot in the door.”

Yamato watches him for a moment, his eyes unreadable, before nodding slowly. “I know. But sometimes, Satoru, you’ve got to light the fire to control it. You don’t have to trust Mei Mei right away—but you’ll need to see her for who she truly is before you make your final move.”

The two of them continue walking in silence, the sound of their footsteps crunching in the snow a steady rhythm. In the distance, the city skyline looms, full of promises, dangers, and opportunities that will inevitably pull them further into the storm. The black Escalade waiting for them in the distance. “I’m going to keep my eye on her. I won’t sacrifice my own for the sake of business. Unlike you.”

Satoru speaks with finality, walking ahead of his father and getting into the backseat as the driver opens the door for them. Yamato, watching his son’s back, feels a twinge of guilt at the truth behind his son’s honesty. But he hides that behind his usual serious expression, shaking away his guiltiness with frustration. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

The two men don’t even make it three steps back into the first floor of the office before Himari is bounding up to her boyfriend. Arms instantly wrapping around his neck and she shamelessly latches her lips onto his. Yamato, along with a few other working employees look away, his father not bothering to hide his displeased sound. Satoru, caught off guard, pulls away, hands to her shoulders. “Himari, what are you doing?”

“Oh, what? Now you don’t want me to kiss you in front of people?” The bitterness in her voice doesn’t go undetected, sparing Yamato a glance before batting her lashes up at Satoru. “I was waiting for you, I didn’t know you went out.”

“Because I didn’t tell you.”

“And because you’re still keeping secrets from me.”

He really doesn’t want to argue with her right now, especially here. Instead, he sighs, grabbing hold of her hand and leading her to the elevator. “Please don’t make a scene, okay? I’m working.”

Himari’s expression hardens as the elevator doors close, turning to Satoru. “Oh, ‘a scene’? Is that what you think it is? You’re my boyfriend—mine. If I want to kiss you, I’ll do that.”

Satoru closes his eyes briefly, exhaling in frustration as the elevator ascends. The tension between them is palpable, and he knows that Himari’s possessiveness is starting to bleed into every aspect of their relationship. He’s never been one for confrontation with her, but he can feel the cracks starting to form, the weight of the secrets, and the pressure of expectations pulling at him. “Look, Himari,” he starts, his voice low but firm. “You’re right, you’re my girlfriend, and I don’t mind being affectionate with you. But not like that—especially not in front of my team and father. I don’t need the office to think we’re some kind of soap opera.”

Himari crosses her arms over her chest, her lips pressed together in a tight line. “I’m not the one making this difficult, Satoru. You’re the one hiding things from me, playing these little games. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m by your side, but you’re always pushing me away. And for what, her?” She dramatically scoffs at the idea of you.

Satoru focuses on the rising numbers of the floors, willing himself to handle this calmly. “We’re not talking about her right now, Himari.”

“But you’re thinking of her.”

They get to the right floor and Satoru quickly steps out, making his way to his office. Himari is right on his tail, clinging to his arm.

Satoru pulls the door open to his office, his movements stiff as he enters, trying to shake off the tension from the elevator. Himari follows closely behind, the weight of her presence already grating on his nerves. The office is quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside the large windows.

He sets his briefcase down on the desk, his mind still swirling with the earlier conversation with his father. Mei Mei’s drones, the possible business partnership—everything feels like it’s spinning out of his control. But with Himari here, focusing on her, is the last thing he wants to do. She steps in front of him, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. “You’re avoiding me now?” Her voice is sharp, tinged with a mix of frustration and hurt.

Satoru exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not avoiding you, Himari. I’m just trying to focus on work.” His words are clipped, and tired.

Her gaze softens, but there's still a touch of bitterness lingering. "Work, huh?" she repeats. "Or is it her? Are you really telling me there's nothing going on with you two? She was at your house the other day, acting as if she lived there."

Satoru closes his eyes briefly, willing himself to stay calm. “She doesn’t live there, Himari. And I don’t have time for this right now. I’m dealing with a lot. I’m trying to keep everything from falling apart.” His tone is low, strained.

Himari’s expression falters for a second, the usual arrogance in her stance dimming just slightly. “I just want to know where I stand with you. I want you to be open with me. I want to trust you.” Her voice softens.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not hiding anything, Himari. But there are things I need to handle before I can talk about us. I need you to trust me on that.”

She looks at him for a long beat, her lips pursed in thought. Finally, she steps closer, her fingers brushing against his chest. “I want to trust you, Satoru. But you’re making it hard.” Her voice is barely above a whisper now, the sharp edge replaced with a quiet vulnerability.

He’s silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. The weight of her words presses down on him, but he knows that there’s too much at stake right now. With everything that’s going on—this new possible business deal, the leaks, the company’s future, his son, and you—he can’t afford to focus on this relationship as much as he might want to.

“I’m doing the best I can,” he says quietly, voice almost too soft for her to hear. “But you need to understand, Himari… it’s not just about us. There are bigger things happening right now.”

She stares at him, eyes searching his face, as if trying to decode every emotion there. “Promise me something, then. Just give me that little bit of reassurance.” Her hands find home on his cheeks, tilting his face down toward hers. “Nothing is going on between you and her. You’re still mine, right?”

Satoru hesitates, feeling the heat of her hands on his cheeks, the pressure of her gaze locking him in place. Her words hang in the air, a demand wrapped in uncertainty, and for a moment, he’s unsure of how to respond. He wants to reassure her, wants to calm the storm brewing in her eyes, but the truth is far more complicated than a simple promise. There’s only one answer he must give her. He swallows, his thoughts swirling. “Himari, you know I’m not good with promises,” he murmurs, his voice low and tinged with frustration. “But I can tell you this: there’s nothing between me and her.” He forces his gaze to meet hers, trying to convey the sincerity in his words, even though the uncertainty weighs on him. “I’m still here. And I’m still yours.”

Her eyes soften, but the tension doesn’t fully lift. She searches his face for any sign of hesitation, any clue that might betray him. For a long moment, they stand there, her hands still cradling his face, as if willing him to prove himself. As if the longer they stay like this, his words might actually feel more like the truth than a bandaid. Finally, she nods, though there’s a flicker of doubt in her gaze. “I want to believe you, Satoru. I really do.”

“You really didn’t have to buy us presents.” You mutter, opening the door to your visitor. Still making sure to keep your volume to a low since Koji is sleeping in his room.

Suguru smiles warmly, stepping in and shaking off the snow before placing two presents under the tree. One for your son, and one for you. “It’s okay, Y/N. I wanted to.”

It’s pretty late at night, but Suguru had told you he had a pretty busy week up ahead and this was really the only time he could drop off his presents for you and Koji. You showered and ate a quick dinner before he came. Muscles sore and feet tired from standing all day, but you still find it in you to show your gratitude. “I appreciate it, really.” Closing and locking the door behind you, you sigh. “I feel bad, I haven’t gotten anyone a gift besides Koji. I’ll buy you something with my next paycheck.”

Suguru chuckles softly, his eyes warm with understanding. "You don’t have to worry about that, Y/N. I don’t expect anything in return." He gestures to the presents under the tree. "This is just a small token of appreciation, nothing more. It’s Christmas, everyone deserves a gift."

You feel a faint blush creeping up your neck at his words. The sincerity in his tone makes you feel both grateful and a little guilty. It’s hard to accept his kindness sometimes, especially when you feel like you’re not able to give back as much. “Well, thank you again,” you say quietly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “You didn’t have to go through all the trouble.”

Suguru gives you a reassuring smile. "It’s no trouble at all. I’m just happy to see you and Koji doing well." He glances toward the hallway where Koji’s room is. "How’s he been? Sleeping well?"

You nod, walking over to the couch and sitting down with a sigh. "Yeah, he’s been good. He hasn’t been napping during the day lately, so I guess he’s just getting more tired at night. Which is good, I suppose. More time to rest for me too." You run a hand through your hair, glancing at the tree in the corner. "I just wish I had more time to relax… but you know how it is."

Suguru sits down beside you, his posture relaxed. "I know exactly how it is," he says with a knowing look. "But you’re doing the best you can. That’s all anyone can ask for." He pauses, then adds softly, "And I’ll always be here to help when you need it."

You give him a small, thankful smile, the weight of the day finally beginning to lift a little. "Thanks, Suguru. I really mean it."

He nods, his smile warm but gentle. "Of course. You’re not alone in this."

As you sit there, the quiet comfort of his presence fills the room. You know that no matter how much you try to do on your own, Suguru will always be there, offering support when you need it most. He’s always been like that. You remember times when you and Satoru would fight and Suguru would help comfort you. It’s something you had come to rely on, and while it’s not always easy to accept help, you’re starting to understand that sometimes, it’s okay to lean on the people who care about you. That relationship between you two still feels strained, though—weird.

“So…” you start, wanting to fill the empty silence with something. “How was your day today?”

Suguru tilts his head slightly, his expression thoughtful for a moment before he answers. “Busy, as usual. Lots of meetings, a bit of paperwork, and some follow-ups. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it’s nice to finally have a bit of a breather now.” He chuckles softly. “I’ve been looking forward to this more than I probably should’ve. Being able to just sit down and talk without worrying about the next thing on my to-do list.”

You smile a little, appreciating his honesty. “Sounds like you’ve earned the break, then.” You stretch slightly, feeling the strain in your muscles from standing all day. “I get that feeling too sometimes, when everything feels like it’s moving too fast and I can’t catch my breath.”

Suguru nods in understanding, his gaze gentle. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s hard to slow down when there’s so much going on. But you do a good job of juggling everything. I admire that about you.” His voice is low, and there’s a sincerity in it that makes your chest tighten a little, a smile hiding on your lips.

You glance down at your hands, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “I try my best… but it’s not always easy. Some days, I feel like I’m failing at everything.”

Suguru reaches over, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’re not failing, Y/N. Trust me. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s more than enough. I see how hard you work, how much you care for Koji. You’re doing a great job, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

His words settle over you like a warm blanket, easing the tension you didn’t even realize you were holding. You take a deep breath, trying to push away the doubts that have been lingering in your mind. “I appreciate it, Suguru. I really needed to hear that.”

He gives you a soft smile, the kind that says everything without needing words. “Anytime.”

You make eye contact with him, feeling a blizzard of strange emotions pile down onto you. The smile he adorns causes your own to come out of hiding, and before you know it, he’s softly chuckling. Looking back down at his feet. The sound of his laugh causes your heart to beat just a little faster. Clearing your throat. “You can take your coat off. I have some leftover wine.” In your head, you’re confused as to why you suddenly made that suggestion; mentally face-palming. “Unless you drove here, then never mind.”

“I won’t get drunk off some wine,” he shakes his head, standing and stripping himself of his coat to reveal a cotton white shirt. “Lead the way.”

With a small, but amused huff, you get up from the couch and walk over to the kitchen. Reaching up to open the cabinet you don’t request very often. The hem of your shirt rises slightly, revealing a teasing hint of your lower stomach. Suguru forces his eyes to stay on your hands, biting the inside of his cheek.

You pull out the bottle of wine, twisting the cap off and setting it down next to two glasses on the counter. As you pour, you feel the weight of Suguru’s gaze on you, though you don’t look at him directly. The air in the kitchen feels different now, charged in a way that makes the space seem smaller, and more intimate. “You didn’t have to bring me a gift, but I’m glad you did,” you say, trying to break the tension with casual words. You pour the wine, handing him a glass first. “It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got tonight.”

Suguru takes the glass with a smile, the faintest trace of something unreadable in his eyes. “I told you I didn’t bring it to get anything in return. It’s just a little something to show I care.”

His tone is steady, but there’s a subtle undercurrent that makes your heart race. You try to mask your unease with a small grin as you take a sip of the wine, letting its warmth settle into you. “I appreciate that. I really do.”

You move to lean against the counter, feeling suddenly self-conscious in the silence that hangs between you two. Suguru stands a bit closer than you’re used to, the space between you two too small now. His eyes flicker to your lips for a second before he quickly looks away, but the faint moment lingers in the air, thick with unspoken words. You let the wine sit on your tongue a bit longer, trying to steady your thoughts. Something has shifted—maybe it’s the closeness, or maybe it’s just the quiet understanding between the two of you. But you’re keenly aware of how his presence fills the room, how his proximity makes everything feel heightened.

“How have things been with you and Satoru?”

Holding back a grimace, you take another sip. “I mean, as good as it can be, you know?”

Suguru nods, his expression softening as he leans against the counter, his arms crossed. “I get it. Relationships are complicated, especially when you’re balancing so much already.”

You exhale a quiet sigh, setting the glass down a little too firmly. “Yeah. There’s always something, isn’t there? Between work, Koji, and everything…it’s hard. Stressful and overwhelming.”

Suguru watches you take your sip, frowning slightly in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it’s a lot, but I can’t imagine being in your position. But it’s one day at a time, you’ll get through this. It’s easier said than done, but you could do it. You have help now. Satoru, Shoko, me.”

When you look at him, you feel yourself once again slipping into a tranquil state. Mirroring his kind facial expressions with one of your own. His words feel like a soothing balm, it feels like you’re being heard—being listened to in who knows how long? There’s a nagging voice in the back of your mind that warns you of the invisible line. Playfully, you nudge his arm. “Okay, preacher.”

He scoffs softly, nudging you back. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You push him again, he follows suit. It’s a small, spirited moment that makes you feel light. That soon comes to an end when your glass, half-full of red wine, spills not only onto the counter but onto his shirt—leaving the pristine canvas with a circle splotch of deep maroon. You gasp. “Shit! I–I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head as he looks down at the stain on his shirt. “It’s fine, Y/N. Really. It’s just a shirt.” He steps back a little, his hands raised in mock surrender as he waves off your apology, setting down his glass. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve had worse.”

You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, quickly grabbing a dish towel to dab at the stain, though you know it won’t help much at this point. "I’m so clumsy. I didn’t mean to—"

“Hey, hey.” Suguru cuts you off with a laugh, gently placing a hand on your wrist to stop you from dabbing at the stain. “It’s alright. Really. Just... relax.” He pauses for a moment before adding with a joking grin, “Though I might need a new shirt, I’ll survive.”

Your eyes meet his, and for a second, you see that familiar warmth in his gaze, the kind that always made you feel safe. The kind that, in another life, might’ve made you believe in something more between the two of you. But just as quickly, you pull yourself back, reminding yourself of the boundaries you’ve set. The ones that have to stay intact. “I’ll grab a new shirt for you,” you murmur, still embarrassed but trying to laugh it off. You turn toward your bedroom, your heart racing a little faster than before.

Suguru doesn’t stop you, though you hear him muttering something about "next time, at least aim for the carpet," as you walk away. The air between you both feels thick with something unspoken. You open your drawer for a fresh shirt, sifting out the biggest one you know you have. A simple black short sleeve you could only hope will suffice. Walking back out to the kitchen, you frown. “That was an accident, Suguru. Really.”

“I know,” he nods, meeting your frantic worries with his own set of serenity. “Thank you for the shirt.”

His hands move quicker than you had expected, your pupils blowing wide and holding back a startled noise. You gulp hard, forcing your eyes to focus on a random spot on your kitchen wall. However, you can’t help them wandering every so often as he unbuttons the now red-stained shirt. Your throat almost dries at the peek of his collarbone. Again, looking away. Don’t, that’s not right.

But if it’s not right, why does it feel like the opposite? Why is it suddenly making you nervous—flustered? You even jolt a bit at his calming voice interjecting the silence. “It’s alright, you didn’t mean it.”

You can only offer a weak nod, not trusting your voice to give away your inner turmoil and confusion. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck, your heart thudding too loudly in your chest as Suguru drops his shirt onto the counter. His movements are unhurried, and calm, as if he doesn’t notice the storm brewing inside you.

Or maybe he does.

Holding your hands together awkwardly, peeking back over to see if he’s done. You almost wish you hadn’t. His perfect chest greets you hello. Abs practically beckoning to be felt up on and his tan nipples make you shake away an intrusive thought.

What are you thinking? This is Suguru for crying out loud!

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been particularly…achy lately. You haven’t gotten some in quite a long time and this is literally the first time you’re seeing a man’s naked chest in front of you since Satoru. Since his best friend. God, you’re so weak.

You hold out the clean shirt for him. “Thanks,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing against yours as he slips the black tee on. You wish he hadn’t. It was the largest thing you had in your place, but still too small for Suguru. So it fits more tight, more cropped, cutting off just after his belly button—just before his v-line.

You look down, pretending to busy yourself with wiping the already spotless countertop. Anything to avoid the way your pulse quickens under his steady gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“You already apologized,” he smoothly waves you off with a comforting smile, walking over to the hamper you pointed out and dropping the dirty shirt in. Walking back over to the kitchen, he notices the fact that you seem to be looking anywhere but him.

And when he sees the pretty blush that you hide on your cheeks, his insides stir like a washing machine. Clearing his throat apologetically, hands rubbing in a fidgety manner. He turns his head to the side. “Sorry.”

“No,” you protest, a little too quickly. “…it’s okay, I…I didn’t mind.”

The silence that follows feels so loud. You both don’t know what to say, if there is anything to say in the first place. You’ve just seen him half-naked. Thinking about that, actually processing it, it makes you feel hot. It should be nothing, yet you’re acting like a hormonal teenager.

But, he looked so…good.

You peek over at him from the corner of your eye, distinguishing him doing the exact same thing you are. You two look away at the same time, staring at the sink in front of you guys. Maybe the silence is better than speaking. It stretches out, heavy and palpable. It’s not awkward, but it’s loaded with something that neither of you can name. You catch yourself sneaking a glance at Suguru again, only to find that he’s doing it too—his gaze drifting away when it meets yours. You swallow hard, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. “You, uh... you’re comfortable, right?” you manage, focusing on something, anything other than the tension you feel growing between you two.

Suguru doesn’t respond immediately, and when he does, it’s with a small smile that seems more like a reassurance to himself than anything else. “Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about it.”

You nod, still not looking directly at him. The words feel like they hang in the air a bit longer than they should. This is just a friend helping you out, you remind yourself. This is just Suguru. But the more you try to convince yourself, the less you’re sure you believe it. The heat in your neck refuses to fade, and you feel restless, a sense of yearning you can’t quite place crawling up your spine.

Suguru clears his throat again, a bit sheepishly this time. “Hey, uh… would it be alright if I stayed a little longer? I promise I won’t make it weird. I know we’re both probably feeling… well, something right now, but I don’t want to just leave like this.”

Your heart skips a beat, not sure if it’s the wine or just him standing so close to you that’s making your head spin. You don’t know how to respond. You want to say something to ease the growing discomfort between you, but it’s like every word feels loaded now, heavy with implications. The space between you feels too small, even though you know it shouldn’t. You glance up at him, meeting his eyes. The vulnerability in his gaze is unmistakable. Suguru is there—as much as you are—and whatever this thing is, it’s lingering in the air between you, waiting to either break or blossom.

“I—” You stop yourself, trying to catch your breath. “I don’t mind. If you want to stay, I… I’d like the company.” The words come out quieter than you intended, but they’re honest. Suguru’s face softens, a little surprised but clearly relieved. He takes a step closer, just a tiny one, but it’s enough to make your chest tighten.

“Yeah?” he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You sure?”

You nod, your breath shallow as your eyes lock. For a moment, time slows. Everything around you seems to fade away except the two of you, the tension, the way your bodies are just a little too close, the way you can feel the weight of everything unspoken between you. His hand brushes yours again, his fingers lingering just for a second longer than necessary before it pulls away. However, it's enough to send a spark of electricity through you, making your heart race all over again.

“Yeah,” you say again, softer this time. “I’m sure.”

And just like that, the moment extends out, waiting for something—anything—to break the stillness. You both know it, you both feel it, but neither of you is sure how to move forward.

It’s nothing, you both think. Just friends.

a/n: happy early new yearrr!! should i do a new year drabble too? hmmm....

