#and then I stumble around in complete darkness

[kkai-zen]

˖⋆࿐໋ i like it like that!

summary: the jjk men as different pôrn plots! + drabbles for each!

featuring: [separate] fem!reader x satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, & yuta okkotsu

contents: 18+ nsfw! MDNI. [gojo] mutual masturbation, perv reader, mild degradation, fingering, p in v. [geto] power play, implied consent, fem!reader receives oral, mild degradation. [nanami] m!receives oral, mild degradation, finishing inside reader's mouth. [toji] fingering, hickeys, squirting, implied p in v. [yuta] nerdy implied-virgin yuta, exhibitionism, p in v, playing with him under the table (w your foot), overstim, creampie

wc: 3.5k

a/n: just some thirsts over the jjk men! (the titles are a little cheesy, i tried to make them like avg clickbait pôrn titles lmao). enjoy!

GOJO SATORU . . . spying on my brother’s best friend while he masturbates!

You yawn, rubbing your bleary eyes as you sit up in bed. You and your brother, Geto, decided to crash at his best-friend Gojo’s place for the night. Stumbling out of the bedroom, you squint into the darkness. “Where the hell is the kitchen? I just need water,” you mutter. But before you can continue forward, you see a sliver of light glowing in the darkness from Gojo’s room, followed by- moaning? 

You quietly pad to his door, cracked open the tiniest bit, and peek inside to find-

“Haah- ugh, fuck-”

Gojo curses, fisting his cock desperately. He’s completely naked, sprawled out on his bed, sweat dripping down his lean muscles as he gasps for breath. A hand slaps over your mouth as your eyes go wide at the sight.

Something throbs in your lower abdomen, and you clench your thighs together as his moans continue. “Hngh- ah, shit.” When his hand starts moving faster, his glistening abs tightening, you bite your lip and slip a hand into your tiny shorts, pressing your fingers into your already-dripping hole. Throwing his head back, he bucks his hips into his hand and it takes you every fiber of self control not to moan, thumbing at your aching clit. “Ohh, fuck…hnngh, ugh-”

He looks ethereal like this, snowy white hair falling in elegant strands over his handsome face.  Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and guttural groans slipping from his throat, you’ve never seen a sight so arousing, especially when you look at his cock; pale and pretty and pinkish at the tip, weeping precum, you drool at the sight of it, imagining how good it’d feel stretching you out, imagining how easily it would kiss against all of your most sensitive spots with that length and girth. 

You’re on the verge of an orgasm when he slows his hand to a stop, catching his breath and closing his eyes. Sweat drips off the tips of his fluffy white hair, and he exhales sharply as his thick cock twitches violently in his hand. Shivering, you’re about to slip away to finish yourself in the safety of your room before suddenly you hear, “Did you enjoy the show, gorgeous?” 

In an instant, Gojo’s standing in front of you, door swung wide open, his smooth, damp skin inches away from you. “Wha-?! I- um-” you stutter, avoiding his electric gaze with a blush. “I- I wasn’t- ”

“Don’t lie, sweetheart,” he breathes, tucking an arm around your waist, and you gasp when he drags you into his room, closing the door with a click! Tossing you onto the bed, he rips off your flimsy shorts and baggy shirt in one smooth motion, leaving you bare and quivering underneath his broad figure. 

His bright blue eyes never leave your face for a moment as he lowers his mouth onto one of your stiff nipples, licking and sucking and kissing with abandon. You gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure, whimpering out his name when he slips two long, elegant fingers into your sopping cunt. 

“Dirty, dirty girl,” he purrs into your ear. “Gettin’ off to your big brother’s best friend? You’re so-” He scissors his fingers. “-fuckin’ filthy.” Gojo smirks down at you, handsome face painted with lust. “You’re already dripping and ready f’me. What a slut.” You try to muffle your sobs as Gojo presses his twitching tip against your clit, smearing his pearly pre-cum over your entrance before slamming his entire length into you. 

“Oh, fuck, baby, you feel so good around me,” Gojo moans, dick throbbing eagerly in your wet heat as you cry out his name. He grinds slowly against you, stretching you out even more, letting his girth pulse inside your velvet walls. You can feel every ridge and vein of his hot length inside you, and it sends your brain into overdrive. “K-keep going, Gojo, jus’ move already!” You whine, weakly beating your feverish hands against his chest, and he chuckles, shoving two fingers down your throat. 

“Careful what you wish for, darling.”

SUGURU GETO . . . casting couch audition with the hot interviewer!

“So, you’re here to audition for our talent agency?”

You blink at the startlingly handsome man interviewing you, faint blush spreading over your face before responding, “Yes! That’s right.” 

“Alright, sounds great. My name is Suguru Geto, and I’ll be interviewing you today.” He shifts in the chair across from you, crossing his legs. “So, why do you want this job?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to be an actress or singer since I was a kid, and it’s been my dream ever since!” 

“Mm, I see. What makes you qualified for a position at this agency?” 

“After doing my research, I think the talents I have are an excellent fit for this agency in particular!”

Geto stares at you for a moment, and you fidget on the couch. His gaze is piercing, and the way he looks at you feels strange, like he’s undressing you with his eyes. “Mhm. I agree, actually,” he murmurs, standing from his chair. “Oh, really? That’s great!” You exclaim.

He says nothing more, taking long, relaxed strides until he’s standing right in front of you, towering over your figure. “As a part of the agency’s protocol, I’m going to need you to undress. We need to assess how well you’ll do based off your…physical features.” His fingertips glide over your blouse, and you shiver.

“A-ah, right,” you stammer. Shifting nervously under his broad silhouette, you slowly pull off your blouse and your skirt. Head bowed, you stare down at your trembling hands, wondering why you’re feeling something damp between your legs. 

“Hmm.” Tilting his head, Geto’s obsidian eyes rake over you. “You’re gonna have to take these off too, doll,” he breathes, fingering the strap of your lacy bra with one hand and the band of your matching panties with the other. “U-um, okay, sir.” You nearly whimper out, and Geto bites down on his lip.

Unclipping your bra and letting it fall, your nipples harden as the cool air meets your skin. Swallowing nervously, your hands then shift down to your panties, tugging the delicate lace off. You try to hide the obvious wet patch staining the fabric, but Geto smirks when he sees them. 

His cool hands brush over your thighs, nudging your legs open. “Ah! W-wait, sir, please-” you gasp, clenching your legs shut with embarrassment. “I’m-”

“You’re what?” He breathes, hot breath raising goosebumps on your skin. “You’re wet for me, aren’t you?” His voice is low and husky. “Like a little slut.” 

You flush crimson, thighs trembling. “I- It’s not like that- ” He grabs your knees and forces them apart. “What’s got you dripping all over the couch, then?” Geto chuckles, tracing circles dangerously close to your sopping hole. “Hngh, wait, sir-!” 

But when he starts pressing kisses on your inner thighs, the words vanish from your lips. “What? You gonna say that we can’t do this?” He’s smirking like a devil, placing kitten licks closer and closer to your twitching heat. “B-because we can’t,” you whimper. “Then why’re you a dripping wet mess?” Geto laughs. “Slutty girl. You wanted me to fuck you stupid the second you walked in here, hm?” His tongue finally licks a burning stripe at your hole, and you whine. “S-sir, s-stop- angh-!” 

“Haah- you tell me to stop, but you’re still whining like a whore,” he groans into your cunt. “Callin’ me sir with that slutty voice—‘S-sir, we can’t!’”  he mocks, nose nuzzling into your clit. Geto laps at your hole so patiently, unraveling you so skillfully as he kisses and sucks at your clit, relishing in your whimpers and hiccups.

Before long, you’re creaming on his tongue, trembling and gasping his name as he pulls his pants off.

“Now, shall we get started?” 

NANAMI KENTO . . . sexy secretary relieves her boss during office hours!

“I wonder what’s got Mr. Nanami so worked up,” one of your coworkers muses, watching your boss vanish into his office, door slamming.

“I think it’s the new project coming up,” you reply, sifting through the tall stack of papers left on your desk. “They dumped it on us with no warning, and we’ve got a tight schedule already.” Sighing, you rub your temples.

“Wonder if there’s any way for him to destress. I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Miss Private Secretary,” she nudges you with a twinkle in her eye. Glancing at the closed door of Mr. Nanami’s office, you can’t help but wonder if you can find a way to help him relax…

The next morning, you show up to work wearing a tight dress shirt, pressing just right against your chest, and an equally tight pencil skirt, one that hugs your hips perfectly. You wonder if it’s too much by the time you’re at the office, pulling countless stares, but it’s too late for second thoughts. 

You feel a spark of satisfaction when you walk into Nanami’s office and notice his eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Good morning, Mr. Nanami,” you say evenly, placing a cup of coffee and stack of papers on his desk. “These are the reports that have been submitted…”

And although he should be paying attention to your summary of the bi-monthly reports, all he can think about is how delicious your tits look squeezed against your shirt, and how alluring your ass looks, perked up in that tight skirt. 

“Mr. Nanami? Did you get all that?”

You blink so innocently at him that he feels his cock twitch in his pants. 

“R-Right, yes,” he coughs, covering the faint blush on his face. “So, about the new project? Any news?”

You frown, shaking your head. “Unfortunately not. The deadline is still set for two months from now.” Noticing the sigh he lets out, you pause. “U-um, sir?” You say hesitantly. He glances up at you. “Yes?”