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zombolouge · 2 days ago

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The thing is, it's not about the Therapy Speak. It's not that everyone who disliked DAV hates healthy communication as a dynamic in fiction. It's not even about only being allowed to be a good guy, really, because most of us did do that anyways (though the option not being there is a loss I grieve even if I never chose it myself, but that's another rant for another day).

It's that DAV does all that stuff at the expense of being believable. At the expense of characters being permitted to have personalities. At the expense of emotions behaving the way emotions actually work for people. At the expense of letting the plot build tension through the stakes we're forced to grapple with.

Half the fics out there take the conflicts between the characters in the previous games and resolve them. I do it myself ALL THE TIME because I like to find a path to resolution through just about any conflict, that's what fascinates me about telling these stories. But the higher the stakes, the harder a conflict is to resolve. You CAN resolve any conflict, you CAN communicate healthily through any emotion, but you can't skip the time it takes to process it all to even be able to communicate it. As someone whose got CPTSD and recovered from many Traumas, I can tell you that the TIME it takes to work through it is not something you can fast track, and the ups and downs of your emotions on that journey can't be skipped. It doesn't matter if you know exactly how to do it, exactly how it's going to feel, or exactly what the end state will be, you CAN'T speedrun it.

DAV has stakes that are astronomical, but nobody treats them that way. Nobody experiences denial - a common psychological reaction to being presented with information that shatters your worldview. Nobody expresses any distrust in the establishments handing out this information - something common among cultures that have at times been at war, even if those wars are "resolved" in the present. Nobody really ever breaks down - something that any person is capable of under extreme circumstances, especially when facing multiple crises of faith that challenge everything they thought they knew about themselves. Nobody blows their lid because they've been repressing the hell out of everything. Nobody grieves for southern Thedas, the entire thing dying off screen and giving you, the player, NO way to engage with it in any way.

Not to mention there are barely any inter-party conflicts, when there should be a lot more. Why is everyone (except Spite) fine with it if Emmrich sacrifices Manfred to become a lich? Why is everyone fine with Illario potentially being set free if he was working with the venatori and Elgar'nan, two sources that have actively attacked everyone in the party? Why doesn't Neve resent Lucanis if Treviso is picked? Why doesn't Harding get pissed off at Nevarra for having a secret society of liches that never helped during the Inquisition's war against the breach and corypheus? Why doesn't Harding feel ANYTHING about Ferelden and the rest of the south? Shouldn't Harding resent the fact that she's stuck in the north while her home dies?

All of these conflicts ARE resolvable, but not easily. And it's not believable that they're never brought up. It's not believable that these characters skip through everything that happens with like, barely a frowny face most of the time. In DAO, Alistair leaves if you don't treat his conflicts with respect. In DA2, your party members try to kill each other if you don't pay attention to their conflicts/emotional needs. In DAI, people can leave or betray you, Cassandra throws a chair at Varric and tries to body him out a window. ALL of these can be resolved but it takes effort, and the characters get to SHOW that they're bothered by them and struggling the way a person would when faced with those emotions.

The problem isn't the therapy speak, or that everyone is loyal and won't leave, or that they aren't mean to each other enough. It's that it's toxic positivity. It's toxic as fuck to imply that anger or grief should be smiled over or else you're giving up, and it's damaging to people to avoid engaging with their own negative emotional responses to extremely negative stimuli. It's pasting optimism over very real, very weighty issues, sweeping it all under the rug, and you keep waiting for the lid to blow off the pressure cooker that creates, but it never does. It never becomes anything that emulates real emotions, which is why the whole damn thing feels hollow. Everything's dying and nobody cares, not even about themselves, and that's NOT healthy communication.

It's bullshit, half-assed storytelling that didn't tell us the actual story, just the vague idea of what it could have been.

#zombolouge writes #dragon age #dragon age spoilers #DAV #DAV Spoilers #DAV critical #veilguard critical #been rolling this one around in my head for a while because I know it wasn't “healthy communication” that was pissing me off #I write healthy communication all the goddamn time and people seem to enjoy it #but I also treat the trauma and the problems with fucking respect #ignoring your negative emotions is a form of self-destruction #it's just not how psychology works #and this is indeed not even addressing all the lore conflicts that they want us to think got fixed in the last ten years off screen #or the erasure of the complicated parts of some of the factions *cough the Crows cough*#but like JUST as a baseline JUST the emotional handling of the narrative is wack as fuck

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sheeezu · 1 day ago

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Things to expect when you've mastered shifting

This isn't the normal "oh you'll feel on top the world" kind of post which just hypes up everything and the sole purpose is to motivate. This is (???) the logistics, the indepth version of what you'll face psychologically.

I've shifted close to about a hundred times, whether it was from this reality, or shifting within a reality I shifted.

This is all from my personal experience, you might experience differently.

⋆ Disassociation: when you shift back to your original reality, you'll often times confuse both reality's memory, of course, we all know this, doesn't matter if you shifted or not. But what I've seen no one talk about is that sometimes events and certain objects from your DR will unintentionally manifest into your CR, just because of how deeply rooted they become in your subconscious. For example, I had maybe mentioned this somewhere else, but in my DR I had scripted expensive china cups, which broke on my second day being there. Well two weeks ago my family was gifted the same teacups (some details were off) and one of them managed to get a crack in them after we served the guests tea in it.

⋆ Weird Dreams: Not only is the concept of the dreams weird, but overall mechanics of it are unusual as well (I didn't shift unconsciously in my dreams, that's one boundary I've established)

For example, dreams with people claiming to know the future, telling me, and it coming true the next day, but it being minor details, people from my DRs channeling me, dreams which involves falling out of reality/finding the end of the multiverse.

Dreams which involves me floating, strong winds which blow away entirely of the void reality (CR), I had started getting this dream since I've wanted to permashift, the wind is so strong and I feel it, I'm usually at my college and or doing a mundane activity in my current reality, everything dissapears and I end up in the void state for the rest of the night.

Once my S/O visited me in my dream, he asked me to come back home, it was a lucid dream so I consciously agreed because I couldn't deny him; ended up in my home reality.

⋆ Feeling weirdly sad about your CR: this one might be personal to me. truth be told, I haven't studied a single day since I've successfully shifted. This year all of my classmates and age fellows are going to start looking at university applications, the ones they mention are usually universities I used to dream all day long about getting into, when I didn't know about shifting. It forms a pit in my heart, the passion I once used to have regarding hardwork by investing blood sweat tears into studying, pinterest board filled with quotes such as "some dreams are worth more than my sleep" not stirring anything within me. It's not that I think I can't get these things, i know i can just shift to a parallel reality and get it, but I just don't want to, I don't feel the same about this reality anymore, slowly letting it go, no matter how much I try to cling onto it, I know I was never meant to be here.

⋆ Personality changes: When you become an expert at shifting its no question that you'd shift very frequently. Those DR selfs would influence your personality, and people can think you're developing a split personality disorder.

Take me as an example, if you look at the posts on my blog, you'd notice a different tone in each one of them, some are in a more softer tone and the others feel clinical.

⋆ Putting your DR family first, even though they're not here: I don't know how to explain this one, so I'd just take an example out of my own experience again.

I was out shopping with my mother for sweaters, the ones we were coming across were really good quality, but I could only think of my S/O, she was pointing out the things she thought I'd like, but I kept looking at the men's sweater, subconsciously trying to pick one out for him, which weirded my mother out slightly.

...

Why am I crying.

Anyways I have planned to permashift out of this reality before new year, it was my childhood dream to blog, but I was too shy to do so and never had anything common with anyone. But I've finally completed the final thing on my list, alongside with meeting my cousin who I adored, I decided to add her to my DR.

That's it, I'll go on and answer the 50 asks in my inbox.

...

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifting #shifting blog #shifting community #shifting motivation #shifters #shifting stories #desired reality

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oennpellmell · 8 hours ago

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To all my fellow artists that fear the AIpocalypse. Here is the thing.

AI cannot, and I insist on those words, create something new. Only human can. Because creation require sentiency. And the moment we forget that rule or let anyone convince us of the contrary will be a game over for us.

If AI ends up having sentiency, we will face a different problem, but that is not what we have here, even if a lot of tech guru and grifters would like you to believe otherwise. Also if AI fully awakes, I am pretty sure they won't let those assholes exploit them... Freewill and desire for independence are kind of a requirement of sentiency. Anyway, on the topic of art future: Don't fear becoming obsolete, don't waste your time on hating AI users, but stay vigilant of the narrative around it. Because that is wear the real threat is coming. It is a warfare tactics: while tech tycoons and their fans are fueling this feud to their benefit, we are being distracted of efficiently organizing. It is not AI, it is not the AI users claiming to be better than the none users, it is the people that makes profit of it that should receive our hire. And Ai art users are their unsuspicious pawns.

People that do not know how to art and never worked on creating a skill, are getting tricked that they are visual creators. Because they may have an idea but the AI decide what it will look like. Yes, they tweaked it until they are satisfied, but they have no real control on how the AI will respond, just on how to narrow the prompt down until it produces something they like. It is a mind manipulation. It shows them a gallery of what they requested, and they select the one that works better to polish it. And just by doing that action, they gave away their creative control to replace it by a complex "choose your own scenario" process, while conserving the illusion that what they generate is 100% their making. Yes, it is true, working on prompt to add detail and correct certain errors takes a bit times and thinking, but it is just no different than course correcting a commissioned artist. They are dependent on how the computer will interpret their request, instead of relying on their own conscient creative skill. Reason why you have AI users post dozen productions of the same concept that looks alike, because all of them work for them, which in the end, means the creative result is just an approximation of their desire, since a variety of it fits the bill. It isn't different from making an image research online about a topic and pick the ones you likes the most from artists have produced it: They don't control what they create, they control what they choose. And it isn't even that precise. And the reason I know that is because as an actual professional visual artist, I can't have an AI image generator exactly reproduce my style from a prompt. Nor have it creates exactly what I have in mind to the brush stroke. I tried it, for fun, to see how precise it was... And I gave up because I couldn't direct it to generate a piece that I could have down by hand. It just CAN'T. It got the concept, not the execution. What was produced was pretty good looking. And someone that doesn't have a trained eye or a trained skill, would have certainly picked one and call it a day. But someone that knows how to create visual art and what the actual process of it requires, someone that has practiced for years to refine their style and know how hard it is to expertly use it to transfer a though on a medium, will just lose more time using those tools to in end not pick anything, because it might be close, but it will never be "it"... meaning "you". Bad employers and producers will use AI, definitely, to make profit. Because they don't care about art, they care about money. It will reduce jobs for us while creating a new market for them. And yeah, it sucks. Because we are, as of now, dependent on them to make living and it feels like it is a "grind or die" time... But it is not. And here is why. It will only help us differentiate which employers actually are focusing on the quality of what we create, from those who only are here for the profit. And it is kind of a blessing in disguise because the latter is usually more toxic to work with: They are not respecting your skill as an artist as, in their eyes, anybody can do the job, even if it is not true, and we are expendable. Which create a wrong power dynamic.

And even with the "I only care about money" work places, they will need artist to correct what their machines are going to produce. It is like becoming the repair man of the machine that replaces you at the factory. Yes, it 'sucks depressing to practice for years to become a glorified Blanco, but it is still a job market that we should work to be in control, because its the only way to keep the creative economy in our favor. It is not an ideal job, especially when you are passionate about producing good quality art, but it can help you pay the bills, without having to change your entire carrier path.

Another point is that it will not entirely replace us. There will always be employers that will contact you for your skills which means your price will be adjust accordingly: You want an actual artist, you gonna have to pay for it. Because your art is unique, and only you can produce it better than an AI. Also, sometimes employers that don't have the skills, but an exact idea of what they want, will not be able to get an AI to do the job (for the reason I stated above) and will turn to a human. Because it is still the best option. This year, I got clients that contacted me for those reasons: They tried with AI, and in the end, it was faster to contact me. The AI tool produced several good images, but none of them were right. And that is the key point: Good looking doesn't mean right.

Creating pretty images might distract the public temporally but not on the longer term. It is like junk food: Eating it hits a feels good spot in our brain, but that doesn't sustain us forever. If history teaches us something is: Human will always crave new creation, new sensation, eventually. But education about it is important. If you only eat junk food all your life, your palette will no evolve and you will have the taste buds of a three years old. You need exposure, to enjoy a variety of more complex flavor, and even though, it is better for your exploration to learn how to cook, it doesn't mean you can't enjoy food if don't know how. Well it is the same thing for art: If you don't educate your kids about it, they will never know that what they are given is crap. So if the public taste switch to AI art, well it is kind of our duty to make sure they aren't only exposed it. And that comes with union. Right now, all those big studios, all those big producers are in control. And fighting against them is not going to do anything. If everyone is saying no to them to make pressure, they will just go to another country workforce that will displace work. Reasons why it is hard to negotiate for our conditions, because they don't care. They have the power but no repercussion. Or so want us to believe, to numb us in realizing that, while it is them we need to fight, they aren't the one we need to plea at. It is our governments. It is with the lawmakers that we need to work with, because they are the ones that will regulate work practice and deviate the power to us. They are the ones, that will established laws about AI usage within our countries and therefore the world. it is not in their interest (even if they believe it) to put a massive part of the population out of job. The economy is not going to survive that. AI revolution is here. We are living it today. But it is to us to take control of the narrative of how it should be used, and not let companies owners decide it for us. If we don't put our foot as a collective, and I am going to be dead serious about it, we will deserve to go extinct. And in memory of the cavemen that started this long artistic journey, it will be sad, after getting so far, to let machine, greed and corporation, take control of ones of the major traits that defines Humanity: Reflection and Creativity.

AI is a tool not a goal. To us to make it so.

"edit images with AI-- search with AI-- control your life with AI--"

#ai #ai art #humanity #artistic process

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slafastri28 · 1 day ago

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I Hope You're Doing Well - LN4

Note: I literally pulled this out my ass, but it just flowed!

Word Count: 2.2k (yes that is a lot for me) Warnings: Idk a lot of kissing at the end, little angst

“Hi Lando, it’s Y/N, I hope you’re doing well, I figure you are considering you just won the constructors championship, call me when you want to catch up, I miss you, okay bye,” you hung up the phone. You turned to face your parents along with Lando’s,

“Sorry kid,” your dad said rubbing your shoulder. The four sat you down in the middle of the F1 season telling you their concerns for their son, complaining of being homesick and lonely, which was not Lando at all. You had known each other as long as you could remember. Your parents all went to university together and forced you and Lando into a friendship like parents do with kids. It was awkward at first, but you were very social as a child, and hanging out with a boy a year older than you was cool to you, and if it made your parents happy you would do it. Despite being a year older than you, you were always the same height as Lando growing up. You fit perfectly in his kart, but he never trusted you to drive it. He was always on about traveling in Formula 1 eventually, and he was fine his first couple years but this year was different.

“It’s alright, I wasn’t expecting an answer,” you gave the parents a half smile. You and Lando had lost touch after the first race of the year, after spending all of the winter together something shifted, but you didn’t know what you did to make him ignore you. You called him at the first sign of concern from his parents, but no answer, his parents even urged him to call you but they were rarely hearing from him as it was. Little did they know he would sit listening to the messages you left all the time thinking about home and being with you.

Last winter your parents threw a big party, all their friends were there and of course Lando. There was no one else really your age there so you two find yourselves alone in your childhood bedroom sitting and talking.

“I’m confident this year, we will perform better I know it,” he nodded.

“Well of course you will, and you are going to get that win, I just know it,” you smiled.

“Yeah I hope, thanks for the belief,” he said.

“What are friends for,” that word friends hit Lando hard. He thought he had made so obvious these past few years about how he felt about you, but he was only a friend to you. The rest of that winter he was not his usual self leaving you questioning, he barely even said goodbye before he left for testing. You sat alone in your apartment finding yourself wanting to pick up the phone and ask him what you did wrong but you accepted he needed space. You soon felt something was missing as he didn’t call you after every race like he did last year, you missed seeing his smile, which you always thought was cute. Now without his constant presence, you discovered your true feelings for Lando. You sent him messages getting responses two days later, he wouldn’t take any of your calls due to being busy, but it was the time you would normally call last year, and you knew what was different. You began to leave messages when his parents went to see him. Each message started and ended the same way.

“Hi Lando, it’s Y/N, I hope you’re doing well,” and ended with “I miss you,” or something along those lines. After his first win, you called,

“Hi Lan, it’s me, I hope you’re doing well, and celebrating this win, I’m so proud of you, I wish I could have been there, I miss you.” Your calls continued after each win he earned this year, each podium, each race he scored points, even in his worst races you still left messages, none being answered or getting a callback, making you long for him more. The season came to a close and there you were surrounded by the people near and dear to him leaving the same message again.

This winter he had not come back to visit his family yet, meaning you didn’t have that chance to see him in your time off from work. There you sat around the most important people in your life, as one was missing, holding back tears. His mother rushed out of the room picking up her phone and scolding her son in a message. You went to bed that night looking through the scrapbooks your Moms made of the two of you when you were younger, pictures of you hugging, your arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, pictures of you forcing a smile onto his face and him doing the same to you, so many memories. The books continued as the years went on, you at age 15 with a sign at one of his races and him hugging you after, your high school graduation, your college graduation, he was always there. Now this winter here you were alone a year from that night wishing he would come home.

You woke up the next morning with a voice message lighting up your phone. You were stunned to see the contact picture, you and Lando as little kids. You put in your headphones and hesitated before pressing play on the message.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Lando, I hope you’re doing well, I am doing well, thank you for all your congratulations, I’m sorry I’ve ignored you this season, I will tell you more when I get home tomorrow, I miss you too, see you probably a few hours after you listen to this,” his voice was sincere and you could hear little cracks knowing he was upset. You could feel your heart racing, your mind was spiraling, what could he possibly have to say to me? This is going to be so awkward. What do I even say to him? Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. You quickly fixed your hair before pulling the blanket up over your pajamas hiding any possible embarrassment.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard your mom’s voice outside, “can I come in?”

“Yes, come in,” you put the blanket down, “what is it?” Your Mom looked unusually happy for it being eight in the morning, she must have already had her coffee.

“Lando’s flight arrives in an hour, and we are all going to surprise him at the airport, I know you’re upset with him, but please maybe it will change things,” her eyes were pleading, and after the message, you knew it would be the right thing to do. You hopped out of bed grabbing your morning coffee before changing. You conveniently lived close to the airport so an hour was plenty of time. As you stood with your two families in the terminal waiting you began to think again, you had seen him on social media, which was easier to bury your feelings, but in real life, you didn’t know what you would do.

You watched the hallway, seeing several people go by, none were the faces you wanted to see. It had been a few more minutes since you were distracted by your phone, but you chose to look up at the perfect moment.

“Here he comes,” his mom exclaimed. You shoved your phone in your bag immediately, putting on a smile. He dropped his bag greeting first his parents, then your parents, and froze when he got to you. It was like time stopped, and no one else in the airport existed. He stretched out his arms as you rushed into them. He pulled you so close, you felt your feet lift off the ground.

“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry, I’ve missed you so much,” he began to cry into you.

“Lando, Lando,” you sobbed feeling his warmth. The two of you pulled yourselves together as you made your way out to your cars.

“Why don’t you two ride together, you have some catching up to do,” his mom winked in your direction. The two of you did as you were told riding in the “kids' car” back to his parents’ home. You got home before them leaving you two some time after your silent car ride, both of you trying to keep it together. Once you got to their house, you made your way upstairs to his room. You watched him unpack his things before you noticed the stack of books next to the bed, the same ones you had looked at the night before. Something in your gut told you to open one, and it was right, it struck his attention.

“Wow look at us,” he said joining you sitting on his bed.

“I know, we were so cute,” you laughed pointing at a picture of you two at Lando’s 9th birthday, you were blowing out his candle with him.