“Is there…anything I can do? For you?” you manage out. He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean- you’ve been so worked up lately, and with the new project, things have been even more stressful…” you fidget with the collar of your dress shirt. “I just want to make sure you’re doing alright, sir.” 

Nanami’s cock twitches again, and he curses when he feels blood rush down to his loins. “How would you suggest I…destress?” he breathes, looking up at you with hooded eyes. You open your mouth, blushing, but no words come out. “Why don’t you just show me, doll?” 

“Mm- mmpf!” your moans are muffled around his cock, jaw aching as he pumps his length in and out of your throat. “Oh, fuck,” Nanami hisses. “You feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.” Head tipping back, he brings a broad, veiny hand to your head, guiding you up and down his dick. 

“Fuckin’ slutty secretary,” he growls as you choke on his fat tip, balls pressed against your chin as drool leaks from your mouth onto his girth. “Probably wanted this the second I hired you,” Thrusting his cock hard into you, you whine around him, tears leaking from your eyes. He brushes a tear off your face with a deceivingly delicate touch before shoving his length down your throat with a rough thrust once more. “Shit, I could’ve been using you like this for years,” Nanami swears, his balls tightening, preparing for his release.

“Coulda been using this-” Thrust. “-slutty-” Thrust. “-throat-” Thrust. “-for years!” You gag as Nanami cums into your mouth, hot white ropes spurting into your throat. Blinking away tears as his salty seed coats your tongue, he pulls out of your mouth, a lewd string of drool and cum connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. 

He’s panting and red-faced looking down at you—all watery doe eyes and puffy lips covered in his cum. You think that he’s gotten his stress out, but when he grabs your waist and bends you over his desk ripping your skirt off, you squeak. 

“We’re not done yet, angel.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO . . . cute babysitter gets paid with sexy dilf dick!

“He’s out cold.”

You giggle, gently poking Megumi’s chubby cheek. He’s fast asleep, tucked into your lap, as the superhero movie he insistedon watching plays in the background. “Tch. Little brat,” Toji huffs, though you don’t miss the affection in his voice. “I’ll put him to bed.” Gently scooping him up, you tuck Megumi into his bed, stroking his hair softly before hopping back to the living room where Toji is still sitting. 

You’d been taking care of Megumi for months now, growing fond of the grumpy, black-haired menace of a kid. But you also found an unexpected bonus in Megumi’s dad, Toji, who is by far the hottest man you’d ever laid your eyes on. He’s all muscle and broad shoulders and seductive green eyes and oh, that deep, husky voice- 

You clench your thighs together, feeling wetness spread on your panties. You can only imagine what he’s like under those grey sweats, and you shiver at the thought. But you don’t let yourself linger on the thought. What you need to do is go home quickly and take care of the issue that’s dripping between your legs—

“Why don’tcha stay the night, doll?” 

Turning your head, your heart thumps against your chest. “Oh, no, I couldn’t bother you like that, Mr. Fushiguro,” You stammer, shaking your head. He narrows his green eyes at you. “I’m not askin’, doll face. It’s too dark out already, just stay the night. The brat will be happy to see ya in the morning, anyways.” 

Swallowing, you resign. “Sure thing, then,” you reply reluctantly, rubbing your thighs together as subtly as you can manage. Toji notices, and with a grin creeping at his scarred lips, asks, “Is there something you need to do at home?” 

Startled, you panic. “N-no! Not all all, Mr. Fushiguro!” you reassure, waving your hands frantically. Giving you an amused look, he stands, stretching his back with a yawn. You can’t help but admire the muscles rippling under the tight black tee he’s wearing— no! No, you can’t be thirsting over Megumi’s dad right now! You shake your head, mind spinning with lust. 

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even notice him now towering over you, muscled arms crossed over his chest. “It’s Toji for you, doll,” he breathes, leaning down to hover in front of your face. “None of that ‘Mr. Fushiguro’ shit. Call me Toji.” 

The tension between you two has your thighs pressed together again, and before you know it-

“Mmpf! Ahn, T-Toji!” you sob, tears pricking at your eyes. He has you pressed against the wall of his room, your legs wrapped around his narrow waist as he pistons his thick fingers in and out of your sopping cunt. 

“Quiet down, doll face,” Toji whispers, grinning. “Wouldn’t wanna wake up the kid, right?” 

You whine in response as his thumb rubs quick circles over your clit, bouncing you up and down on his fingers. “B-But Toji- when you- ugh!” Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your moans as he sucks hickeys onto your neck. He nips at your bare collarbone, working his way down to your perked nipples with reckless abandon. “Cute lil’ thing,” he grunts into your breasts, fondling one with the hand not stuffed up your pussy. “Soon as I saw ya, knew I needed to have ya. Knew this-” He places a harsh slap on your ass. “-fuckin’ slutty lil’ body would listen to me so well.”

“Toooji- ” you moan, eyes rolling back into your head as he thrusts his fingers into you even harder. “C’mon, doll, you’ve already cum once on my fingers. Gimme another,” he presses, smirking as your slick drips down his wrist. You wail out his name, tongue lolling out, drool dripping down your face and chest as you squirt all over his stomach, legs trembling. 

Toji chuckles, licking his slick-covered fingers, admiring your panting, blissed out face. “Ya haven’t even had my cock yet. Can’t believe you’re cumming this hard on just my fingers, pretty.” He picks up your limp body, placing you on the bed, ass in the air.

“But you’re a good girl, right?” He settles his body flush against yours, and you feel his massive cock rub against your ass. “You can take all of me, right?” And you nod wantonly in response, grinding back against him with a whine. He licks his lips with a crooked smirk. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” 

YUTA OKKOTSU . . . slutty classmate convinces nerdy tutor to fuck in the library!

“Focus on the problems, Miss.”

Your math tutor, Yuta, taps on the worksheet in front of you. “This is an important concept, and will most definitely be on the exam.” With a sigh, you drag your eyes away from the library scenery, picking up your pencil. “Yeah yeah, I got it,” you say dismissively, scribbling down some messy answers before returning to your eyes elsewhere. 

Picking up the worksheet, Yuta frowns. “Miss, these answers are completely wrong,” he says, distraught, crossing over your scribbles with a red pen. “You need to use this equation here, and you can’t apply this rule because of the domain…” he blabs on and on, and you find yourself only paying attention to how cute he looks when he’s frustrated.

To be completely honest, you’ve wanted to fuck Yuta the moment you saw him. Shy, nerdy, and utterly adorable, he’s definitely your type. A wicked idea sprouts in your mind as Yuta keeps talking, and you quietly slip a shoe off. 

“Miss? Were you paying attention?” Yuta looks at you with large eyes. “Mhm, ‘course I was,” you hum. “But whaddaya say we take a break from all this?” You smirk at him, extending your leg underneath the table, gliding your foot up his leg until it hovers over his crotch. 

You relish in the way he flushes red, shifting uncomfortably. “M-Miss, what are you doing?” He stammers, and you rub your foot over the hardening bulge in his slacks with a grin. “What do you mean, Yuta?” You say innocently, leaning towards him. He blushes harder as you press down on his erection. “This- isn’t appropriate! We’re in the library, we- you shouldn’t-” he bites down on his lip. “Shouldn’t what, Yuta?” 

You toy with him some more, rubbing circles over his hard-on. “Does it not feel good?” You murmur, noting the muffled whine that slips out of his mouth. “M-Miss, please,” he chokes out. “Not- ugh!” He whimpers, and you feel something damp spread over his crotch. 

You pause, shocked for a moment, before a wide grin spreads across your entire face as you pull your foot back. “Looks like you liked that a lot, Yuta,” you muse, standing up. “Wha- where are you going?” He stutters. You walk to his side of the table, pulling him to his feet. “It’s so late, Yuta, and the library is practically empty. Follow me,” you wink at him. 

Stumbling after you, he covers his cum-stained pants with embarrassment as you lead him through the bookshelves to a secluded corner of the library. “What are we doing here?” Yuta pants, face still flushed from your earlier ministrations. “What do you think?” You press him into the closest bookshelf, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss. 

He freezes, barely reacting to the kiss, and you pull away after a moment. “D’you not want this, Yuta?” You ask softly, staring into his eyes. He stares back, quiet for a moment, before he grabs the back of your head with a surprising amount of fierceness, pushing your lips back into his with a bruising force. 

Yuta drags his lips away with a gasp, but before you can catch your breath, he’s ripping both your pants off, rubbing his shockingly large cock against your dripping pussy. “Yuta, w-wait-!” You squeal as he thrusts himself into you, rocking his hips against yours desperately. He kisses you, even harsher than before, moaning an apology into your lips. “M’sorry, just- just need you, need you so bad- hngh!” He’s whining, rutting against you like an animal in heat. 

“A-ahh, Yuta,” you whimper, weeping cunt throbbing at the lewd plap-plap-plap your pussy makes when his balls slap against your ass. Before you know it, you’re creaming on his cock, arousal drenching his length as he keeps bucking into you. “Oh-ungh, Yuta- it’s too- too much!” You sob, your overstimulated clit throbbing as he reaches a hand down to rub it. “Jus- jus’ gimme one more, pretty girl,” he gasps, hips drilling you at an inhuman pace. “Want you cumming on my cock one- more- time!” 

You muffle a scream as he pulls another orgasm out of your body, made all the more sweet by the feeling of his hot cum spraying inside you, filling you up so deliciously. 