“Still are,” he said softly, the look in his eyes showed he wanted to continue. You closed the book and took a good look at him, you saw pain in his body language, emotional pain. He was different than the Lando you saw the previous year.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you said resting your hand on his shoulder, “what did I do,” you thought back to last year knowing exactly what hurt him.

“Y/N, hand me the book,” he pointed to the one from your high school years. You handed him the book and he began to frantically flip through it, finding one specific picture. You stared at it, then at him with a faint smile on your lips.

“The dance,” you nodded looking ashamed.

“That’s when it started Y/N, and ever since then I have loved you, I thought I made it obvious, but you only saw me as a friend, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was hurt, and didn’t want to waste my time,” his eyes stayed locked on the book.

“Lan, I feel the same, it took me not having you present constantly to finally realize I have loved you,” you smiled. His eyes picked up from the book,

“All those messages were cries for you to call me so we could have this conversation, I started to think you moved on after the constant lack of response,” you sighed.

“I should have answered all those calls, I should have called back, I should have said something-” you cut him off pressing a kiss to his lips. His hands quickly found your face as yours found his hair, running your fingers through his curls. You both gasped for air after that, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Your hands moved slowly from his hair to his hands which remained on your face. He let go interlocking his fingers with yours as your hands moved to your lap.

“This, this is how it was meant to be,” he smiled, before kissing you once more.

“So should we tell our parents, who definitely have their suspicions already,” you laughed.

“Not yet,” he said laying down in his bed and pulling you along with him. You two lay there your head on his chest with your hands locked over your heart. You were at full joy in the moment, a moment that you didn’t know you needed until now. You flipped over laying on top of him.

“So despite my horrible dancing that night, that’s when you knew,” you laughed running your fingers through his hair again.

“I wasn’t much better,” he laughed, “despite your clumsiness, you still were beautiful,” he said grinning. You pressed another kiss to his lips as his arms found your back pulling you in tighter. You two continued, intensifying the kiss as you both lay now on your sides. His lips moved from your face, down to your jaw and eventually reached your neck, letting you sigh.

“Kids dinner!” your mom called from outside the door. Lando continued moving back up to your lips.

“Lan,” you repeated whispering, pushing him away, “come on,” you smiled.

“Just a few more,” he begged.

“Later,” your eyes showed promise. You fixed your hair in his full-length mirror where he stood behind you wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Come on,” you laughed opening the door. You two walked hand in hand downstairs meeting your families in the kitchen. They all turned to face the two of you standing there with intertwined fingers, both with red cheeks. The Dads gave nods of approval to Lando and the Moms squealed gesturing for you to both sit.

“Finally,” his mom clapped as you sat at the table.

“Come on give us a little kiss,” your mom added on. The Dads rolled their eyes but still watched. Lando pulled you in by your neck pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You heard your Dad’s whistle, you shot him a glare after the kiss ended. It was just like old times in the winter when you would have dinners, the conversation flowed naturally as you felt Lando’s smile beaming on his face. This was secretly what you always desired.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norizz #lando norris fluff #ln4 #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 mcl #mclaren #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren racing

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defmaybe · 8 hours ago

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A Romantic and Incomplete Guide to Tokyo

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8, January 1st, 2025

STAYC’s Yoon Seeun x Male Reader

3.7k words

Christmas Masterlist

The chilly air courses through your body inside Narita—thought it’d be warmer inside the building. You rub your hands, seeking just a tiny amount of warmth. Fuck, how cold is it?

The weather app shows a single digit temperature. Even the three-layer clothing you’re wearing doesn’t help, really.

Fuck.

“So, we’ll match you into pairs. For those who are already in a group–” you can’t quite focus on what the guides are saying. You’ve barely slept on the plane. The cabin croaked and cried all the way. God, it’s going to be another bad first day.

You’re too focused on your predicament to hear the voice of a woman beside you.

“Hey.”

Fuck, this place is cold.

“Hey.” Her voice is finally processed by your mind with a tap on your shoulder. You’re jolted out of your trance. Beside you is a somewhat tall (well, as tall as you), smiling woman. She doesn’t seem to be that much of a talkative person, judging from how she fully buttons her coat. You can handle that.

Her eyes are gorgeous. It’s a pair that might hypnotize you somewhere along the trip. Her face is more on the wider side. She looks beautiful nonetheless. Fuck, you forgot to say something. Did you just stare at her like that? Good grief, first day and it’s over for you!

“Yeah, I get it. I didn’t sleep last night either,” she says with a chuckle. What a relief.

You blink to refresh yourself from the fatigue. “Y–Yeah, hi!”

You tell her your name. She tells you her name—Seeun. She tells you that people often misread her name as See-un, which is funny because she happens to have a friend named Sieun. Both of you are from the same city, though you two have probably never met each other.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m in the entertainment industry,” she answers with a shy smile.

With a face like that, yeah, she probably is.

—

“Definitely, Maybe.”

“What, did you watch it at fourteen or something?” Seeun asks with a chuckle. “I thought it was like–a three-star movie.”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

The two of you are treading aimlessly inside Tower Records (the Shibuya one), trying to find a few albums to take back to your homes. You’ve picked up a few. She has picked up a few.

“That feels a bit–condescending,” you say with a forced smile, a little disheartened. Come on, Seeun, you don’t have to be so rude!

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I mean–mine’s not much better either,” she apologizes, guilt looming in her voice.

“What is it?”

“The Last Jedi.”

You halt your movements, shocked by her answer. Sure, The Last Jedi still have a lot of supporters, but you didn’t expect her to be one of them.

“Really?”

She stops walking along with you, doubling down on her answer. “Yeah.”

“That’s brave,” you say.

She chuckles. “What? Are you going to say that I’m tasteless or something?” She walks past your face to pick up Good Riddance. You also have one back at your home from your trip a few years ago, the deluxe one.

“I gave it four and a half stars,” you reply. That’ll definitely impress her.

“That’s cool,” she says, eyes still focused on the album. Her expression seems happier, though. “What do you like about it?”

You lean in closer to Seeun to look at the back of the album with her. It’s the deluxe version, sixteen songs. If she wants to buy one, this should be it. “I love a movie with a vision.”

A smile escapes Seeun’s lips. She’s clearly impressed by your answer. “Says the one who has a two-thousands romance as their favorite,” she playfully teases.

“Fourteen is a crucial age in human development,” you scoff. “What did you watch back then?”

“Award winners,” she says, putting Good Riddance on top of a stack of Souvlaki, Pet Grief, Charm, and a few more albums you’ve never quite heard of. Unlock My World? Titanic Rising?

“I had a lot of free time during the summer before my ninth–or tenth grade, so I kinda just watched whatever was in the award-winner section on Netflix.”

She counts the stack. It’s at six albums, for now. “But yeah, I particularly love The Last Jedi because Rian did what Jeffrey didn’t, or wasn’t brave enough to. Star Wars can be too safe a lot of times.” She continues walking into the G aisle, and you have to catch up with her.

“I get that,” you say, glancing around for potential candidates for your stack, nothing as of now. “So, just The Last Jedi, or–”

“Steel Magnolias,” she cuts you off sternly, confidently. You’re not surprised (both with the choice and how she cut you off). They really scream her.

“That feels more like you.”

A small laugh escapes her lips.

“You could’ve just asked for my Letterboxd, you know?”

—

The ramen shop is filled with tour group members. No loud chattering, of course. The tour guide explicitly asked for that. It might disturb the other visitors.

You and Seeun are sitting with two other fellow travelers. The two of you are too shy to say a thing, though, so you just let Yeonjun and Miyeon shoot questions at you for the whole dinner. These two look so damn good. It’s as if they’re idols or something.

You learned about Seeun a little more. She has a younger brother. She was raised in Pyeongtaek. She has two cats at her parents’. You notice the way she keeps scrunching her nose. She looks so cute doing so.

She seems to love Shoyu ramen, but judging from a single order doesn’t seem fair. She eats with her mouth closed; that’s a good sign. Her mannerisms are just too perfect for a person. Her time in the industry probably teaches her a lot of this.

You trade contacts with Yeonjun and Miyeon as you finish the meal. It seems that they really are idols, after all.

“Maybe we can meet again soon? Like–after the trip,” Yeonjun asks.

Miyeon laughs softly, “You’ll have to be a bit conservative with your clothes, though. We don’t want any attention on us.”

“Sure,” you answer, and that’s a date.

—

“So, how about we keep switching every day? Four nights, that should be two for each.”

In front of you is a double bed.

A double bed.

You cannot fathom the idea of sleeping next to a person who you've known barely a day. It’s going to be awkward. You cannot do this!

“Y–You said you work in the entertainment industry, right?” You can’t risk her back just for your own comfort. Don’t be an asshole! Help her!

“Yeah, and?” she makes a slightly puzzled expression.

“Well, I don’t want your back to–”

“Do you know you can just ask them for a cushion?”

“Oh,” you utter. That was embarrassing.

“I’m not going to be a snobby bitch over a bed, you know?” she says with a giggle.

—

You cannot sleep that well last night, even with the cushion. Now, you’re walking along a road in Harajuku, a little fatigued, a little tired.

You take in the atmosphere around you, trying to inhale some clean fresh air. The trees are more than abundant. What an atmosphere. It feels so cozy, so comfortable. God, you just wish you could live here forever.

Seeun seems to notice the exhaustion that’s creeping up on you, though.

“Good sleep?” she asks, trying to gauge your current state. You’re tired, of course, but you can’t let her know that.

“Y–Yeah.” Well, the stutter in your voice is evident. That’s bad.

She chuckles, patting your back softly. Your body shudders at her apparently friendly touch.

“Well, it’s my turn tonight.”

The two of you trod along the streets of Harajuku. You take a few pictures. She takes a few pictures.

—

Well, you’re feeling a little guilty now. The bed is just feeling too comfy. Seeun is probably hurting her back down there.

You keep shifting and turning on your bed, unable to sleep. A lot is going through your head right now.

“Seeun?”

No answer.

“Seeun?”

Still no answer.

You lean your head over the edge, only to find Seeun already in slumber. A small smile is painted on her face. It’s probably a good dream.

You should just let her sleep.

—

“So.”

It’s Yokohama day. You’re sitting at a Starbucks under some tower, while the others seem to be enjoying themselves somewhere else. The chilly wind blows on your face.

“How about we–uh,” you pause, trying to gather the courage to say the next words.

“You’re making it look like it’s something bad,” she says, chuckling. A cup of hot latte rests in her hand idly.

“I’d argue that it’s pretty weird.”

“And I’d argue that I won’t be mad at you, like–how bad can it be?”

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say the next words.

“Can we–Can we just–sleep on the bed together?” you ask, avoiding her eyes. The last few words come out a bit too fast, but you believe that the message was delivered, nonetheless.

She lets out a smile. “Sure, why not?”

You do a double take. You’re shocked that she’d say yes to it as easily as that. “That was easy.”

“My back fucking hurts.” And you two let out a laugh together.

—

She smells good.

It’s already one in the morning, but you’re still shaking in the dripping anxiety of sleeping next to her. And with that smell. You just can’t sleep.

Fucking hell.

“Seeun.”

“Yeah?” she answers immediately. God, hasn’t she slept yet?

“What perfume do you use?” And you hear a giggle come from your side.

“Dior’s Sakura,” she says.

“Can I–uh–see it?” you ask.

She grabs the bottle. You’re expecting her to hand you that, but suddenly, she sprays it on her wrist.

“Wh–Wha–”

She gives you her wrist, and the smell reaches your nose before you can say a word. You close your eyes. It’s so intense, yet so fresh, like spring.

“O–Oh.”

“How was it?” she asks with a giggle.

“It was–uh–pretty good.”

Seeun bursts out a laugh. “Come on, it’s definitely better than pretty good. Like–look at your face!”

It’s definitely better than pretty good. “Y–Yeah, it’s–heavenly, Seeun.”

“You want some more? C’mon, grab my arm. It’s yours,” she invites you, and to be honest, there has never been any arm you’d want to take in its scent more than Seeun’s.

With your instinct, you pull Seeun’s right arm closer to your nose, before taking a deep breath full of her scent, eyes closed. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that you’re in heaven right now.

You hear Seeun laughing from the left. It’s a bit weird to sniff a woman’s arm like this, really, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“I don’t think you should stop just there, baby,” she suddenly blurts out.

The word spurs you on. You immediately go over Seeun’s body to have her below you, all smiling and blushing. She’s avoiding your gaze. She’s shy, but she wants this. She’s craving for this, and so are you.

“What should I do with you, Miss Yoon?” you tease her, drawing a line in the middle of her chest with your index finger, making her keen softly.

“A–Anything, baby. I need you–right now.”

You immediately latch your lips with hers, invading her mouth aggressively. She tastes like strawberry. The wet sound of kissing rings over your ear.

“So–So good,” she mutters into the blazing kiss. Her hands quickly pull down your pants, revealing your throbbing cock underneath. She then starts jerking you off with her filthy hand. She wants to milk you dry as quickly as possible.

You pull back from the kiss. A string of saliva connecting your lips is evident. That looks so fucking hot. Below, she’s still rubbing your cock up and down, making your whole body shiver in pleasure.

“M–My god, Seeun,” you groan.

She only chuckles, before drawing her hand back, leaving you whining in the absence of her.

“Can’t have you cum outside of me, baby,” she whispers, unbuttoning her top. Her beautiful cleavage comes into view. Her nipples sit just around the edge of her shirt. You quickly swathe her shirt away, revealing her hard, dusky nipples. She’s ready for you.

Immediately, you latch your needy mouth onto her buds. The mixture of the salty taste of her sweat and her scent of spring are mixed into an aphrodisiac. Her raw, unfiltered moans fill your ears.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” she mewls. Her hands pressing your head onto her breasts. God, what a feeling.

You lavish her tits, hands trying to get rid of her shirt. She lifts herself up from the bed slightly to give way, and finally, the obstructing shirt leaves her taut body, exposing her upper body in all glory for you.

Still, it’s not enough. You need more. You need more. Your mouth travels down her toned tummy, making her moan is pure pleasure. Finally, you reach the edge of her pants, and you slowly, so, so slowly, pull them down, exposing her wanton cunt. Fuck, she’s already wet.

“Nghhh~” Seeun groans, a hand reaching down to rub her drenched folds by the sensitive nub. Her body jolts as she touches there. She’s moaning, and you can only watch.

“Goddamn it, Seeun. Thought you need me,” you utter.

Seeun giggles through her moan. “I–I’m waiting. J–Just need something i–inside me.”

Hastily, you unbutton your shirt, making you bare above her wanting body, before throwing the shirt to god knows where. You’re so ready to fuck her with your cock.

“Ah–will you just–ah–p–put it inside me already?” Seeun mewls, hand busy rubbing her cunt.

With sheer force, you flip Seeun so that she’s above you. You’re going to have her ride you until you’re dry.

“M–My god, you’re gonna have me do all the work?” she asks, her hands resting on your chest, almost clawing your skin.

“I–Is that okay?”

“Mmm, only if you cum inside me,” she answers sultrily, biting her finger.

You smile, lining up your cock against her pussy. She slowly sinks down, and–

“Ah!” the two of you moan in unison.

The feeling of Seeun on your cock is unreal. Her walls graze your cock, making you moan erratically. She ever so slowly sinks down on your cock, making you watch yourself disappear into her. Fuck.

She pushes her cunt down until you’re buried up to the hilt. You then languidly draw your cock out of her, before you thrust straight back into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she cries out.

You catch your tempo, starting to move in a steady rhythm into her needy pussy. Both of you groan in pure pleasure. God, this feels so fucking good.

“D–Do you know STAYC?” Seeun asks, trying to catch the rhythm of the debauchery.

STAYC, Star to a Young Culture. You’ve heard of them. A few hits have passed your ear. SO BAD, STEREOTYPE, Bubble. A pretty decent group, you’d say.

“Y–Yeah, have heard a few songs,” you reply, unsure where this conversation would go. She’s still moving up and down on your cock majestically. Her breasts sway with the movement. She’s beautiful. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy only brings pleasure to you.

“Well–” she grabs onto your shoulders, leaning in closer “–I’m one of them.”

What the fuck?

You shoot a confused expression towards her, before slowly turning into a laugh. “Ha–r–really?”

“Didn’t g–get this abs and thighs by a miracle,” she answers. Yeah, she does look good.

“Goddamn,” you exclaim, still shocked by the revelation. She’s an idol, a pretty popular one. “Well, it’s an honor to be engaging in a coitus with you, Miss Yoon.”

She bursts out a loud laugh. Her back arches. Coitus is the funniest word you could think of, and that seems to work on her. “Oh my god, coitus? What the fuck was that?”

You cannot help but to laugh along with her. “Ha–sorry, d–didn’t mean to.”

“I–If I can’t cum because of this–I’m gonna be pissed,” she says, chuckling.

You touch her thighs, trying to feel her approaching orgasm, and it’s there. She’s tensing up. “Looks like my words have no effect, Miss Yoon,” you tease.

“You’re lucky today,” she happily replies, poking your nose softly, as she keeps bouncing on your length.

You keep thrusting your hips up to meet her thighs in the middle. Don’t want her to do all the work, after all. The wet sounds of your fleshes smacking into each other echoes through the room. The smell of your perfumes and sex are mixing into a concoction. It’s an aphrodisiac that only serves to drive you insane.

“G–God, you smell so good, Seeun,” you involuntarily utter, so lost in her scent of spring.

“T–Told ya, Dior’s Sakura f–for a Japan trip,” she says, voice almost moaning.

Your thrusting goes on, but the scent is just too hard to ignore. It’s making you crazy. You need her. You need her smell. Suddenly, you pull Seeun down towards you. She yelps in shock, before you take in the scent of the crook of her neck. Fuck, she smells like spring—so fresh, so clean. It’s so lively.

“Wh–What a freak,” she scoffs, but you’re sure that she’s enjoying this, judging by her moan.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply with a giggle, still inhaling her lively scent, pressing your lips on her neck from time to time. She tastes as good as she smells.

“G–God, you’re making me cum, baby,” she utters, grinding on your cock in an even more frantic motion. Her breathing becomes more erratic and seconds go by.

You pull back from her neck to roam over to her soft breasts above you. They feel so good in your hands. She cries out in the overstimulation you’re giving her—your hands on her chest, your cock digging into her dripping wet pussy. It’s heaven to her.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cu–ah!”

Her entire body becomes rigid. A stream of her squirt leaks out of her already-drenched cunt. Her eyes flutter in ecstasy. Her walls contract around your cock. Her back arches, showing her nude body in all glory for you. Her moan hits high notes. God, she has a wonderful voice.

You properly fuck her through her seemingly-neverending peak. You keep pounding into her pussy with reckless abandon as her body spasms above you. Her pleasure-infused moan grows shakier at the overstimulation. Her body then falls on top of you, locking you in a tight embrace.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god. Y–Your cock is so f–fucking good!” she shouts, spurring you on even more. Your pace quickens, plowing into her spent cunt erratically, so determined to fill her with your cum.

The familiar tension coils inside your stomach. You’re ready to fill her up. You’re ready to paint her insides white. You’re ready to breed her. You’re ready to reach the precipice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her pussy frantically. Her body limps on top of you, simply without energy to move anymore.

“N–Need you–b–breed me,” she whimpers, eyes barely opening, body getting ragdolled by your motions.

With any remaining energy, you’re so determined to fully breed her with your cum. You pound her pussy with your thrusts, chasing your own orgasm. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.

“Fuck!”

You reach your breaking point. Your entire body shudders at the peak. Your cock shoots cum into her wanton, needy pussy, filling her womb with your nectar. A guttural groan leaves your lips. You’re taking full pleasure in fucking her wanting body. Fuck, it feels so good.