Head dizzy, you lean your head forward on his broad shoulder. “Ugh, Yuta,” you gasp out. “Are you- gonna pull out?” 

He looks at you almost guiltily, and you frown. “Why’re you looking at me like that-huh?” 

You feel something twitch inside you. 

“You’re hard again?!”

[puckstories]

thinking about drunk quinn

I feel like Quinn gets like, clingy drunk. Like when he’s drunk he’s emotional and clingy and annoying in the most adorable way 😭 (lowk not represented in this though I was just writing idk) -Honey

It’s a little after midnight when Quinn stumbles into your shared room, his silhouette framed by the dim light spilling in from the hallway. The faint smell of smoke and beer clings to him—remnants of the night spent with the boys around the backyard fire pit, their voices and laughter echoing long after you’d slipped away. You’d retreated an hour ago, completing your nightly skincare routine before sliding into bed, letting the familiar comfort of Sex and the City drown out the muffled sounds of their conversations.

The door clicks shut behind him, and he leans back against it, a crooked grin on his face that tells you everything you need to know. He’s drunk. Not the tipsy, half-lit version of Quinn you’re used to seeing on rare occasions, but properly drunk—the kind that has him swaying slightly, his head tipped back like the ceiling might steady him. He rarely drinks. Never during the season. Even in the offseason, it’s only the occasional buzz, just enough to relax. But tonight, it seems, was an exception.

You glance away from the TV, your eyes trailing over him. His cheeks are flushed, a faint pink spreading from the cold air outside or maybe from the beer warming his bloodstream. He meets your gaze and grins wider, his lopsided charm cutting through the otherwise ungainly way he’s standing.

“Hey there, killer,” you say, an amused tilt in your tone.

The laugh that tumbles out of him is unrestrained, airy, like he’s been holding onto it for too long. He lets it echo around the room before it fizzles out, leaving him breathless but grinning. For a moment, he just stays there, one hand braced against the door, like he’s trying to hold himself together. Then he pushes off it, his steps uneven but determined as he makes his way to you.

When he flops onto the bed beside you, the mattress dips under his weight, and the smell of him—beer, smoke, just a hint of cologne, and the crisp winter air—wraps around you. He buries his face in the pillow for a second, mumbling something incoherent before turning his head to look at you. His eyes are bright, glassy, but there’s a tenderness in them that’s unmistakable.

“Hi, baby,” he says, his voice low and affectionate, the words soft but warm enough to spread through your chest like the coziest blanket.

You shift, propping yourself up on one elbow, your head resting lightly on your hand. Your free hand finds its way to his hair, fingers slipping through the soft, dark strands. He shuts his eyes the moment you touch him, like the simple motion is enough to quiet the world around him. A faint, lazy smile tugs at his lips, and you feel him exhale, his whole body softening as if he’s giving in to some invisible weight he’s been carrying.

He leans into you instinctively, his body inching closer like its second nature. The space between the two of you disappears as he buries himself deeper into the warmth of the bed and the comfort of your hand.

For a moment, you wonder if he’s already falling asleep, but then his eyes flutter open again. They’re slightly unfocused, still hazy from the alcohol, but there’s a warmth in them that makes your heart ache a little. His gaze drifts lazily around the room, as if he’s piecing together where he is, until it finally lands on the glowing screen of the TV.

“What’re you watching, baby?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, the words slurred just enough to make you smile.

“Sex and the City.” You murmur, keeping your voice quiet like you don’t want to break the spell of the moment.

“Ah, I should’ve known,” he says with a lopsided grin, his laugh bubbling up almost before he’s finished speaking. It’s a carefree, loose kind of laugh, the kind you don’t hear from him often, and it fills the space between you like a favorite song you haven’t heard in a while.

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes flicking back to you. “How many times have you seen it now?”

You smile, shrugging. “Enough to know Carrie’s about to make a terrible decision in this episode.”

He chuckles again, his head sinking further into the pillow. “That’s, like, every episode.”

“Exactly,” You agree, dragging your fingers through his hair again, this time scratching lightly at his scalp. His smile widens, and he lets out a contented hum, the sound vibrating against the quiet hum of the TV.

“You’re too good to me,” he mumbles, his voice trailing off as his eyes grow heavier. The words are simple, but the way he says them—low, honest, and just a little slurred—makes something stir in your chest.

“I know.” You hum, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek.

[illubean]

Nerd!Gojo x Goth!Reader

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: College!AU, Oneshot, Gn!Reader

part of a mini series of oneshots :3 lmk if you want a p2

Warnings: none? reader wears makeup/dresses but is still gn

For someone with the hobbies and interests of the likes of Satoru Gojo, he was pretty popular around campus. Men and women alike often talked about his looks, or the fact his family owned a large corporation, but what they didn't care to talk about was that Satoru Gojo was a complete loser.