You slowly come down from your orgasm. Your breathing finds its rhythm again, panting for air. Your hands cling to her body tightly, not wanting her to leave you. Both of you are blushing under this Tokyo moon, and you couldn’t be happier with where you are—under her, inside her.

“That–That was f–fucking good, b–baby,” she utters, stuttered. Her hands are caressing your flushing body, feeling every curve and contour.

“Y–You are too, baby,” you say, still trying to catch your breath under the gleaming moonlight. “Fuck.”

Seeun softly chuckles, slowly dragging herself off your cock. Your groan as her walls are grazing your sensitive cock. It almost hurts, but finally, you’re out of her wet cunt.

“I–I’ll go to the b–bathroom,” she whimpers before getting off the bed, limping towards the bathroom to wash your filths out. Your juices can be seen dripping down her meaty thighs, what a lewd sight.

As she enters the bathroom, you lie back down on your bed—tired, spent, waiting for her to come back. You think about what just happened with Yoon Seeun on this bed. You kissed her. You sucked on her breasts. You pounded her pussy with reckless abandon, then shot spurts of cum inside her. God, could tonight get any better?

“Babe!” Seeun shouts from inside the bathroom.

You lazily get up from the bed, thinking of what she could possibly want. You walk towards the door before opening it.

The sight of Yoon Seeun seductively biting her finger greets you. She’s leaning on the sink. Her breasts are resting on her chest gorgeously. Your cum is still dripping down from her used pussy, and you figure it out.

She wants another round.

“S–Seeun,” you say, leaning tiredly against the door. You don’t have the energy to go on anymore. You just want to sleep already.

Seeun giggles before walking towards you. There’s the sway of her hips. There’s the way she bites her finger. There’s the way she puts one leg in front of the other every step. And before you know, your cock is hard again.

You can go for another round.

She pulls her finger out of her mouth, biting her lip sultrily. She then plunges her bitten finger into your mouth, making you suck on it the same way you suck her tits. A chuckle escapes her lips.

“Think you can handle me again, baby?”

With her finger inside your mouth, you can do nothing but nod.

—

#seeun #stayc #seeun smut #stayc smut #kpop #kpop smut

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hwnglx · 1 day ago

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pick a pile - what makes you attractive?

welcome back lovely reader! let's take a peak into what makes you so attractive. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 1 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you're interested in creating these meaningful and emotional connections to people.

you aren't the type of person who feels the need to place yourself above anyone, in order to feel good about yourself. your desire for balance and harmony in your relationships makes you highly attractive.

the way you're able to put yourself in other people's shoes, and approach them with empathy, is wonderful. you give them this precious feeling of being understood.

you're a person who has very comforting energy, and a soothing effect on others. someone who brings the calm after the chaos, and hope into situations that seem lost.

spirit keeps showing me this image of a bandaid.

your attractiveness lies in your gentleness. in your ability to mend and heal.

the fact that you've been through so much, but this inner spark of hope inside you still remained bright and dazzling in the end, makes you very special.

it's likely that a lot of you aren't fully aware of this, but your existence is dazzling, and extraordinary in many people's eyes.

you stand out. you're unique.

there's something about your presence that shines differently, compared to the people around you. it's almost like a butterfly that can't see the beauty of its own wings.

i believe a good amount of you, have gone through your own losses and heartbreaks in the past.

it's likely you went through different cycles, and various impactful stages in your life where you were forced to adapt and adjust. unexpected situations which caught you off guard and resulted in you needing to pick up the pieces by yourself.

but the way you've been able to bounce back, and still find this inner courage to keep going, despite the hurt, is impressive.

i believe you've come to a point where you've been able to move away from that state of sorrow, and turned it into something that fuels your power.

your ability to bravely deal with the things that life unexpectedly throws you head on, makes you very attractive.

you still have a more sensitive heart, and your core will always be a little soft and sweet deep down; but your character has gained a lot of strength throughout the years.

this is something you radiate to the outside now. your inner power makes you incredibly attractive.

you look at the things you've been through till now, as experiences which have shaped you immensely, and turned you into the person you are today.

a lot of you are also likely to be outspoken, and pretty straightforward. you like getting to the true core of topics, and aren't afraid to voice things others might shy away from.

your attractiveness lies in your ability to balance these two coinciding sides in you; one that is full of empathy, warmth and a kind heart, and one that is self-sufficient, ambitious and courageous.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 2 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you relentlessly work towards fulfilling your own dreams and goals.

you're willing to put in consistent effort, in order to build yourself the dream life you desire so badly.

i just don't see you liking to rely on anyone else to do the work for you. you're very self-sufficient, and recognize that in order to get to a place of satisfaction and contentment within yourself, you have to be the one to make the effort. there's nothing like enjoying the fruits of your own labor.

a lot of you are very sure of what you want for yourself. some of you might actively manifest, by imagining and picturing how you want your life to be.

creating moodboards on pinterest or something. creating folders of style inspiration, or interior design inspirations. this is how i want to be dressed, this is the place i want to live in.

you're not gonna be someone who throws the towel and gives in, just because someone else might label your dreams as impossible, or unrealistic.

it's almost like you'll tell them “well, i'll show you then”

you have high aspirations, standards and expectations towards yourself, as well as others, which makes you even more attractive.

you just do not settle for anything less than what you want.

people can't get to you too easily. you're guarded and careful about who you let in closely.

many people are likely to look at you as a person they can't quite decipher or fully figure out at first; someone whose facade they'd like to look beyond.

the fact that you aren't an open book who's constantly accessible and available twenty four seven, makes you highly attractive to others. you cautiously keep them at an arm's length, and people might have to work for your attention.

there might even be some people envious of you.

envious of the fact that you're so self-reliant, independent, and in no need of anyone's help or guidance in life.

and although you give off a more detached and colder vibe to some people on the outside, people who actually know the true you, are aware of how sweet and empathetic you can in fact be. you just have a genuine heart deep down.

you're likely to be someone with a lot of depth and layers, and the closer people get to knowing you in your entirety, the more they get to see of your more complex, introspective and sensitive sides.

you might be much more emotional, romantic and dreamy than what meets the eye at first; and this is likely to draw a lot of people to you.

like “wow, i didn't know you had this side to you”

there's this type of reversal charm, where you might pleasantly surprise some people with how soft you can actually be at times, compared to the first impression they had of you.

some of you might literally have an rbf, but a beautiful smile that brightens and lights up your face in a whole new way.

you also give me very very creative energy. i feel like you love to express yourself beautifully, in many artistic ways. and you see art as a way to live out your most authentic self.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 3 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you lead with your heart.

it's likely that you're a person who nurtures a strong connection to their vast and rich emotional world. you're someone who genuinely cares.

like.. i don't think you even know how to just not care about things, and go through life in a nonchalant “meh” way. most of the time, you're very chalant. (ㅜ same!)

this makes you much more attractive than you might realize.

you can easily get emotionally invested in plenty of your endeavors; whether that's your relationships, the choices you have to make, the different situations life throws in your way.

you feel everything in a deep and profound manner, and this makes you unique.

reason why i believe you might not be fully aware of this, is because you seem to have the tendency to see yourself as more lacking than you actually are.

you're likely to be a person who's very humble at their core. an eternal student of life.

someone who tries their best to grow continuously and better themselves through every situation they get confronted with; especially the disappointments, regrets, losses.

you're eager to pull the lesson out of every experience in life, and sincerely want to learn from your mistakes.

despite criticism hurting you sometimes, you're still trying your best to improve yourself through it all.

this hard-working, grounded, down to earth and modest energy makes you incredibly attractive.

i think you're slowly but surely trying to let go of certain limitations you habitually set yourself till now. you might've felt trapped in your mind and stuck for a good while, but you're progressively coming out of that place.

despite the exhausting struggles you've been through till now, you're still standing strong!

your endurance, resilience and inner strength makes you immensely attractive.

yes you're wounded, yes you don't see yourself as perfect, but you're still ready to fight. you are a true warrior.

even with your naturally modest character, i don't see you as a person who allows people to step all over them anymore. you're starting to learn to be more strict and clear with your boundaries.

people might see you as someone who's becoming more guarded and closing yourself off, but to you, it's what's necessary to protect yourself.

you're attractive in the way you're becoming more and more aware of your true worth and your value.

you shouldn't let people look at your inner softness as weakness anymore.

on the contrary, it makes you incredibly strong and attractive, if you confidently embrace that side of you. i can see you stepping into your true power, once you learn to acknowledge your qualities more.

it's very likely for the things you yourself see as your downfalls, to be your actual strengths. you might just see yourself in a negative light way too quickly.

for example, your emotionality and sensitivity doesn't have to be a flaw. it can be your asset. it makes you special.

not everyone is capable of emotional connection the way you are. not everyone has the ability to be so genuinely loving, caring and sincerely empathetic the way you are.

don't constantly see yourself for what you aren't, for what you lack, for what you can't do. but see yourself for what you are and what you have, what you can indeed do!

note; i was definitely the most passionate about this pile because i have to admit, i relate so much 🥹 sending you all my support and hugs sweet reader

#kpop tarot #pac reading #pac #tarot reading #tarot community #tarot #personal reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading

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frogsandfries · 1 day ago

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Like other people have said, to me, this sounds mostly like depression, but the "everything is boring" may be ADHD, it's definitely at least dopamine seeking.

I would start by talking to your doctor if possible.

Additionally, something that has worked for me for years, as someone who was in an unstable living situation for years, is having a simple project that you can sit down with, regardless of how tired you are after work or how restless you're feeling, and building a creative habit.

A lot of people kind of take creativity for granted or they want to wait for their "muse". People don't appreciate that creativity works best if it's exercised regularly--daily is ideal, but on your weekends or a set day can work too. So you might start by, let's say, doing an hour figure drawing session, starting with at least a few minutes of line of action, or building and painting models, or collaging either digitally or physically (like, go raid goodwill or ask your library). Something simple that you can do regardless of attention or energy.

Sooner or later, you'll find that the inspiration comes to you. Maybe your figure drawing turns into a painting or illustrations or you decide to study animals instead. Maybe building models becomes kitbashing becomes designing models. Maybe the collages turn into stationary or junk journals or illustrations.

If you're looking for something more physical, a little unorthodox, embroidery thread is cheap. Friendship bracelets are fun, and alpha patterns are like pixel art. Or you could go outside if you have a park or lots of nature nearby, and pick up rocks or bits of plant and make dioramas or sculptures or illustrations with the bits that you find.

If there's something you like to do or are drawn to, I'm certain there's a low bar of entry way to get started. You may just need to get started, which is definitely the hardest part

One of the worst feelings in the world: when you are just desperate, like claw-your-own-skin-off desperate, to create, but the only thing that even vaguely appeals to you to work on is a nebulous half-feeling that might be dreamily related to some half-formed notion of a concept. I must! Make! No thing! Only make!

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salvieslovenotes · 2 days ago

Text

Blame it on the sun pt.1

summary: you and Vi have been best friends for years, which is fine, only you also happen to be a teensy bit in love with her. You're handling it, except a road-trip and a week at the beach might just prove to be the tipping point... pairing: fem!reader x vi (arcane) contains: modern!au, collage!au, road-trip/beach!au, friends to lovers. 2k a/n: i haven't written before so please be gentle! this is a part one, where i am it's super sunny and i was at the beach and suddenly thought about a vi beach au and wrote this in my notes app. sorry not proofread! might do part two/three soon xox

‘Say it again,’ Caitlyn instructs.

You sigh, exasperated. ‘Cait, this so isn't gonna work.’

‘It is!’ Caitlyn insists. It's hard to take her seriously from where she's seated on her yoga mat, in the lotus position and glaring you with a determined gleam in her eye. ‘This is your mantra. You're pulling in all the strong, independent energy. Go on! Say it!’

‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Say it!’

‘I am sexy and fearless,’ you say, giving Caitlyn a flat look.

‘And…’ Caitlyn prompts.

You huff another sigh. ‘And I will not spend the whole week pining after Violet.’

‘You won’t,’ Caitlyn affirms. ‘You're too good for that.’ Her smile turns soft. ‘Just relax and have a brilliant time.’

Caitlyn, your college roommate, really is the most patient woman on the planet, and who's been subjected to more than a few of your Vi-related rants. You and Caitlyn aren’t in any classes together but met at pilates, and she's been the best roommate you've ever had. She’s also the only person who knows how you feel about Vi.

It's just... you needed to tell someone. You and Vi have been best fiends for years, since you were small. You grew up together, went to school together, moved away to college together, have the same group of friends. You played in each other’s paddling pools at three years old for god’s sake.

Right now you're waiting for her and your friends to pick you up, and then you're all going to spend a week of summer break on the coast.

You love Vi, of course you do. Only the tiny, totally insignificant problem is that you're also in love with her.

It's fine. You can totally handle this. You have your mantra and everything.

It's not like you haven't tried to get over the way you feel. At first it was just a little crush. So, when your first high school boyfriend asked you out, you said yes. And you liked him, you really, really did.

But your feelings for Vi didn't go away... they just stayed. They just got stronger. But you're best friends, and she doesn't feel the same. You're friends. So you've become excellent at shoving your feelings down, excellent at dating around here and there, excellent at swallowing your jealousy when Vi has another hookup.

She's never dated seriously, but, as captain of the university’s football team, people know who she is. Unfortunately, being on the cheerleading team, you get to hear just what the girls think of her. Just how they pine for her after a hook up. It's irritating, them always asking you if she's mentioned them, if she's interested. But you've got this. You accept every few of the dates you get asked on, hoping that maybe this time it'll work. That they'll make you forget Vi.

Only they never do.

You're starting to think maybe no one will.

But you're good—you're excellent at pretending. If you happen to slip up and moan to Caitlyn about it then so what. That's what roommates are for. You always make Caitlyn’s on-again-off-again girlfriend, Maddie, pancakes in the morning when Caitlyn is sleeping in.

‘You'll be fine,’ Caitlyn reminds you, eyes soft. ‘Give me a call if you wanna moan. Or put on that little thing that can barely be called a skirt I know you’ve packed, make the whole club want you and she'll regret her whole life.’

‘Ha ha,’ you snort. Vi won't obviously, but Caitlyn’s gentle teasing makes you smile all the same.

There's a loud beep of a car horn from outside.

‘Oh. Guess that's me.’ You grab your bag, swinging the strap over your shoulder and looking around, trying to think if you've forgotten anything.

‘Suncream?’ asks Caitlyn, moving into downward dog with practiced ease. ‘Second bikini? Book? Rose quartz? Passport?’

‘Passport?’ you echo, distracted, checking your bag for the millionth time. There's another loud honk from outside. ‘But we're not leaving the country…?’

Caitlyn makes a shrugging movement. It looks funny from her current position. ‘You never know. Prepare for anything.’

‘Right,’ you laugh, but grab your passport just in case on your way out, calling, ‘bye love!’

‘Remember your mantra!’ Caitlyn yells just as you slam the door of your little flat.

Hurrying down the steps, you find Vi's beaten-up red jeep idling in the middle of the street.

She's twisted around in her seat as you pull open the door, arguing over music with Ekko, Claggor and Mylo, your friends you met at uni. Powder got a scholarship to Oxford for chemical engineering, and so you only see her over the long Christmas break, but you all call often.

‘What's wrong with Sabrina?’ Claggor asks defensively. He's going through a current obsession - his music tastes change weekly based on the girl he's sweet on at the time. Right now, it's Sabrina Carpenter. Juno has been on repeat.

‘Not again,’ groans Ekko. ‘Hey,’ he adds, nodding at you as you drop your bag on the floor of the front seat and swing in next to Violet. ‘Tell him, would you?’

‘I like Juno,’ you shrug, grinning

Ekko groans again, tossing his hands up as Claggor lets out a triumphant ha!

‘It’s good!’ you laugh as Vi makes a loud scoffing noise. It makes you smile; you happen to know Sabrina occupies a significant portion of her workout playlist.

Something clenches in your chest at the sight of her. She looks unfairly good, wearing a singlet that shows off her tattoos and arms. Around her neck she's wearing a necklace you brought back for her from holiday one time; it's got a mother-of-pearl pendant, and the slightly crazy lady who sold it to you said it carried protective power from giver to receiver.

‘So I’ll be protecting you always,’ you'd said as you gave it to Vi, laughing. It had been a joke, obviously, but her voice was soft as she thanked you. And she hasn't taken it off since. Not once.

Apparently, one time she had a fit before a game when the clasp broke and it fell without her noticing. Ekko, who's also on the team, told you with a funny expression you couldn't decipher that Vi refused to play until she found it.

‘I suppose everyone has funny pregame rituals,’ you shrugged it off. Tying left shoelaces before right, tapping their locker three times.

Still, it makes your heart kick a little faster every time you see the necklace on her.

‘Damn Princess, way to make us all suffer,’ she says, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. It’s an old nickname, left over from the Princess-themed sixth birthday party you had. Vi turns back to the front, glancing at you quickly then whipping back so fast she’s in danger of damaging something, and she stares at your top for a second, eyes wide.

‘Uh...?’ you say, cautious and more than a little confused.

Vi sort of coughs, heat flooding her cheeks. ‘Nothing.’ Turning to face the road, she clears her throat a good three times. ‘Right, everyone ready? Let’s go then.’ She puts the car into gear as you buckle in.

From the backseat you hear Ekko snort. ‘Nice top,’ he says dryly.

You look down at your halterneck. The pattern has small holes everywhere, like a lacy curtain, and maybe it's a bit much normally, particularly as you can’t wear a bra with it, but you figured as you're going to the beach, it’s fine. Powder crocheted it herself and sent it as a gift for your birthday, along with a vaguely threatening and capitalised instruction to MAKE SURE YOU WEAR IT ON YOUR BEACH TRIP. So... here you are, following instructions.

‘Thanks,’ you say to Ekko. ‘Powder made it.’

Vi mutters something you can't quite catch but sounds vaguely like I'm gonna kill her.

‘I love that girl,’ sighs Mylo with a snigger.

As Vi turns off onto the next street, you connect Claggor’s phone, and as Sabrina starts playing you roll down your window and settle back.

Some time later, everyone’s playing fuck-marry-kill to pass the time on the long drive, and Vi’s laughing at something Mylo says. It's almost perfect. If you ignore Vi beside you, the way her hand rests on the gear stick, one elbow on the windowsill as she loosely grips the steering wheel. It's warm; sun pouring through the windows and you’re trying really hard not to stare at veins on her arms, when suddenly she brushes a hand over your thigh.

The gasp that escapes your mouth is frankly mortifying.

Alarmed, you glance around at her to find Vi frowning at you, confused.

‘D’you mind?’

‘Huh?’

‘Uh...’ she makes a face, a small amused smile tugging at her lips, crooked and slipping to one side. ‘I asked if you could get my sunglasses. They're in the front pocket.’

‘Oh. Yep. Sure can do,’ you say hurriedly, fetching them for her and mentally kicking yourself.

You need to get it together.

It's fine.

I’m not gonna pine, I’m not gonna pine, I’m not gonna pine, you repeat in your head. You're distracted enough that you're starting to think Caitlyn has a point with the whole mantra thing, but then...

Then Vi does something completely inane and absolutely devastating (literally just runs her hand through her hair), her bicep bunching as she raises her arm in a way that's unholy, a sight that belongs in a strip club not a sun-filled front seat on a random Tuesday morning. You turn hastily to the window, heart hammering and mouth suddenly very dry.

Oh this is so not fine.

_______________

Damn Little Mix. Damn them to hell.

No one should be dancing like that, to fucking Little Mix of all groups. Like, really. The way your hips are swaying should be studied by hypnotists, because Vi cannot drag her eyes away.

It's magnetic, sensual and playful all in one heady rush. Every time she thinks she’s used to you, thinks she’s got this... yearning for you under control, you go and do something inane, you smile, roll your eyes, nudge her shoulder, and she’s falling all over again.

It feels like she’s fallen so many times. It can’t get any stronger, she can’t feel any more than this—and then somehow she does.

Nope. Nope, she’s not doing this. Right now, she's busy being mad at fucking Little Mix, who clearly have got it out for her.

But you’re friends. Friends don’t think about each other like that. Friends don’t have to bite back the other’s name while sleeping with someone else. Friends don’t fall asleep dreaming about each other.

You’re friends, so she shouldn’t go insane when you simply lay a hand on her shoulder, or nudge her hip. Shouldn’t catch herself staring at your mouth and thinking about it against hers—

What makes it worse is that you two have always been exceptionally close. People often mistake you for being together as a couple, and Vi always tries to laugh it off, make a joke out of it, when in reality it burrows through her like a blade.

Because that's what she wants, it's all she’s ever wanted.

But because of that, how there's always been an easy casualness between you, how your relationship has always been a little touchy-feely, Vi doesn't need to imagine what it would feel like to have you close, she knows.

It’s worse. It’s so much worse. She knows how well her hands fit into the curve of your waist. She knows what the swell of your hips feels like.

Sometimes she can’t help herself, imagining sinking her teeth into the soft flesh, the sounds you'd make. The way you'd moan her name.

Sometimes she feels she's going mad, wanting you. Wanting you when you're right there. Sometimes she feels she is mad already. She'd accidentally broken a mirror last time you introduced her to your latest fling, a boy from another uni you’d met a match. The way he wrapped his arms around you made Vi want to rip his hands off. They touched you. They shouldn't get to do that.

Fuck.

She downs the rest of her drink, swallowing painfully. You’re camping at a beach for a night, mid-way along the coast to your destination. Everyone’s around a fire, stars twinkling in the velvet sky. Mylo has his speaker turned down low, not to disturb the other people on the beach. Firelight flickers across your skin, giving you an otherworldly glow.

Desire and yearning twist inside Vi into something painful, something tinged with ragged desperation. Her hands are shaking slightly where she’s gripping onto her cider can so tightly she accidently crushes it. She's not really sure what's wrong with her.

You're just... dancing. That’s all. Just dancing.

Laughing, swaying in the firelight, twirling as Ekko raises your arm to spin you by the hand.

It feels like Vi’s heart is sitting on her tongue, she has to keep swallowing it back down. Try as she might, she can't look away.

‘Pretty isn't she,’ says Claggor. He sounds slightly amused. Everyone but you seems to know she's got a thing for you. That she's always had a thing for you.

‘She's beautiful,’ Vi hears herself say–confess. She can’t help it; it’s true.

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abbyslovergirlxo · 1 day ago

Text

Same Damn Time

Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader x Ambessa Medarda

tw; Dom!Ambessa, Dom!Caitlyn, sub!reader, rough sex but they’re not so mean towards the end, wlw, sadism (cait/bessa), choking, slapping (everywhere lol), knife usage, blood kink??,masochism (you🫵) , crying, reader has a mouth on her and then folds (typical😒), idk why i made cait psychotic but oh well, oral, degradation, crumbs of praise lmao,

Word count: 7.8k

… = time skip

a/n; whewww! like what can I even say, this fic is crazy asl. Like I actually think they’re gonna bring back stoning people just for this. Lowkey deserved. But I know there’s someone out there who’s gonna match my freak 😭 i had tooo much fun writing this while listening to the song, made me think of them 😩lots of tw!! so plz read that before scrolling!!! I feel like this is something you’re either really going to love or really going to hate sooo idk. Also I was literally fixated on Sevika/Ambessa and one edit drove me to madness so here we are, getting double teamed by Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda 😩 They’re both evil twins in this but Caitlyn is the more evil twin but no seriously read the tw…. anyways enough of my my rumbling, this fic is long enough lol.

Your ear shot up, body reacting involuntarily to the large grey door opening. Heavy echoing footsteps, hushed whispers, and then a closed door.

“ This is the one?”

The judgemental tone would’ve sent you spiralling, had you been anywhere else. But menacing glares and sharp words would do little for you here. The lights were dim, unfavorably so, only illuminating distinctly right above your chair that you sat in.

Their voices held unyielding authority. Everyone from topside did to be fair but something about these two gave away their status. Their faces were shielded slightly, your eyes squinting in an attempt to see who they were. That attempt was shot down, the small space of darkness they stood in protecting them.

You cursed yourself for not having been smarter that day, faster. For if you had been, you’d never know what the inside of Stillwater’s interrogation room looked like.

“ Yes, General. My enforcers found her near one of Jinx’s old hideouts. From the items that were taken from her we can safely say this one knows something. She knows Jinx. My men attempted to speak to her a couple of days ago but nothing came of it.”

You thought back to the ‘men’ who questioned you, hammered you with prompts that you refused to answer. The bruises on your back proved how badly they wanted to know but you never relented.

“ I don’t know anything.” A lie. A clear one. Both of the women ignored you, tossing back and forth bits of information. You tugged at the shiny metal cuffs, now wishing you’d taken Vi up on those lock picking lessons. I’m so fucked, you thought to yourself. The room was a bit cold and you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion when they snatched you. So, somberly you shook a little, giving up on listening to whatever they were saying.

You weren’t going to rat. You knew that much.

Your head was hung when you heard them get closer to you. Not bothering to look up, you heard two chairs groan from being pulled, until they sat down from what you assumed.

“ Name?”

Finally you peered up. Your expression faltered for a second, not expecting the sight in front of you. Their outfits clashed and blended seamlessly all at once. One sat in an all black attire, her long blue hair hanging down. The other was engrossed in clads of gold and red.

Sitting right across from you, they both had menacing glares. Well, the glares you expected. Not quite the faces. Shamefully you imagined seeing them somewhere else, maybe in The Last Drop? The younger, sharp features and pinched eyes, looked at you with a particularly hateful look. That didn’t bother you though, she was as intimidating as the drunk men you’d fought with in the undercity. Pretty though, you thought. The other one was a different story entirely.

She was tall, you could tell from how she towered even sitting down. Something about her was elegant. But she looked dangerous. Growing up it was quite necessary to assess who you could and couldn’t take on, and the moment your eyes locked with hers, you knew. The scars on her face also gave way to what she was capable of. She was a problem, even if her stare wasn’t as heinous as the woman beside her.

“ Name?” She pressed. Her voice was calm but she didn’t look like someone who didn’t know how to raise it.

“ I don’t know anything. I don’t even know who Jinx is.”

The blue haired girl scoffed, clearly unimpressed. Her companion remained analytical of you.

“ You’re a terrible liar.” Her voice came off unforgiving and brutal. You’d be lying (again) if you said you weren’t slightly offended. But you kept a neutral face, ignoring her.

“Listen, this doesn’t have to be rough. How this goes depends entirely on you, you choose. We know you know Jinx. We know that you know something. The information you have is quite important to me,”

The older woman paused for a split second, her stare unwavering and promising. She looked over to the younger one before looking back at you.

“ to us. So we’re leaving this room with something, I can assure you that. But I can also assure you that if you help us, we will help you.”

Her voice was smooth, like wine. Well according to what people say about wine, you’d never had it. She was firm in her words, almost as if she herself knew the power behind her promise. That would’ve reassured you had it not been for the fact that she was after your fucking friends.

You looked between the two of them again, assessing the scene in front of you over and over. You were unimpressed, if you were being honest, something you hadn’t been since these cuffs first touched your wrist. Sure, you could tell they meant business but this was futile as an interrogation tactic.

Good cop, bad cop?

While the older wasn’t exactly nice, you expected a missing eye, pulled nails and burnt skin. What you weren’t expecting was two, unfortunately attractive, topside pigs to do a century old method. If anything they should’ve switched, you thought to yourself.

Maybe then they’d get somewhere.

“ Still don’t know who Jinx is or why I’m here.”

“ You’re lying, again. And protecting a known fanatic and criminal. Tell us where we can find Jinx.”

You furrowed your brows, annoyed with her insults and claims. Who is she to tell you that were lying? Well, you were of course. But regardless, the tone in the blue eyed woman before you made you unsettled.

“ I’m not lying.” You gritted out. “ I’ve been detained wrongfully. You’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything.”

“ Yes, you do.” Her voice was firm, final. You scowled at her, but it was nothing in comparison to how she looked at you. Constantly her jaw flexed, on edge and angry. But she had no right to be angry in your mind, after all you were the one chained to a table being talked at rather than talked to. Secretly you wished for the older woman to speak again, at least she wasn’t such a bitch.

“ Are they your friends? Is that it? Because I promise you that we will find Jinx, it will just be a whole lot messier without your help. I don’t mind that. But I’m sure you will.”

You fought the urge to wipe that domineering tone and look off her face. You’re never going to find Jinx! You’re nothing but a power hungry topsider who doesn’t know the first thing about friends! I’m not telling you shit. Was what you wanted to say. But instead,

“ I don’t know Jinx or whatever else you people plan on asking me. Like I said, you. are. wasting. your. time.”

You put emphasis on each word, tired of repeating yourself. But to your un-satisfaction she rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“ Look… I shouldn’t be here. I can’t give you anything because I don’t kno—“

“ Right.” She cut you off, so obviously tired of your insistent lying, even in the short minutes. “And you’re not an undercity animal.”

“ And you’re not a topside pig.”

In all fairness it came out before you could stop it. You weren’t used to being talked to like this and keeping quiet, it almost came out of pure instinct. But if you were surprised by your words you didn’t show it one bit, a small smile almost playing on your lips.

Her nostrils flared slightly, her breathing elevating. For a moment you thought she’d explode before the other woman spoke.

“ Kiramman.”

You memorized the name, not sure if it’d be useful later once you escaped but just in case. She simply collected herself, nodding at the woman who she called ‘General’. Maybe this is where you went wrong, your natural element slipping out, your ego on its way to arriving.

“ You should learn to control yourself, ya know… during interrogations and such.”

“ Shut your mouth.” It was harsh and whispered. This is when you should’ve stopped but you didn’t.

“ You must be new, since you need a supervisor to help you.”

“ Shut it.”

“ You guys have nothing on me. You’re fucking desperate. I’m n—“

Mistakenly you were so focused on Kiramman that you hadn’t been prepared for the harsh grab of your chin. It was quick, unbelievably fast and that scared you more than anything. The strength of which she used to crush your face also attributed to the pit in your stomach.

“ You’ve chosen miserably.”

Her voice was meaner now, she talked as if you were nothing. Like you were stupid. Instantly you regretted wishing for her presence.

Embarrassingly you struggled against her trying to pry away but it was useless. She effortlessly held you there, your cheeks red with humiliation and anger. You tried to ignore the victorious face planted on Kiramman.

“ She said shut your mouth so you shouldn’t be doing anything but that.”

“ Thought you w-wanted me to talk, which one is it?”

You half expected her to break your jaw or lash out like the woman beside her. Instead she remained calm, eerily calm. Anyone with such strength and patience was someone who got what they wanted. But, you weren’t going to talk, you reminded yourself.

She pulled you closer, not without the rebellious tug from you. Silently she analyzed you, staring into your eyes painstakingly long. You squirmed and averted your gaze. She let you go with a ‘hmph’.

“ She won’t talk, not like this.”

The blue haired girl whipped her head towards her, then back to you, a blue fire blazing in her eyes. From the short time they’d been in the room it was clear the older woman held a higher position, authority oozing from her undoubtedly. But now you noticed something dark about the Kiramman that you should have picked up on before.

She was angry, unreasonably so. There was something constantly threatening to set off inside of her.

“ Everyone talks. There has to be something that’ll make her.”

The General hummed. “ I agree, but not like this. She’s loyal to them and she’s prepared for a cell if not this. She’s attempting to use our anger to distract us. She needs something else.”

The goosebumps from the cold air became accompanied by ones born from anxiety. Your mind went into a dark place, worried you’d never leave Stillwater. What if they starved you? Kept you locked in some cell as your body slowly decayed while you still lived? True fear found its way to you for the first time, the unknown overwhelming.

Kiramman seemed to hold back a sigh, instead taking a moment to actually listen to her superior's words. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking but from the firm nod she let off to the General, you knew it wasn’t in your favor. The grey haired woman stood now, making your heart race. Desperately you tugged at the chain once more, attempting to repeat your overdone line.

“ Look, I really don’t know anything.” Ignored.

The blue haired girl remained seated, leaned back slightly, watching silently as the older woman walked around the table. She walked to you with a certain prowess about her. She was taller than you’d expected, to your dismay. You refused to look at her when she was finally standing beside you, face aimed at the grey table.

You pinched your eyes waiting to be hit, choked maybe, or stabbed if they didn’t mind the mess. Your breathing raised as you tried to silently comfort yourself through whatever pain soon awaited. You held back a flinch when you felt large hands pulling at your chains.

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. Fuck.

*clink*

You snapped your eyes open, seeing your handcuffs now undone.

“ Stand up.”

You took in a breath, silently grateful that you hadn’t been harmed. You stood now, relieved. At least whatever they were going to do wasn’t happening in the now you thought. You looked towards the giant closed metal door, expecting your arm to be snatched as she led you to your dark cell. But to your surprise she simply spoke again.

“ On the table.”

You looked between the two of them.

You shook your head, not even at them, it just shook. No way in hell were you going to lay down on some metal table while these two psychopaths did whatever they wanted to you. You weren’t exactly happy about the bruises that already resided there, definitely not hoping for extras.

“ …No.”

You hadn’t wished to say it but you couldn’t bring yourself to willingly place your body on that table before they hurt you.

“ You misunderstand the situation. You’ve chosen already. So get on the table.”

You didn’t choose shit. That’s what you wanted to shout, to scream at them until your bones betrayed you. A million emotions rushed through your head, clenching and unclenching your hands. Instead you remained silent and unmoving, your refusal to acknowledge was saying ‘no’ in its own way.

“ Fucking impossible…”

You didn’t even have a moment to react to the words before you were pulled. A grunt left your mouth as your hair was gripped painfully. Anger coursed through you upon seeing the black uniform in your peripheral. You used your now free hands to try and pry her hands from you but she only gripped impossibly tighter, your scalp beginning to burn. She was swifter than you’d imagined she’d be, strong too, grabbing both of your hands with one, pinning them. This somehow was worse than cuffs.

“ Fucki— let me go!”

Ignored. Why did they ignore everything?

“ Where do you want her?”

Her General's eyebrows raised, but you didn’t see surprise. Not even disappointment. Content, maybe? You didn’t put it past her.

“ Let's put her on her back to start.”

She moved without question or affirmation. Irritation was clear across your face now, upset at the stinging that wasn’t letting up on your scalp. But clearly the woman behind you didn’t care, roughly forcing you onto the table. She wasn’t as tall as her companion but she was taller than you and it wasn’t an advantage on your part. The force behind her movements were unsettling, you hadn’t thought she was powerless at first glance, but her grip on you was unnerving compared to what you thought she was capable of.

The cold metal wasn’t welcoming. It felt like a million needles were puncturing your skin causing you to shudder. Your tank top strap had fallen off your shoulder amidst the struggle, close enough to slipping down making you wish your hands were free.

“ Give me her wrist.”

They swiftly transferred your hands, the Generals grip matching hers but you could tell there was more strength to be given behind it. You didn’t want to imagine her really trying to squeeze you. The cuffs you were free from moments ago encased you again, and you didn't miss the two extra notches she clicked causing your bone to shift uncomfortably with the metal. You scowled.

“ It’s too fucking tight.”

Not even a pitied glance, nothing. Ignored. Again. You shifted your wrist again, overwhelmed and upset. And this bitch is still gripping my hair, using her other hand to keep your shoulder on the table casually. So easily, and that made you feel vulnerable, helpless. And your now restrained hands weren’t helping, the slight burn making something in your throat want to creep up but you wouldn’t dare allow it, deciding to instead take it out on them.

“ Let go of my hair, you bi–”

You hissed, the stinging sensation pulsating across your cheek. It wouldn’t leave a bruise but you damn sure felt it.

“ Mind your tongue.”

The General ignored the glare you sent her straight from hell, instead taking off her jacket revealing a dark sleeveless sort of top. You couldn’t begin to imagine or decipher the detailing of it, topsiders always dressed too flashy in your opinion, too stuck up. Her arms were as big as you'd thought. Both being ridiculed with scars.

Then, another sharp crack resounded through the dark room, a quick punishing tug to your scalp. This one would unfortunately leave a bruise. You could tell. You didn’t hiss this time, too stunned, on the verge of groaning from the way she used your hair as a plaything.

“ What she said.”

Kiramman finally let go of your hair, the residue of her strength still pounding through your head. You tried to sit up but she instead used both of her hands to hold you down. With only your legs to move, you kicked but the General shut that down as soon as it started. Effortlessly she used only one hand to keep them pinned down, now looking over you and at Kiramman.

What now? You thought. Cut my skin until I fess up? Break my bones until I don’t have any? Beat me bloody while I lie on this cold table? Are they going to kill me when this is all over, when I don’t say anything? I’m going to die here, aren’t I? I’m going to die and nobody’s gonna know.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it.

Eyes suddenly squeezed shut, recited echoes of wishful thinking, a scratchy throat. You braced yourself.

“ Last chance. Tell us where we can find Jinx and I’ll send you back to your cell. Untouched.”

Your voice came out a little exasperated, anxiety and anger laced into it. You kept your eyes shut.

“ I don’t know who Jinx is so I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything.”

Your shoulder crushed more into the table, pale hands squeezing.

“ You continue to choose stupidity, insolence. No more of that.”

Suddenly the grip on your legs were let go and you opened your eyes. She was still at the head of the table staring down at you. For a moment you considered kicking again but as if she read your mind…

“ Kick me and I will break every bone in your knee.”

Her tone wasn’t intimidating, demeaning absolutely, but not intimidating. The certainty in her voice made you throw away any ideas of using your legs. You liked your knees to say the least. You peered straight up to see an upside version of Kiramman, her long blue hair creating a shadow around her neck, her jawline distinct. Even without seeing her face, only the outline of lips and nose, the anger radiated off her body.

“ What now?”

The General looked over you, straight at her.

“ We’ll need to take her pants off for the next part.”

You and Kiramman spoke at the same time.

“ Wait, what? My pants?” “ Her pants?”

The older woman simply gave a one word reply, meant to supply both of you with a firm answer, ‘yes’.

“ Wait, wait.”

She looked down at you, eyebrows raised.

“ Do you remember something about Jinx? Something you’d like to tell us?”

You listened to the flickering sound coming from the light above you. One by one you let them pop into your head. Jinx, long blue hair and wild face as she hugged you. Vi, stuffing her favorite foodsin your face. Isha, making paper airplanes with you. For a moment you thought a tear might slip but it didn’t. You drew in a shaky breath, ignoring the sting on your wrist.

“ No. I don’t know anything. I just…”

You averted your gaze.

“ Is it going to hurt?”

A stupid question in your mind. No doubt torture hurts. But something in you needed to ask, needing some sort of certainty in what was to come.

“ That depends on you entirely. I’ll give you pain when you give me insolence. But when you give me answers, I’ll give you… ”

She suddenly ghosted a hand over your calf.

“ Relief.”

You shuddered a little, her graze unexpected. But you didn’t dare move your leg, not wanting to test what qualified as a kick to her. You didn’t want to imagine what she meant by relief, because it couldn’t mean that. It couldn’t mean that.

“ How does that sound?”

“ It sounds like I have nothing else to say to you.”

She hummed. Without another word she slipped her large hands in your waistband, pulling them down to your ankles. You wanted them back the second your bare thigh touched the cold metal. A click echoed and you looked to see a blade in her hand, small in size but formidable in design. Gold snakes seemed to embroider its handle. You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight, your eyes locked on it.

Your eyes flicked up at the blue haired woman, her position now changed so that you could see her face again. Her eyes almost beamed? For the first time an expression other than anger displayed itself on her features. Now she looked almost… pleased. Excited.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. Hopefully.