Despite how popular or known he is, he only has about four friends and is the captain of the varsity E sports team for crying out loud. Not only that, but he was a computer science major..

Let's just say they're not really...known for good things.

Despite how nerdy and awkward he is, he still managed to draw attention to himself, whereas you preferred to separate from the masses. There was no doubt your dark, elaborate outfits and heavy makeup turned some heads while you roamed the corridors and quads, but other than that you've kept a relatively low profile. Though most people never really paid much mind to you aside from an initial glance, you managed to catch the eye of the aforementioned varsity E sports player.

He thought you were stunning.

From your flowing black dress and large boots to your eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch, the white haired boy was completely and utterly enamored with you. And when a dopey smile forms on Gojo's face and his head gets all spacey, that's when Geto and Shoko realize he's spotted you somewhere across the field. Despite almost everyone preferring the weekend, Gojo's favourite days were Mondays and Wednesdays.

The days you sat in front of him in creative writing.

He spent most of the class periods staring at the back of your head, leaning against his palm with hearts in his eyes as he fantasized about what it would be like to be yours. He would watch as you scribbled away in your notebook, perfecting your story for next week, which he always looked foreword to reading during critique. Gojo has never once had the courage to approach you directly, though. Your ethereal beauty scared him; there was no way someone as perfect as you would even spare him a passing glance.

So, his friends got to listen to him sigh and daydream about you with no end.

"Did you see their outfit today? That lacey corset compliments them so well. And that dark lipstick. I wonder if it's flavored-"

"Holy shit can you shut up? We get it, you like the goth kid," Shoko complained, taking a drag from her cigarette.

Geto chuckled at her annoyance before making a remark of his own.

"Instead of spending all this time wondering, why don't you actually go talk to them."

'You know I can't do that! They're just...they're just so cool," Gojo whined, shrinking into himself and resting his head against the table they were sat at.

"Tough luck then," Shoko said, putting her cigarette out before gathering her belongings and standing from her spot.

"I have to get to my bio lab."

"I should head off too. I have civics in 10 minutes. See ya, Satoru."

And with that, Gojo was left alone having already finished the last of his classes for the day.

Damn it. What do I do now?

Gojo pouted while he continued to sulk for a moment, pondering what he could do with the rest of his day. After a while of sifting through his options, the snowy haired male picked up his bag and made his way to the library.

Maybe I can check out the new VR center.

Gojo's mind began to wander as he thought about all the things he could try on VR. He was lost in thought, feet taking him down the halls of the library before stumbling into someone, the sound of books thudding against the floor snapping him from his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry about that," a soft voice spoke.

Upon raising his head, his eyes came in contact with a pair of (color) ones, his cheeks heating up slightly upon realizing who he just bumped into.

After a beat of silence, his eyes widened as he scrambled to help pick up all of the books you dropped, noticing one in particular that he recognized.

“...'Mythology of Ancient Civilizations’?” Gojo asked before realizing how silly he must have sounded.

You raised an eyebrow. “You familiar?”

Gojo nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ve read it like… five times. I mean, the whole concept of storytelling through myths is incredible. The gods and monsters… They’re like the first fantasy novels, you know?”

Your mouth twitched into a small smile, intrigued at his words.

“Huh. I didn’t take you for someone who’d read stuff like this.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t look it,” Gojo chuckled, scratching the back of his head nervously. “I’m usually more into… y’know, video games and stuff.”

“I could tell,” You comment, motioning towards his street fighter T-shirt. He looked down towards what he was wearing before his face flushed with embarrassment, sinking into himself as you chuckled at him.

"Gojo, right? You're in my creative writing class. I assume you like story telling, huh?"

The male's face lit up at this, before going on a tirade about the topic.

"I love story telling! I'm a computer science major and I'm trying to be a game dev which is why I'm taking creative writing. My favorite types of games are RPGs, like the LOZ franchise or Final Fantasy. They're not just about shooting stuff or solving puzzles, but they're interactive worlds that should matter just as much as books or movies! I'm actually working on a game right now about-" he cut himself off, seeing you now had a sly smirk stretched across your face.

Feeling shy once again, he cast his gaze down before saying "Sorry. I kind of went on a rant there..."

You let out a small, melodic laugh at this.

"It's okay, you're passionate about something. I think that's cute."

His heart fluttered at your words while his blue eyes wandered everywhere but to meet yours. He realized he was still holding on to your books, and he rushed to hold them out to you.

"Uh- sorry again. Here."

You gently took the books from him, fingers slightly brushing past his, setting off the butterflies in his stomach.

Their skin is so soft...

"Well, I'd love to hear about your game sometime, but I gotta get going. You free friday?"

Gojo couldn't believe his ears. You were asking him to hang out!?