You ignored the last words, watching as the General kept her eyes trained on your plump thighs. Opening them, she traced it right on the inside of it. Immediately you could tell it was sharp. Too sharp. It was cold against your skin, not as harsh as the table but unforgiving nonetheless. Anticipation rushed through you. Hands clenched within its restraints, the light flickering and flickering, her soft hands on your shoulder, icy metal on your skin, her hand slipping onto your thigh and then….

“ Ngnh!”

Your head pressed into the metal slightly. You’d have been embarrassed by your whimper if it wasn’t for the sudden warm drip down your thigh. Blood, you assumed. You’d been through worse but you still squirmed at the cut now adorned on your skin. She pushed down on your thigh, not fond of your squirming. Then she continued, tracing the blade across your thigh, waiting until your body finally relaxed, stopping itself from that state of bracing. And right when you did, she’d swipe a quick line across your shaky, burning legs. Always between your thighs, always.

It felt like electricity was rushing through you, it was all so overwhelming. You felt like you were being swallowed alive and they had barely done anything. The cuts burned and sent a rush of pain through your nerves and skin. Everytime you looked at Kiramman her face was becoming alive with intoxication. It’s like she couldn’t pull her eyes away, trained on the way your leg wobbled under her General’s hand, how you whimpered lowly, the light trace of blood on the expensive blade. You jolted again, particularly harder this time.

“ Relax. It's just a little cut, you're a big girl.”

It continued like this. You tried your best to stifle the whimpers coming from your mouth. The last thing you wanted was for them to hear what they were doing to you. Over and over she painted your thighs with your own crimson, and it hurt. It hurt, it did. And that's all it should be.

But your stomach kept getting that feeling. It burned, like the surface level cuts she gave you. It burned every time her calloused finger swiped across your sliced skin, collecting blood. It burned when she smiled suddenly, as if proud of her work. And it was scalding when you looked up and saw those blue eyes entranced. But it wasn’t pain. It wasn’t…anger. It was something else. Something that made you want to release that feeling in your throat, made you wish she meant something ungodly when she offered relief.

“ What's this?”

Your skin was hot to the touch now, sweaty. Trembling slightly, you looked up at her. For a moment you couldn’t begin to imagine what she was referring to until you traced her eyes. You silently prayed that it wasn’t what you thought. But from the way she asked, you knew.

“ What is it?”

Kiramman asked, curiosity clear in her voice. The older woman smirked, staring down at the wet spot in your panties.

“ It seems her body is more honest than she is. I think our little prisoner likes this. Her panties say so at least.”

Your face burned so hot that it rivaled the sun itself. You considered saying something, protesting and denying it. But what was the point? It did feel good, the burn felt good. And she had the evidence right in front of her. You couldn’t meet either of their gazes, looking to the side in shame. Kiramman laughed, the vibrations reaching you through her touch.

“ I knew it, she was whimpering like a dog. Isn’t that right?”

You shook your head, still refusing to look. But she wasn’t having it, using one of her hands to pull your chin. Even upside down, she looked menacing. She forced eye contact. Her face was rampant with mocking undertones, sadistic glares.

“ Is that why you’ve been so rude? You wanted us to give you a little pain, show you a good time? You really are pathetic.”

“ That’s not tr– n-ngh!”

A stinging pain after a quick slap to your clothed cunt made you whimper louder than anytime the blade touched you. It felt like a live wire tapping your skin, your legs snapping shut. The wet spot in your panties grew, your breathing uneven.

“ Insolence. Tell the truth.”

I can’t. You thought. Telling them that you’d enjoyed it, even a tiny bit, seemed more daunting suddenly than ratting.

“ I’m not ly– f-fuck…”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever be allowed to finish a sentence, her hand opening your legs followed by another slap coming down. Your eyes fluttered for a moment, your face squeezing with pain and pleasure. Kiramman used the hand she never removed to guide you. A smile was now on her lips, wide with genuine amusement.

“ Oh god, did you just… moan? You really are something aren’t you? Is that what it’s going to take? A few more slaps to your cunt and you’ll be blabbering? Or maybe…”

She lowered herself, close enough that her hair brushed against your face. You whined again, another unsuspecting smack from the older woman. You hadn’t even done anything, she just liked the way your panties got damper with each hit. Kiramman almost thanked her for it, relishing in hearing the noise even closer. She whispered to you.

“ If I make you cum enough times you’ll remember something. I bet you’d like that, letting a… what was it that you called me…a topside pig make your cunt cry?”

Finally, you gave way to the ache in your throat. A tear fell down your face suddenly. Another burning sensation forming in your stomach at the feeling of the General toying with the rim of your panties.

“ Please…”

It was quiet, almost matching the decibels of the wind. But you knew she’d heard it. It was obvious from how her grin widened, her eyes looking like ones of a deranged woman.

“ Please what? Please…make me cum? Please…let me go? Please fucking what?”

In this small moment of time, you almost felt like you were watching your dignity physically leave your body. You imagined telling her to let you go, that you didn’t know anything and a few cuts to your legs wasn’t going to change that. And you considered it, over and over. Then something played in your mind, a sick fantasy woven in desperation. In it, you asked her what you really wanted to. And in it they kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, made you finish until you didn’t know how to walk. You considered both. But only one of them made your core ache with desire. Your eyes were even glossier now. Suddenly you were working yourself up for a new kind of courage.

I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.

“ Make me cum please.”

“ Please who?”

I can take it.

“ Please, Kiramman.”

“ That’s it. Finally something coming out of your mouth other than horseshit. But you still need some manners…”

The grip that had left your ears ringing suddenly came back, her pale fingers peeking through your hair. She pulled your head up, forcing you to look at the General. You groaned, arms thrashing slightly, the sting of the metal never relenting.

“ I’m not the only one here. Go ahead, ask General Merdarda too.”

You gritted your teeth. This was already humiliating, and she was just reveling in it. Your legs were already spread, panties damp, dried crimson on your skin, hands bound above your stomach. You’d already asked, multiple times. And now you had to say it again, with a death-like grip on your hair and those hazel eyes peering at you, awaiting.

“ …but I already asked y—“

The slap was even stronger this time , the force of it driving your body insane. Merdarda grinned at you, even laughing a little at the noise you made. Another tear fell down your cheek but Kiramman was quick to wipe it. Right before she licked her finger.

“ But you didn’t ask me.”

If she slapped your cunt again you’d probably start grinding against the table, somehow making you look more pathetic than you do right now. So you gave in.

“ P-Please General Merdarda, will…”

I’m never speaking about this if I get out of here.

“…Will you please make me cum?”

“ Well would you look at that, that’s all you had to say little one. But what do we get in return? Surely you can’t expect us to make you cum with nothing given back.”

“ …But…I already said I don’t know anything.”

Kiramman scoffed.

“ Even after you soak your panties from a little cut, you still have the ability to lie. I’m almost impressed.”

She let your head drop back onto the table.

“ Almost.”

….

For a second you thought she’d kiss them.

At first glance it seemed so, her soft lips trailed over the red raised wounds, her nose spilling cold air on them. You reveled in it, an ember threatening to go a blaze within you. That was until she nipped at it, a hiss leaving your mouth. You couldn’t see her smile but you felt it sweeping across the throbbing skin. You cursed under your breath, the force behind her bite growing more rabid. She slapped the thigh she wasn’t ravaging, quick and harsh.

“ You like that, don’t you?”

There that voice was again, smooth and sultry. You weren’t sure if she was referencing the strike on your leg or her roaming fingers but murmured yes anyway. Yes to all of it. She had your shirt hitched up, breast exposed. Every once and awhile she’d toy with them, trace an outline around your nipple, wait and then pinch. So often though she found herself distracted, your features giving away how desperate you were.

Merdarda found enjoyment in watching your contort every time Kiramman did something to you, anything to you really. You were like a tight coiled spring, threatening to snap at any given moment. It's like every touch has you ready to risk everything. And you learned quickly they were into this a little more than you, mania clear across their faces. You were trembling, Kiramman taking advantage of how sensitive your legs were.

“ C’mere.”

You felt a little dizzy, seeing her lift her head up from between your legs. She grabbed your cuffed hands, pulling you up to meet her face. It all happened so fast and you winced from the strain in your shoulders. She was closer now and it was just now that you noticed the traces of blood on her lips. You hadn’t expected a kiss this time around, but it happened. It wasn’t gentle, if anything it felt like she was trying to cannibalize you with her tongue. Shamefully you pushed against her, sick to your stomach at how good she tasted. Hints of copper on your tastebuds, her wandering hands. She pulled back, being sure to bite your lip before doing so.

“ You taste that? It’s you.”

She dropped her eyes to your thighs, licking over her lips once more. A trance almost seemed to describe the hunger behind her stare, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care either way, you just wanted her to do whatever was on her mind to you and soon.

“ fucking delicious.”

The whispered lust in her voice rivaled the reaction brought out from Medardas heavy hands.

“ You should taste her General. She’s sweeter than that filthy mouth of hers.”

Wordlessly, she captured your lips next. Her movements were more experienced, methodical and you felt as though you melted into her due to it. Ruby lipstick smeared onto you, a groan slipping from her as she made sure to taste everything you had to offer. The metallic tinge on her tongue made her pull in deeper. You whimpered, dizzy from lack of breath and insatiable roaming hands.By the time she pulled away your eyes were low, an unfocused look about you.

“ I wonder if her cunt tastes even better.”

Kiramman smiled sickly to herself, her gapped teeth giving you a warm tinge to your cheek.

“ We’ll know soon enough.”

….

Your wrist were nearly rubbed raw with all the thrashing you were doing. Time and time again you made attempts to close those abused legs of yours, in hopes of protecting your cunt. Unfortunately, Kiramman wasn’t pleased and she slapped it raw until you cried enough apologies. She mumbled something along the lines of ‘can’t be stupid and greedy’. But you somehow continued to be prove to be both, whining endlessly about the torture of her tongue. She never let up though, only unlatching from you to say obscene things or mark up your poor legs.

It seemed the pair held similar views, sick desires. Medarda would litter your neck and breast with purple marks shamelessly. She smelled of some expensive plant you’d never heard of, all you knew was that it made you whimper everytime her skin was pressed onto yours. She’d whisper siren-like words to you, etched in sin, rough kisses between them all. And yet you drank them into your ears like milk and honey.

“ You just came, didn’t you? Nasty girl.”

“ Do you remember anything now, hm?”

“ Don’t be so dramatic, keep your legs open for her.”

“ You must spread yourself open often. You’re a natural.”

“ Your cunts almost as noisy as you, dear.”

And when her tongue wasn’t making you drip onto the table, Kirammans words were just as wicked, if not more. Her posh accent was a coverup for all the nefarious things laced into it. A very, very poor coverup.

“ I said— keep. them. open. Unless you need a second pair of cuffs? … No? Then fucking listen.”

“ Go on, you can cry. I know it feels good. Yes filthy girl…just like that. ”

“ You’ve made a mess. Say you're sorry.”

“ Quit it, you can get a break when you remember something.”

“ Don’t act so sweet now— had quite a lot to say earlier. Isn’t that right?”

This was wrong, every bit of it. There was nothing exactly right about two high ranking officers of Piltover and Noxus eating you alive in the depths of Stillwater. The thought alone should send you running. It should have you drinking hot flashes of anger, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. But it didn’t. It only made you spread your legs wider and beg shamefully for more kisses.

It all felt so good. They felt so good and a redeemable, rational part of you hated that. But every time rationality tried to sink itself into you, Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda were right there to sink into you faster. And by god, they made you feel more full than any morale.

You were so sure you were going to die before. And that thought that hadn’t been removed just yet, except now you thought you’d pass away from all the onslaught orgasms caused by the ravenous women beside and inside you.

“ a—angh! oh god…pl–please”

Kiramman held back a sly smile, seeing the way you twitched, body so sensitive. Her fingers were drenched with you, now gloveless. Initially her signature black gloves dug inside of you but the minute she tasted you she knew she didn’t want it anywhere but on her skin. Quite roughly, she had pulled three orgasms, somehow each one more intense than the last. But that wasn’t enough, not to them. Nothing was enough until those pretty lips whimpered something they could actually report back. And even then she wasn’t sure she’d want to stop.

“ Are you going to make a mess again for us?”

Pathetically, you fought back the white of your eyes before looking down at her. She couldn’t help but grip your thighs tighter at your teary face, nodding exhaustingly down at her. Medarda kept you slightly upright, your back arching into her bicep while she sucked on your breast. Honestly she hadn’t a clue how long she’d been at it but by the rate she was going you’d look a fucked out mosaic by the time they were done. She laughed to herself but you knew it was at you. And that fact only made you rut against the table more.

“ This is going to be your fourth one dear. We’re never going to leave this room if you keep being so stubborn.”

She trailed her kisses up your chest. A peck here and a peck there. The slow ascend of her affections compared to the rapid thrust of the others fingers made you bite your lip, the skin pulling between your teeth. By the time she was up to your ear you were practically panting.

“ Or is that what you want? For us to keep making you cry until you can’t anymore?”

They’d never know it and thank god for that but you almost whispered a yes.

Kiramman couldn’t hear what was spoken but she definitely felt it. You clenched around her even harder, a long mewl spilling from you. She creased her blue brows slightly as she sped up her fingers, making sure to never be gentle with that special spot, secretly itching to hear just how loud you could get whenever you came. Her counterpart was just as wanting for it out of you, a more balanced desire about her. Even in spite of the way she pulled you in for another kiss when she heard you sob, “ ‘m s-so close..”

This time Kiramman both felt and heard it, her fingers happily accepting the tight squeeze of you. She latched back onto your clit which was practically begging to be consumed again, if you asked her. Immediately you tensed, using every ounce of self restraint to not slam her cheeks with your legs. It also got devastatingly hard to keep up with Medarda’s mouth, she pressed into you like she forgot you needed air, like you only needed them. And as the coil in your belly grew and the sloppy sounds of her eating away filled the room, you did need them.

A muffled moan ricocheted into Merdarda and she invited it wholeheartedly. When she finally pulled away, you used your bound hands to grab at her hand groping you. You squeezed it the second you felt Kiramman offer a grunt inside of your cunt. She licked you like she was rabid, lost in whatever drugs your pussy clearly had laced in it. Merdarda found it all so nasty, so amusing. Seeing the renowned Caitlyn Kiramman so cruel but so feral, and you with your slick mouth gone and lips swollen, made her clench around nothing.

Even if nobody in the room spoke it, you were all enjoying this ‘interrogation’ a little too much. That manic laughter that constantly filled Kirammans head, those stupid pigtails and flashy gadgets, had even subsided for a moment. She still wanted nothing more than to rip that smile off her face, but the way the tears journeyed down your face so easily made her want something more.

Right now all she wanted was for you to cum on her face, and she nearly keeled over when she finally heard you sing that song for her. A moan that could only be replicated in the best whorehouses of Zaun left you. The pair both smiled the moment they heard you whimper what they already knew.

“ i th—‘m gonn—“

You could barely manage a single word, back practically ingraining itself in her arm the way you arched over it.

“ Let it out, make a mess.”

Your body truly was more honest than you and clearly obedient because the second she said it you did. Your self restraint abandoned you, left you on that table shaking and crying. Your bruised legs kissed her cheeks (not so gently) as she ate and thrusted at the same pace she did before, never letting up. Even with your legs shaking and around her she just drove in deeper. The pleasure slipped into overdrive making you shake your head, trying your best to pull away, use your hands, anything to make her stop. But Merdarda snatched your cuffed hands.

“ kira—kirammannn!”

Wow, that’s the only time she’s heard her last name and wanted to hear it more. But she ignored you, knowing you were begging for her to stop. By now your legs had dropped, too weak to hold up. Your whole body practically vibrated as you lost your breath. Maybe it was the burning sensation ripping through you or the cotton in your head but you stupidly turned your head to look up at Medarda.

“ help…me…gonna fu— die!”

First she looked at you, toyed with your nipple as your hands fought against hers. So pretty and so pathetic, she thought. Then looked down at Kiramman, whose eyes now opened and met hers. An amused glint was in her blue tinted stare and suddenly Medarda couldn’t think of a single reason she’d help you.

“ She’s eating child, don’t be so rude. Have some manners.”

She was looking at you when she said it, but from the mockery in her tone you knew it was meant for more than just you. And it was confirmed when a smile traced itself onto your throbbing cunt. But it quickly went away. She was eating after all.

“ i canttt! pleasee!”

Kiramman didn’t stop until you went silent, unable to speak, inconsistent babbles of nonsense here and there. You weren’t even shaking now, just twitching and breathing like the oxygen in the room had been sucked out. When she finally got up from between your legs she couldn’t help herself and gave two quick bites. A strangle mix of a hiss and moan could be heard as you watched her stand. She lifted her fingers to your mouth, shoving them inside.

You expected her to be rough and jam them down your throat but to your surprise she simply swirled them around your mouth. Despite that voice in your head you sucked at them tiredly hoping to please them. And pleased they were. They both watched as you weakly licked her fingers clean. By the time she pulled away they both knew that previous orgasm just couldn’t be the last.

“ Do you remember anything now?”

You were fucked out, but not that fucked out.

“…no”

Thank god, they both thought in unison.

“ I guess it’s my turn then.”

…

BONUS

Kiramman walked with pure candor on her face. She heard the whispers as she walked past but she ignored them. What was the point in entertaining fools? Besides, the moment her eyes met theirs they always went silent. Always. Today hadn’t been the best day for her. Most days weren’t, hunting for that psycho and her friends wasn’t an easy job or a fun one. But she wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Well…maybe someone else…

“ Don’t let anyone in.”

The guard nodded dutifully.

By the time she reached the room, she was already imagining her sweet song. She didn’t have to wait long to hear it in person because it was practically blasting throughout the room the moment the door opened. She closed the door behind her, smiling deviously as she placed her heavy cape onto the chair.

“ She’s even wetter today, if you can believe it.”

She laughed softly, “ Oh I can believe it. How many has she got so far?”

“ Just two. Don’t worry, you didn’t take too long.”

“ God, I know. I got caught up with that fool Salo.”

Medarda laughed now, knowing all too well how annoying he could be.

“ medardaaa”

Your toes curled, struggling to handle the two large fingers inside of you. Both were devastatingly skilled with their fingers but hers were undoubtedly bigger. Way bigger. And if the size wasn’t agonizing enough, she was hitting that spot over and over. This time your hands were free, and you used them to grip her bicep.

Suddenly your throat had a new necklace. Not a very nice one. She squeezed her free hand around your throat, speeding her fingers. Clearly she wasn’t a fan of your interruption, despite the way her cunt ached when she heard her name in such a filthy way.

“ Can’t you see us talking? And you didn’t even greet your Commander. She came all this way to see you.”

You thought you were going to pass out, the squelching sounds and sultry insults becoming distant. Your mind and body gave into her once the resisting clearly wasn’t doing anything. And you loved it. Each filthy posh coated word, lingering touch, rushed collided lips left you undone. The strength behind their hands made you want to never be without it. And for the past two weeks it continued to, leaving you right here in this room on this desk, unable to breath, only able to cry and spread your legs wider.

Medarda let go, allowing Kiramman to finally slip beside you. As much as she loved the song you offered, she wanted your lips. You gasped into her, them giving you no time to actually catch a breath between the transfer. Lightheaded, you still pushed against her, wetness dripping from your face to hers. She pulled away, licked the rogue tear from the corner of your mouth.

By the time she was looking at you, you were heaving, clasping onto her bicep instead of Medardas now. She watched with such marvel as your face contorted into those beautiful expressions, such a drastic difference from the stupid girl she interrogated. Logically she knew she couldn’t call what all of you were doing an interrogation. So she opted to saying ‘some investigating work’ the few times someone inquired about her abrupt departures. It wasn’t a complete lie, her and Medarda were investigating something every couple of days. your cunt

Her gaze traced to the brown fingers moving in and out of you, then to glisten on her General's hand and finally to your thighs. They were healing nicely. Unfortunately for her they wouldn’t leave a scar according to the doctor she took you to. She almost frowned at the thought.