"Um- yeah! I have practice from 1-3 though..."

"And by practice, you mean playing League of Legends for 2 hours?" you teased.

He nodded, slightly embarrassed by this.

"Meet me at 4 then. See ya!"

You sauntered past him, waving as you made your way towards the exit.

No way.

I have a date!

[rwrbficrecs]

the mountchristen pharma job by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: Another unique, fun fic! Heist AU meets just a hint of Christmas feels, and combined with the fact that it jumps around in time, this author constantly keeps you on your toes, wondering what will happen next. A must read!

The Flight Before Christmas by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@dot524: Alex is a flight attendant, and he’s good at what he does. But for some reason, this tall blond guy annoys the heck out of him. What will happen when they are both stranded in a snowstorm over the holiday and stuck sharing a hotel room? I’ll give you three guesses. This one had great banter and a dab of angst, and it was such a fun read!

If You're Not Made For Me (Why Did We Fall in Love?) by @captainjunglegym (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Not going to lie, this was a challenging read, which lingers long after! Henry and Alex are in an established relationship, so certain of their future together. Then they stumble over the question of having kids... What follows is messy and ugly, touching and relatable, almost destructive, but resovled in a very sensitive way. This hurt phenomenally good!

london's so nice, back in your seamless rhymes by @firenati0n (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex, newly moved to London, meets Henry on his first day of work while riding the bus into the city. From that day on, they commute together every morning and evening, and with each passing day, their feelings for each other grow. What can I say: it was soft, it was fluffy, it was so sweet. It was everything I needed to feel all warm and happy.

I'm a risk (please take it) by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: A rom-com.' Yeah—my ass. But, Wikipedia says rom-coms focus on romantic relationships and the associated dramatic twists and obstacles. Fair enough, that fits. 3.5 years of pining, angst, hurt—but a happy ending. This fic was incredible !! I can’t stop thinking about it, weeks later I’m still imagining how Alex & Henry might be doing now. Absolutely brilliant!

kiss me on this cold December night by strwbrryfox (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you like holiday fics and coffee shop AUs, this is the fic for you! This fic is oblivious Alex, pining firstprince, and the ins and outs of being part of a workplace environment during the holidays all wrapped up in a pretty bow that will leave you swooning.

Tell Me All Your Secrets by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@dot524: Every time Alex visits his sister in NYC, he ends up hanging out with her best friend, Henry. Henry’s been gone on Alex from Day 1, but he assumed Alex was painfully straight. When a short-term relationship with Liam helps Henry realize that’s not the case, things start to change. The story culminates with Alex experiencing Pride in NYC for the first time. A delightful slow-burn with lots of yearning and realizations - such a satisfying and fun read.

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by @here-queer-jointpain-severe (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This fic, the author's fic for the A Royal Big Bang event, has everything: introspection, fantasy, Alex going above and beyond for his love for Henry (as he should!), and the complex plot and suspense that will have you clicking the next chapter button until you reach the end. This fic is such a good glimpse into so many of the relationships in the book from such a unique angle!

Like Flowers In The Springtime, Every Day Is Valentine’s (That’s What Your Love’s Like) by @rockyroadkylers (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This has to be some of the fluffiest post-canon fluff ever written, I’m sure of it! After two years together, Henry is more than ready to sweep Alex off his feet in the most extravagant way possible. Of course he is over-the-top—what did you expect? And Alex, bless him, is completely here for it—he loves it and loves Henry, and I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle. An absolutely wonderful comfort read!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[k1ng-ej]

Hiii bestie >:3 maybe about some fluff with art? Something along the lines where Art kills the readers assaulter/stalker

Devil in disguise

Art The Clown x Reader

Note: first time writing for this silly man and writers block completely messed up how i originally wanted to write this </3

As you tread carefully along the dimly lit sidewalk toward your apartment, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, seeking warmth from the biting chill of the night. The hour was late; the roads were deserted, not a single vehicle in sight, and the absence of life around you heightened the sense of isolation. Working the closing shift had left you with the unsettling task of walking home alone in the dark—a decision that felt increasingly unwise with each passing moment. Yet, the lure of extra income was too tempting to resist. Living solo and managing the costs of rent was a constant struggle, and you were barely making ends meet.

You shivered, instinctively rubbing your arms to generate warmth as you walked, your eyes darting around for any lurking threats that might be stalking the vulnerable—like you. Just as you started to relax, convinced there was nothing amiss, your senses remained on high alert.

Before you fully grasped the situation, you found yourself yanked into a shadowy alley and forcefully pressed against a brick wall, your head crashing against it. The world started to swirl around you, and a low groan escaped your lips as you struggled to focus on the figure standing before you. With your head pounding and your ears ringing, a male voice gradually broke through the fog in your mind, barely reaching your awareness.