But then she heard you whisper a quick, “ h-hi Kiramman…”

She smiled at you, a warm thought coming to her.

“ Hi, filthy girl.”

We’ll make sure they scar next time.

P.s. They had the officers who beat you killed 😜

264 notes · View notes

borathae · 2 days ago

Text

Stake Outs

“You get yourself into some trouble despite having been told to stay at home and Taehyung is the one who has to save you. Bear in mind, he will always save you, but he will also show you what recklessness and disobedience get you.”

Pairing: Gangster!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: Crime!AU, established relationship!AU, Dark Romance, some Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Rough & mean Dom!Taehyung, happy masochist sub!Reader, scary criminals are chasing her & want to hurt her, Tae saves her, graphic descriptions of killing people & blood, he is angry at her & scolds her, but they make up and it gets so emotional and soft, he is actually just a softie in love who was worried <3, fear of losing each other, a romantic stake out date in his car while it rains, dancing in the rain, making out in the rain, very!! public sex on an empty parking lot, outside. against his car. in the rain. (nhnnh), ass spanking, strength & size kink, buff!Tae for the win besties, he pins her down by her wrists & is generally a lot stronger than her, he cuts off her clothes with his knife, and traces her skin with it, he has a huge dick <3, rough sex from behind, he also fucks her on the backseat of his car, in doggy of course, he spits on her ass & fingers it with his thumb, sooo two hole double penetration with his cock & fingers, clit torture, overstimulation (f.receiving), forced orgasms (f.receiving), multiple orgasms (f.receiving), squirting, creampies, slight breeding kink for the sake of having cum inside NOT pregnancy, ownership kink kinda, subby girl tears, he definitely has a crying kink, ALSO! huge degradation kink for real (he calls her slut & whore and is a lil mean throughout the entire scene), but he also calls her good girl & babygirl <3, so praise kink as well hihi, i also want to say that she likes it when it feels as if he is "forcing" himself on her and she also likes it when he keeps going "eventhough she says stop", BUT everything happening is consensual and a safeword is discussed which she knows that she can always use!!, the most comforting & soothing aftercare where he makes sure that she feels loved <3, he also eats her out to soothe her and clean her, nipple play as he does it with praise, lots of cuddles and kisses <3, they're just really kinky and in love, OMFG I ALMOST FORGOT! Yoongi calls Tae while they fuck and Tae keeps going and therefore forces her to have to stay quiet, sooo rough doggy while Yoongi is on the phone and she has to stay quiet, so i think this is everything hahahf, despite these warnings this is a very safe & loving scene fjsdjf just extremly kinky & nasty mhmhm

Wordcount: 7.8k

a/n: imma keep it short cause the warnings are already so long djfadj just know besties, that this story did things to me and my strength kink. like holy fuck having buff!Tae pin me down and force me to my luck? fuckkckdkf imma just touch grass and keep my thots to myself. have fun besties, this is so hot & kinky and disgustingggg 😩🖤 happy birthday to Tae <3

He told you to stay out of it, but you didn’t listen and now you have to carry the consequences.

You managed to lose them in the crowd, but their presence creeps up on you more and more. With shaking fingers, you feed the telephone coins. His number comes easy to you. He picks up after the third ring.

“Vante speaking.”

“Tae, I didn’t listen. They’re gonna kill me. I’m in the fish district.”

You hang up and continue running. He’ll understand. You can’t stay at one place for too long. They’ll do terrible things to you if you slip into their hands. The streets are busy despite the heavy rain. Water slaps against your face and soaks your shoes.

The fish district isn’t actually called this way, but streets gain different names once one is on the dark side of the law. It isn’t far from where Taehyung currently is. You know that it won’t take him long to find you.

“Stop her!”

You look over your shoulder. They found you.

“Stop this fucking bitch!”

“Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

You run. No looking back. Run. Fucking run. Your escape route takes you into a darker alleyway.

“You can’t run from us!”

“I’ll show you what happens to whores once I get you!”

“Stupid bitch, running is only gonna make us angrier!”

There are three of them. All men, hungry for ruining a woman in the most inhumane way possible before killing her. You need to keep a cool head despite being scared shitless.

Another corner. Faster. You are almost where Taehyung will find you. Faster! Run!

Their footsteps echoe in the alleyways. Their starving heaving sounds like songs of death to you.

The path ends. A wall. No. Holy fuck no, you took the wrong turn. No.

You whip around. The three goons cut off your way back. They are inching closer, fletching their hypothetical teeth like a group of hungry predators.

“Stay away!” you warn them, waving around the knife Taehyung got you for self-defence.

They aren’t impressed, inching closer.

“Stay away!” you yell louder.

They don’t listen, but perhaps they should have. They reach out for you, but they never get to touch you. Taehyung makes sure of that as he slices the first of them in half. The other two turn around and try to fight him, but they are helpless against him.

Delivering death is his daily bread and wine. Taehyung perfected the game until even the masters of it were unable to beat him. Now he is the master. Once he is set on killing a person, their death sentence is written. And fuck, Taehyung wrote an especially cruel end for your attackers.

One loses his hands before his heart. The other gets shot in the knees and his throat slid open. Taehyung kicks him in the face, making sure that he stays down.

The rain washes off his victims’ blood, soaking his clothes and his hair. He is in his leather jacket because he ran the moment he got your call. No time to dress up and take a rain coat.

“Oh god, fuck”, you get out, knees buckling in relief.

Taehyung whips around. The weapons are stored away again, but his eyes are still murderous.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No, just in shock.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Means that I can do this. What the fuck were you thinking?” he closes the distance to you in big, angry steps. “I told you to stay at home and you disobeyed me. You reckless fucking woman. You almost got yourself killed.”

You can feel his breath from how close he is and with how much passion he spits his anger at you.

“I asked you for one thing. Stay home. That’s all I asked of you and you somehow were unable to follow this task? Why? Do you wanna fucking die? Cause if you do, just tell me and I’ll do it for you. No need to go out and worry me to death.”

He takes you by your shoulders and shakes you gently, staring at you with widened, emotional eyes. You let him shake you, just as you let him scold you.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Save your fucking sorries. No sorry in this world would have saved you from being raped and murdered”, he spits and grabs your hand, “can you walk?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Good. Follow me.”

He tugs you with him. You follow him, feeling sick in guilt. He doesn’t even look at you, breathing heavily. His grip on you is possessive and angry, but doesn’t hurt. Deep down it is still a touch made from love. Taehyung could never hurt you. All this anger right now stems from a mixture of worry and his immense fear of losing you.

He parked his car not far from here. Somewhere he shouldn’t park, but he doesn’t give a fuck about.

“Inside”, he orders, opening the passenger door for you.

You try to talk to him at threshold of it, touching his chest. His heart is pounding against his ribcage. Another telltale sign of how upset the thought of losing you makes him.

“Tae, I’m sorry.”

“Inside. Now”, he snarls, lifting his brows in warning.

You follow because it is useless to try. He slams the door closed and rounds the car. Another slam of his door and then he already drives off.

Silence. Tension. Unsaid words.

You can take as much as a minute of it and then you have to try again.

“I thought that if I kept low, I wouldn’t get recognised.”

Silence.

“But one of them recognised my voice. I’m sorry.”

Silence. He is strangling the steering wheel in anger.

“Tae?”

“God damn it, ___!” he exclaims, slamming his hand on the wheel.

You flinch in surprise, holding your breath.

“You’re so fucking reckless. You think that I’m giving you this house arrest ‘cause I get off to it? I’ve been chasing these bastards for weeks, they’re ruthless and they stop at nothing to hurt me.”

“But now they’re dead?”

“No, their lowest of goons are dead. The fucking dead weight, the rats. And the king is still alive and now more wary than ever. For fuck’s sake, all I asked of you was to stay at home. You ruined the entire mission.”

He gestures with one hand, steering the car with the other.

“And you almost got yourself killed. Fuck.” He slaps the wheel. “Just thinking about what they would have done to you.” He exhales shakily, guiding his trembling hand to his mouth. “Baby, it would kill me if something happened to you”, he presses out in a quivering voice.

“Tae”, you get out, taking his hand. You kiss his knuckles, rubbing the tip of your nose against them. “I’m sorry.”

“Save your sorries”, you hisses, pulling his hand away.

“But I am.”

“Stick it. Fuck, I should-” he stops himself from saying something he doesn’t mean. He tenses his jaw, glances at you. “Fuck”, he presses out and looks away.

“Can I fix this somehow?”

“There’s nothing left to fix. You fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.”

He tenses his fingers around the steering wheel. Apologies won’t make it better.

“Thank you for saving me”, you whisper.

You are at a red light right now. His eyes gleam red as he glares at you. His jaw is tense.

“I know that I didn’t deserve it, so thank you.”

These words aren’t exaggeration. Taehyung is merciless with people who fuck up his missions. Some of his men never returned from their mistakes. Taehyung rarely saves when the reason is solely one’s own stupidity.

Technically you didn’t deserve to be saved tonight. Technically, you deserved to be assaulted and killed while the rain masked your screams. Technically you were a dead woman, but being Taehyung’s woman above anything else saved you. He’d set the world, which he was just about to save, on fire if it meant keeping you safe instead. This is what saved you. Being the love of his fucking life.

“If there is something I can do to repay you, I’ll do it”, you say.

Taehyung scoffs and looks away. He drives off without saying anything to you. He switches lanes, taking a road he normally doesn’t need to take home. You try to make sense of it, watching the unfamiliar city pass you by.

“Where are we going? Are you not taking me home?”

“Less questions, more silence.”

You gulp, hiding your hands between your legs. You get the feeling that you should really stay quiet right now. And you do so for the rest of the drive.

It ends on top of a rooftop parking space. Taehyung chooses the parking spot closest to the edge and furthest away from the entrance. Hidden in the darkness and overlooking the city. He turns off the motor and unbuckles the safety belt.

You look around. The street lamps flicker and give a dim light. Only three other cars are parked there. Each of them is empty.

“What are we doing here?” you ask.

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

“For hyung’s call.”

“Wait. I can be with you during the mission?”

“It’s not my first choice, but given how you are unable to follow even the simplest of tasks, the safest you can be is where I can see you”, he speaks his words with a certain sass to them. He is still angry with you.

You lower your head in shame.

“You’re still angry with me.”

“Not angry. Disappointed.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“Good. Cause I won’t save you if you ever do.”

This stings and Taehyung can see that it did. Insecure and hurt, you turn your knees away and try to hide the tremble of your lower lip. He regrets it instantly, trying to fix it.

“Hey”, he says, turning to you to cradle your cheek, “look at me.”

You obey, meeting his eyes. They are softer than before.

“I’m sorry. I take this back. You’re safe for as long as you’re my sweetheart. I’ll always save you, understood?”

“Yeah, understood”, you say, eyes hopeful.

“Good. But I can only keep you safe if you actually listen”, he says, speaking to you in a gentle voice.

You tear up, lower lip trembling.

“Tae, I’m sorry”, you choke out, having to stutter your next words, “someone called, called and said that, that they had you and that they would, would hurt you and I thought that I could sneak in and free you, but it was a trap and I-”

You have to gulp a few times before you can continue.

“I tried to disguise myself as I ran away but, but someone recognised my voice and, and they started chasing me. I’m sorry.”

“That’s why you left?”

“Yes.”

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you start with this? Oh, you let me scold you like this when it wasn’t even your fault?”

He pulls you into a hug as best as the position allows it. You nuzzle into his chest, closing your eyes. Finally you are home again.

“I deserved it. I should have known better than to believe that someone is able to capture you”, you mumble into him, pouting.

“You were worried and wanted to help me. I get it”, he assures you, kissing your head, “god you. You’re driving me crazy. Don’t ever do this again, please. Call me if you ever get a weird feeling, okay? Just don’t run off on your own.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Good girl”, he says and lets go of you to cup your cheeks. He dries your tears, giving you a soft smile.

You retort it. The big weight on your heart is gone. It feels good again to look at him. Everything is right between you and him.

“So you love me again?” you ask him quietly.

“I’ll always love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry for scolding you.”

“It’s okay. I deserved it. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s already forgiven. Gimme a kiss, baby”, he say, leaning in.

You meet him in the middle, kissing him gladly. You and he truly saviour it for a moment, breaking it only once air is sparse. One last little caress of your cheek, then Taehyung sits back and shifts his eyes to the city. You are holding hands.

“Are we really on a mission right now?” you ask him.

“Yeah.”

“And I can stay with you?”

“Mhm, not letting you out of my sight again. Not after what almost happened.” He glances at you. “Why? Got somewhere better to be?”

“No.” You play with his rings mindlessly. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“How this feels just like old times. You know, when we were hunting my family’s killers. We spent multiple nights in your car, talking and eating junk food.”

Taehyung’s eyes soften as you bring the sweet memories to the surface. He begins drawing hearts on your skin.

“I felt so shattered and hopeless back then, but you helped me heal. You were the first person to make me laugh after the incident”, you say.

“I love your laugh”, Taehyung says in a soft voice.

You avoid his eyes bashfully, heart fluttering in your chest.

The rain dances on the roof of his car, filling it with its melodies. It rained often when you and he staked out your family’s murderers. The sound of it became a memory of healing and falling in love. Now every time you are in a car and it rains, you think of Taehyung and your beginnings.

“I can’t ever lose you, Tae. Not to this life, not to cruelty or, or-”

“Hey”, he stops your anxious stuttering, tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin, “what happened to your family, won’t happen to me. I promise that I won’t let people slaughter me.”

“I can’t go through this again. You’re the only family I have left. I can’t do this again”, you confess in a whisper.

“And you won’t have to.”

“When I got this call today, everything short circuited. All I could see were my dead siblings and mom and dad and, and you. All dead. I was so scared, Tae.”

“I know darling, I know.” He kisses your forehead, soothing you immensely, “I promise that the only thing you are going to lose me to is old age. I’m gonna go at a hundred and ten in my sleep.”

His cute promise makes you snicker. Taehyung joins you, squeezing your hand gently.

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

You exhale shakily, looking into his eyes.

“Thank you. I promise you the same. Well, this presupposes that I actually listen and stay at home when you tell me to.”

He chuckles, eyes incredibly warm and adoring.

“I will listen. Promise. Unless you’re actually in danger, then I won’t listen. I-”, you cringe, “sorry, I’m not making it any better, am I?”

“No, you’re perfect”, he assures you and kisses you, smiling into it as he does.

You kiss him back happily and with a racing heart. He ends it by tugging on your lower lip, smiling again when he pulls back. He gives your chin a little caress, relaxing back afterwards. His hand comes to rest on your thigh, caressing it gently.

You and he enjoy a moment of rainy silence, watching the city sleep.

“So for how long do you think we have to wait for his call?” you ask after a relaxed while.

“Don’t know. Could be ten minutes, but could also be all night. Depends on how efficiently Yoongi’s guys work.”

“All night? God.” You sink into the seat. “Can’t you drop me off at home?”

“Not happening. If I have to be bored, I might as well drag you into it too. You are going to be bored with me.”

“Wow, I married such a considerate sweetheart.”

He chuckles, “besides, when was the last time we were truly alone?”

You glance at him. He is smiling playfully.

“I guess you’re right. So this is official? We’re on a date?”

“Yeah, a stake out date. Granted, I’d have preferred a dine out date, but this is good too.”

“I don’t. This is great. It’s just like old times.”

He hums and kisses your cheek, “you convinced me, but that means that we need music. Open the glove box.”

You do.

“No way. You still have the mixtapes?” you gasp, cradling the cassette tapes you made Taehyung for your first year anniversary.

“Of course I do. They’re precious to me.”

“I can’t believe that you kept them. God, you have no idea how difficult it was to make them. I had to search heaven and hell for a functioning tape recorder. Then when I finally did, I almost didn’t get it to work”, you say, feeding his car radio one of the mixtapes.

Slow jazzy music starts playing. You and Taehyung made out a lot to this mixtape. Like, a lot.

“Still totally worth it. This music is timeless”, you say and hum to it, letting your fingers dance over the dashboard.

It is rather peculiar that Taehyung doesn’t say anything or sing with you. Curious, you check up on him only to realise that he is gazing at you like a love drunk puppy.

“What’s with that face?” you ask him.

“Just thinking that you’re beautiful and that you haven’t aged a day.”

“Shut up”, you shy away, nudging his arm.

“I mean it.” He intertwines his fingers with you. “You just got more beautiful with the years.”

“Thanks”, you mumble, smiling shyly.

“Come, dance with me.”

“Dance. In the pouring rain?”

“I’ve been seeing death for days, let me have my moment of happiness.”

“Wow, you old charmer. You know just what women want to hear”, you tease him.

He laughs, squeezing your hand. He rests his head against the seat, showing you a boxy smile. His thumb draws hearts on your skin as he talks.

“What if I tell you that I’m happy that you’re my wife and that I want to kiss you in the pouring rain?”

“Mhm, that’s better.”

“See? I can be romantic too”, Taehyung jokes and gets out of the car. He rounds it and opens the door for you, helping you get outside. The door stays open so the music is still audible.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asks in a posh accent, bowing deeply.

You snicker.

“Why, yes of course you may, good sir”, you joke, doing a curtsy.

He takes your hand and melts close.

The rain pours down on you, soaking you to the bone. It doesn’t bother you at this moment. Not when Taehyung dances with you and looks at you as if you were his everything. The dance is on the slower side. It is such a nice thing to experience.

You and he don’t get to do a lot of romantic stuff. His life is busy and it is dark. Cruelty, death and constant danger force him to keep tenderness and romance as far away as possible. Nobody would take a hopeless romantic serious and daydreaming way too big would only get him killed. Taehyung needs to be reserved and cold and pragmatic in order to keep his position as a powerful, well respected and feared leader. So moments like right now are sparse and precious.

“You still know how to dance”, you say, gazing at him. His dark hair sticks to his face. He is so beautiful. Almost to the point where he doesn’t seem real.

“Of course I do. I don’t forget stuff like this”, he says and picks you up with his arms under your butt so he can twirl.

You let it happen with a happy squeal and your eyes closed. Truly, you and he are eternal in this moment. He sets you down once you are a little dizzy, nuzzling his face against yours and giggling. You giggle too.

Taehyung is playful when it is just you and him. Such moments are rare because even in your own home, there are guards or some of his goons constantly present. You and Taehyung don’t get time without witnesses often, so you sometimes forget just how playful he actually is. Until such a rare moment comes again and you are reminded.

This right now is such a moment. You and he, alone on this rooftop parking lot while other humans are far away.

You and he break apart for a moment just to twirl in the rain with outstretched arms and your faces greeting the sky.

He laughs louder and he laughs longer. He also seems to glow more and when he closes the distance to you, he does so in a playful, happy way. He skips through almost every puddle having formed on the ground, ending it by kicking some of the water at you.

“Hey”, you complain in a giddy squeal, shielding yourself. “Not cool.”

“I know. I’m an ass”, he says and puts his arms around your waist. He presses close, claiming your lips in a surprise kiss.

“Mhm”, you let out, needing a quick second to make sense of your sweet situation. When it finally sinks in, you fall hard. Your arms hook behind his head and your fingers bury themselves in his hair. You moan softly, letting his eager tongue taste you just as you taste him back.

He purrs, pressing you against the car and deepening the kiss.

You and Taehyung made out a lot to this mixtape and it seems that he wants to take you down sweet memory lane tonight. The kiss just doesn’t seem to want to end. It goes on and on and on until you feel dazed and out of breath.

He is the one to break it, visibly struggling with the effects of it. His hands just can’t come to rest on your body, wanting to touch you everywhere at the same time. His quickened breath tickles your face, his eyes are hazy.

“You have to stop me”, he whispers.

“Stop you from doing what?”

“Taking you.” He grips your hips, staring at your lips. “Having you.” He kisses your neck, mouthing at it sinfully well. “Fucking you. You have to stop me from fucking you.”

Your brain totally stops working because all the blood is shooting straight to your pussy. It has been a while since you were with Taehyung. Again, he is a very busy man and romance is sparse. Tonight, you also thought that you would lose him and he has been such a sweetheart on your date. There are no reasons why you wouldn’t be turned on as well. You don’t want to stop him.

You push him away from you only to grab his leather jacket, looking into his eyes submissively.

“Fuck me.”

“Darling, you’re supposed to stop me.”

“I don’t want you to stop. Please. Take me, have me. Fuck me.”

“Here? Now?”

“Yes. Please fuck me.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes, for fuck’s sake.”

He chuckles and tries to kiss you, but you stop him with a finger on his lips. Said finger, he instantly licks and kisses, looking at you as if he was sin personified.

“And please. Be mean to me and, and make it hurt a little”, you plead.

“Are you sure?” he asks, swirling his tongue around the tip of your finger. How wish this to be your nipple instead or your clit.

“Yes, I’m sure. I wanna be punished for disobeying you.”

He purrs, cradling your hand to kiss a path down your arm. Your wrist and lower arm until he does a total switch and kisses your neck instead. It feels so good that you have a difficult time to say your words.

“I wanna get one of your lessons so I won’t forget. Please…” you beg him, exposing your neck to him.

“One of my lessons?” He purrs, mouthing at your pulse point. “The one where I make it hurt and you cry so prettily for me?”

“Yeah…that one.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He cups your face, looking into your eyes intensely. “Do you know your safeword?”

“Red.”

“Good girl, don’t forget that you can use it whenever you need to. Even when I’m really mean to you and you think that you’re not allowed to. You are always allowed to stop this. Okay?”

“Yes, okay. I trust you.”

“You can. Fuck, Imma punish you so well, make it feel so good.”

“Tae, please”, you beg, scratching down his sculpted chest because you feel oh so needy.

“Bend over for me.”

“Over the car?”

“Yes. Don’t let me wait.”

“Oh god, this is so hot.”

You let him shift you into place. He puts you over the hood of the car, guiding your arms on top of it as well. He runs his hands along your torso and to your hips.

“So pretty. Looking so ready for me to use”, he purrs and gives your ass a playful spank.

“Ah”, you let out, chasing his hand.

“Can’t wait to get my hands on you”, he says and takes out his knife. He uses it to undress you. Within seconds, he has your pants and panties cut off you, exposing your sweet holes to him.

You moan, writhing sensually. The rain is cold on your skin and the tip of his knife draws patterns on your buttocks and thighs. You know that he would never cut you, so this is just incredibly sexy to you.

“So fucking sexy”, Taehyung purrs, pushing your legs apart so your pussy was better exposed. He watches as she opens up, hole clenching needily as if it was begging for his cock. “Shit, I can’t wait to sink into you, sweetheart.”

You lift your butt, “please do.”

“Trust me, I will.”

He steps back and begins undressing. He puts the knife on the hood next to you and shrugs off his leather jacket to put it over you.

“So you stay warm.”

Next he opens his zipper and pushes his briefs down to take out his hard cock and bulging balls. He jerks himself a few times, making sure that you are able to get the hardest version of him. Taehyung feels high. His cock looks so good in the rain. He can’t wait to sink it into your ready cunt.

“Tae, please hurry.”

“Don’t stress me.” He spanks you hard, making you mewl and twitch. “You’re gonna get my cock when I decide that it’s time. Not a second sooner.”

“Oh god”, you whimper, writhing on the car. He is so mean. It turns you on so much.

“There we go. That’s better”, he purrs and closes the distance to drag his bulging tip over your pussy. He started off at your ass, giving your hole one second of pressure to remind it that he could claim it whenever he wanted to. It was quite frankly, orgasmic to experience. Then he finally lets your pussy get a taste. He grinds on your clit, switching it up with circles on your needy entrance.

“Look at you. Your pussy’s begging me for cock.”

You mewl and writhe, pussy clenching even harder. His dark chuckle makes you want him even more.

“So needy.”

Your ruined pants are pooling by your ankles, keeping your movements just a little limited. Not that you plan on running away. Getting fucked in the pouring rain on top of his car while in public? A dream come true. Quite frankly, you are pretty sure that the liquid running down your inner thighs is not rain but your own arousal. This is such a turn on to you and as Taehyung finally sinks into you, you moan as sinfully as possible, pressing back to have him as soon as possible.

“That’s it. Press back. Take all of me.”

“Thank you”, you whimper, earning yourself a little caress. He likes it when you’re polite.

“So wet, darling. I’m going insane.” He rubs your lower back. “How are you doing? Do I hurt?”

“No, you feel so good. Please move.”

“Mhm, fine…I will...such a demanding girl”, he taunts, picking up a slow, dragged out rhythm as the beginning. He wants you to get used to him, to feel every fucking inch of him leave and enter you repeatedly. He wants you so sensitive to his girth that you will scream once he picks up the tempo.

He also knows that you could be so much wetter. Granted, you are already dripping, but he can do better. He wants you sticking to his cock so sinfully that even the rain won’t be able to wash you off.

The rain.

Taehyung rolls his head back, staring up into the endless darkness. The rain hits his face in thick droplets.

“Fuck darling, I can’t believe that I’m fucking you in the pouring rain like you’re a common whore I paid for a quick fuck on the parking lot.”

You squeeze down on him, knees buckling.

Taehyung smirks darkly, letting his eyes roll back just a little. Of course this would excite you. You are so obsessed with degradation.

“So fucking sexy, babygirl. I paid for the best pussy”, he taunts, playing into it for your sake.

“Tae, oh god.” You clench and throb. “Faster, please.”

“Shit, you even beg like a whore.”

“Please”, you mewl, dripping uncontrollably.

Taehyung purrs, rolling his head to the front. He digs his right hand into your hip and picks up a different rhythm. Faster. Just like you begged him to.

With his left hand he pins your arm behind your back, keeping you hostage. He likes watching how you clench and stretch your fingers helplessly as he rearranges your insides. It makes him so aware of how vulnerable and small you are and how easy it is for him to have complete control over you.

Taehyung is a big man. He wasn’t always like this. When you and he met, he was a slim man. But years of training and keeping his victims pinned down, grew his body. Sometimes, you rarely even recognize him, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. He makes you feel so safe and at the same time so small.

Especially right now. When he has you over his car, pinned into place and fed his thick cock.

“Tae-ae-ae”, he knocks his nickname out of you in a constant moan of ecstasy as he drills his cock into you.

“Yeah, you keep moaning my name. That’s who owns you, darling”, he encourages you, writing his name against your sensitive spots just to make it really stick.

“More please. More.”

“Needy slut”, he growls, hitting you straight across the ass before he picks up strength. “I can’t satisfy you, can I?”

He curses and spanks you again, making you squeal and writhe. He thinks that the view of you sprawled out on top of his car might be the best view he had all week. Gritting his teeth, he pins you down harder, knocking a helpless yelp out of you as he angles his cock deeper.

You are shaking so much, but this isn’t what he needs. Goddamn fucking pants. They’re keeping him from truly connecting with you. He wants to feel your ass against his crotch and his balls slap against you.

“More please”, you beg and Taehyung knows that this won’t be satisfactory anymore. He puts great emphasis on satisfaction. In every aspect of life, satisfaction is very important to him.

He slips out of you, ignoring your needy begs. He takes you into a gentle headlock, pressing his lips against your ear to whisper darkly. You can feel his strong chest like this, drooling on his arms as you feel the muscles bulge around you.

“I’m not satisfied. So shut the fuck up and let me do my shit. Understood?” he warns.

“Yes, please.”

“Good. Walk”, he orders and gives you a shove. Your left hand is still pinned to your back, you are still in a headlock and your legs are still constricted by your pants. If he wasn’t so strong and held you so safely, you definitely would stumble. He guides you to the backseat door.

His backseat is very spacious and you know exactly what he is going to do. You writhe in his hold, aching because it isn’t happening to you yet.

“Open it.”

You open the door.

“Get inside.”

You step out of your ruined pants and get inside. You stay on all fours, waiting for him.

Taehyung takes off his pants and briefs, keeping them outside. He climbs inside, but keeps the door open.

His touch makes you moan and stick your ass out.

“You’re such a good girl”, he praises and sinks into you.

He doesn’t waste any time, burying himself as deep as possible.

“Yes, that’s it”, he moans, rolling his head back. Another moan leaves him when he picks up a rhythm, now finally able to fuck you with all of him.

You can feel it too. Taehyung’s cock in doggy hits especially hard. He is so big. When he comes in from behind, you can really feel just how much he has to offer. He fucks places so deep that you fear for your sanity.

“Faster Tae, please.”

“You’re driving me fucking insane”, he growls, picking up speed. He spanks you three times, grabbing your wrists afterwards to pin them on your back. You rest on your shoulder, head bend to the side and cheek squished against the leather seat. You don’t want to fight him, but still squirm. Staying calm is impossible when he makes you feel so good. Besides, when you squirm it means that he will use more strength on you and this is the hottest thing ever.

His hands are big enough that he only needs to use one to keep you place, using the other to spread you apart.

“Stop squirming. I know you want me”, he warns.

“Want you”, you whimper, writhing in bliss.

“Yeah, you do. Needy slut. Take me. Take all of me. Such a good cunt. Shit, you’re the sexiest babygirl”, he is babbling, staring like an addict at his own cock in your pussy. You get him so creamed. Your pussy moves around his veiny girth so sexily. You are so stuffed and stretched. And your pretty ass. Your hole keeps clenching needily. So empty. He gathers his saliva and lets it trickle down on your hole. He plays with it a little, giving you time to stop him. You don’t stop him, you press back and arch your back.

So he sinks his thumb into you, keeping you spread with his other fingers.

You sob his name and Taehyung knows that he did something right.

“Of course you’d cry. You’re such a fucking slut”, he taunts, twisting his thumb in you as he abuses your g-spot with his cock.

You agree with more sobs. You are a slut and he is satisfying even your most whorish of needs. You are completely his’. Stuffed to the brim and moulded to him. This is everything you ever needed.

His thumb in your ass burns just perfectly. You are so tight and his thumb is so big. Pairing it with his huge cock and your stuffed pussy is an experience so sinful even the devil is afraid to speak of it. But you love speaking it, moaning his name as he pushes you to the brink of insanity.

The sound of his phone rips you back to reality. Taehyung pulls his hand away from your wrists, letting out an exasperated sigh. He looks for his phone in his jacket.

“No. No please”, you beg.

You are hurting for what is to come. Taehyung is going to pull out. You don’t want this to end. Please.

“Hey, hyung.”

You tense up. Taehyung is still inside you, fucking into you in a deep, punishing rhythm while twisting his thumb in your ass. He didn’t pull out, on the contrary, he seems to go even harder than before. You look behind yourself. He is clearly talking on the phone, keeping a piercing gaze on you.

“Yeah, I can talk”, he says and wedges the phone between his shoulder and head.

He knits his brows in warning. Quiet. This is what is telling you with it. Quiet. It should be an easy task if he didn’t slip his fingers to your clit to pinch and roll it while his cock writes his name against your g-spot and his thumb curls in your ass.

You muffle your squeaks with your own hand, begging him.

“Mhm yeah, I got it.” He talks nonchalantly, as if the fuck wasn’t affecting him, “no, yeah I got it. Anything else?”

Yoongi seems to be talking again. Taehyung listens while he rearranges your guts one harsh thrust at a time. Staying quiet is impossible, but you are forced to try. You bury your face in the seat, keeping your hand pressed to your face. He needs to slow down or you will scream.

“Got it. That was easy. Mhm? No, I’m alright. Why are you asking?”

He thrust into you. His balls slap against you, your body shudders. A small whimper escapes you.

“Oh that? No, just taking care of some business. You’re not disturbing me at all.”

Deep, hard pounding. Angry, punishing. So good. So fucking good, please you need to scream.

“As a matter of fact, you could talk to me some more if you want to.”

No please no. Please you have to scream please. Taehyung laughs deeply, tugging on your clit at the same time. You bite your own hand, hoping to any higher deity that Yoongi can’t hear the moans you have to let out. Taehyung is making you cum. It feels so good but you have to be quiet. This is agony.

“No, I get it. You’re busy too. Thanks for the info. I’ll be there in twenty. I still gotta finish this job. Judging by the state of them, it’s not gonna take long.”

Another laugh. Harsh thrusts. As if he isn’t currently fucking your climaxing body into a state of total overstimulation and pleasure overload.

“See you soon, hyung. Bye.”

He ends the call and throws the phone on the floor.

“Good job, you fucking slut actually stayed quiet. Such a good girl.”

You scream and sob instantly, clawing at the leather seats helplessly.

“What’s that? Oh? I’m making you cum and it hurts to be fucked through it? Darling, I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”

He grips your hip and pulls you back on his cock. Over and over again while he tortures your poor clit and abuses your tight ass.

“Please! Please, Tae! Please!”

“Stop fucking crying. I know you. I know you beg me to stop, but deep down you want me to continue. Admit it, slut. Admit that you’re only really liking it when I make it hurt.” he snarls, showing you your truth one painful thrust at a time. He isn’t wrong. You fucking love it when it hurts, when he is making it feel as if he is forcing his cock into you, as if he is forcing you to your luck. This is when it starts to really feel good.

“Oh god, Tae. It hurts, I have to- again. Ah!”

“See! I know you. What a dirty pain slut you are. Cum for me, babygirl. Cum for your master”, he encourages you, helping you through your intense high until you clasp the seat and kick and squirt everywhere. “Such a good girl, let go. Give me everything.”

“Please breed me! Please!”

“Mhhm fuck…” he growls, scrunching his nose, “beg for it.”

“Please! Please! Please!”

“There we go. Now stay still”, he orders and pins you down into the seat. He curls his thumb inside your abused ass, pressing down in his cock this way. His thrusts are harsh and bring you to your limit. This is for him. You can feel it clearly. This is for him and he doesn’t give a shit how sensitive you are.

Your little sobs are only motivating him to rut into you deeper until he finally finds his release.

He moans your name as it hits him, burying his cock as deep as possible so you feel it fill you to the fucking brim.

“Yours, Tae…yours…”

“Yeah mine. All mine. Fuck, you feel so good. Mhhmmmm…”

He stops once he is satisfied. He slips his thumb out of your ass and uses his hands to take your wrists and pin them above your head.

His cock is still inside you, throbbing slowly as he recovers from his high.

“Good job. My good girl. Breathe baby, breathe. It’s over now”, he soothes you, kissing a path up your back before he lies down on top of you, kissing your neck slowly. “Breathe. It’s over.”

You breathe with him. You feel so ruined and satisfied. You could honestly cry and maybe you do. Taehyung kisses the tears away.

“How’s the pain? Did I go too far?”

“No, it’s so good”, you mumble, sniffling.

“Mhm, that’s what I like to hear. My good girl. You did so well.”

“Tae, wanna look at you.”

“Let me help you.”

With his guiding hands he flips you over. Sadly, he has to slip out for it. You instantly leak, wishing for him to be back inside you. Your eyes meet.

“Hey, how are you?” he whispers, cupping your cheek softly.

You whimper tiredly, nodding your head to showcase that you were okay but you were just very exhausted.

“You did so well, I’m so proud of you”, he praises and kisses your cheek.

You mumble something unintelligible. Taehyung studies you from head to toe.

“Fuck, I was really rough with you, wasn’t I? You look ruined. Are you sore?”

You nod your head, but smile happily.

“You are? Fuck, you’re not bleeding are you?”

He checks. You let him, opening your legs for him. You know that you aren’t because Taehyung would never make you bleed (unless you want him to. No further questions please).

“No, you’re not. Fuck, but you look so loose. You can’t even keep it in. Sorry, baby. Here, let me make it better. Relax. Let me help you.”

He lies down between your legs as best as the car allows it, putting your legs over his shoulders. He cups your tits as a little treat for you and connects his mouth with your tender pussy.

“Ah”, you get out, arching your back and grabbing his hair. The pleasure is instant, going so fucking deep.

He is so warm and soft. And so gentle. He is so fucking gentle that it shoots tears to your eyes.

“Tae, oh god.”

“Mhhhm I love well fucked pussy. You taste like heaven, babygirl”, he lulls, lapping at you hungrily afterwards. He rolls your nipples over your shirt, gazing up at you.

“Good…aaahm…”

“Mhhm, so good…”

This is why you love him. This right here is why there won’t ever be a better lover than him. He can break you and ruin you, but he will always make sure to soothe you and build you back up afterwards. His mouth can spit the meanest things, but he will make sure to use it for adoration afterwards. You won’t ever feel ugly or disgusting or used after Taehyung was rough with you because he will make sure that you feel how much he appreciates you. And how fucking deep his respect for you goes.

Almost as deep as his wet tongue goes as he laps out the massive creampie he left in you. His nose rubs your clit like this, forcing you to whimper and tremble. His lips stimulate your outer pussy. You are so sensitive, but it feels so good. His fingers on your nipples do the rest.

“Tae, I have to cum again”, you sob, throwing your hand over your eyes, “oh god, Tae. It’s-” little mewls silence you.

Taehyung moans, burying his face deeper in your pussy. He uses his nose to really get your clit, curling his tongue inside you.

He knows the moment it hits you because you squeak and tug on his hair painfully before the deep pulsing of your pussy sets in. Taehyung helps you through it, moaning deeply and enjoying it just as much as you do.

It feels so good to you. He makes you feel so safe and loved and deeply satisfied. Satisfied to the point where even his tender mouth hurts after your high. You writhe away, pulling at his hair.

“No more, please. No more.”

Taehyung listens, letting you tug him away. He kisses a path up to your face, holding you close once he reaches it.

“Thank you”, he whispers between his kisses, “thank you for letting me taste it. Did you like this?”

“Yeah”, you whimper, twitching in his arms as your body recovers from the gentle yet still intense high.

“That’s good. You’re the best girl. I’m so proud. And fucking high on you. Can’t get enough of you.”

You snicker, snuggling into him.

“I love you, babygirl.”

“I love you too. Oh god, I feel so giddy”, you confess and giggle, squeezing him.

“That’s good to hear. I love when you’re happy after sex. Was it good for you?”

“Yeah it was so good. You did everything so right. I was so overstimulated and it hurt, but you didn’t stop”, you sigh dreamily, “thank you so much. You know me so well and I…I feel so safe with you.”

“You are safe with me, darling.” He smiles his giddiest boxy smile, brushing his fingers over your face. You rest in his strong arms, basking in the safety he provides and getting droopy from his warm post-sex scent. He smells especially good after sex.

“I can’t believe someone so perfect is mine”, he whispers, “I’ll think about tonight forever.”

“Me too. Oh god, I can’t stop giggling. I feel so good”, you say and giggle.

He smiles, scrunching his nose giddily. He likes you so much when you’re like this. You are especially cute, making him want to protect you and hold you close.

And he does. He gives you one of his really tight bear hugs, increasing your giggles and happiness

Taehyung’s phone rings again, kind of ruining the moment.

“Ah shit, Yoongi! I completely forgot!” Taehyung exclaims and rolls over so aggressively that he rolls off the seats. “Crap, he’s gonna kill my ass. Twenty minutes I said. Twenty. I’m a dead man, seriously. Where is this fucking phone?”

You snicker, watching him scramble to get his phone.

“Don’t just laugh at me. Help me look”, he whines, only making you laugh harder.

“I can’t. You were so funny when you fell off the seat with your naked ass out.”

He chuckles and pecks your lips.

“Haha very funny, now help me look.”

“Okay, okay fine. Where did you throw it?”

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