"Are you listening? I said give me your fucking wallet!" he hissed, pressing something cold to your neck.

You blinked, trying to gather your bearings and carefully deciding your next moves. Cursing under your breath, you held your hands up in surrender. "Fuck man! It's in my right pocket!"

Your attacker pressed the sharp tip of a knife against your throat, while his other hand rummaged through your pocket for your wallet. He lacked caution, and you winced as you felt warm blood begin to trickle down your neck and chest. It felt inevitable, a grim reality you had anticipated. Anger mixed with despair bubbled within you as you realized the repercussions—how would you manage to pay this month’s rent? Meanwhile, the flicker of defiance sparked in your mind, but you questioned your chances against a blade. The odds were stacked harshly against you.

The man in front of you muttered curses under his breath while frantically searching for your wallet, his intense focus momentarily easing the pressure on your neck. This was your chance. You swiftly drove your knee into him, striking him between the legs. He gasped and staggered back, clearly taken off guard. Seizing the opportunity, you bolted out of the dark alley and onto the sidewalk. For a fleeting moment, you contemplated yelling for help, but the late hour reassured you that everyone was likely sound asleep, oblivious to your plight.

Your lungs screamed with exertion as you raced across the street, desperately trying to put space between yourself and your attacker. To your shock, he recovered quickly from the blow and was close on your heels. Distracted by your fear, you failed to see the person in front of you and collided with their chest, stumbling backward with a startled yelp. You immediately began to apologize as you hurriedly scrambled to your feet.

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief as you faced an unexpected figure: a man clad in a striking black and white clown costume. His face wore an emotionless expression, and a black trash bag was slung casually over his shoulder. Despite your instinctive skepticism about this peculiar stranger, desperation drove you to seek his assistance in escaping the knife-wielding pursuer behind you. After all, how threatening could a clown really be?

"Please, I need help! T-there's a guy chasing me-"

“Hey!” Your pursuer has finally caught up, slowing down to a jog behind you. He glanced between you and the clown, donning an innocent smile while concealing the knife behind his back. “Why did you run away? Come here,” he called out, attempting to lure you closer with his free hand, pretending to be your friend.

You stood your ground beside the enigmatic clown, clinging to the hope that he was merely an ordinary person who would come to your aid. You could almost see the gears whirring in his mind as he glanced back and forth between you and your assailant, seemingly grasping the gravity of the situation. A wave of unease washed over you when a sinister grin crept across his face, and without warning, he dropped the trash bag, letting it fall with a series of unsettling clatters. Your attacker, now visibly confused, appeared to lose patience as he brandished the knife threateningly in front of him.

"Listen, if you both don't give me your money now you'll regret it," he threatened, inching closer.

The clown raised a finger, signaling for everyone to hold on, before eagerly rummaging through his trash bag, clearly searching for something particular. You instinctively stepped back from the unfolding scene, your heart pounding in your chest. Uncertainty gripped you; all you wanted was to return to your run-down apartment and sink into the solace of sleep.

The clown retrieved an object from the bag but swiftly concealed it behind his back, wagging a finger at your attacker while beckoning him to approach. With a mix of caution and curiosity, the attacker stepped closer, attempting to catch a glimpse of what the clown was hiding.

In an instant, all that met your senses was the sight of the clown swinging, the vivid red splattering across the scene, and the horrifying sound of a skull cracking. You gasped, recoiling as warm crimson droplets splashed onto your face. With a trembling hand, you brushed one of the blood droplets from your cheek, only to grimace at the deep stains now marking your skin.

You stood frozen in horror as your attacker staggered backward, collapsing onto the ground. The knife slipped from his hand, clattering away in the chaos. He let out a cry, desperately cradling his head with trembling hands. Meanwhile, the clown stood over him, a sinister smile playing on his lips, reveling in the scene before him. A chilling uncertainty gripped you—who was more terrifying? You took careful steps backward, your eyes fixated on the clown, who loomed menacingly over the fallen man, gripping a hammer with eerie satisfaction.

Without a moment's pause, the clown lifted the hammer and brought it crashing down onto your attacker's skull with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered across the sidewalk, forcing you to fight the urge to vomit at the gruesome sight. You turned your gaze away, unaware of the tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the blood droplets. All around you echoed the horrifying sound of bone shattering; the victim's screams had long since subsided. In that chilling moment, a fleeting thought crossed your mind: Would you be considered a suspect in his murder?

A sudden tap on your shoulder made you jump, and you turned to confront the clown, whose makeup now bore red splashes against the stark white. Every instinct screamed for you to flee, to escape as far as you could, yet you remained frozen, your eyes wide in terror.

Your mind lagged far behind, preoccupied with the recent events, barely noticing the clown taking your hand and placing something soft in your palm. As you glanced down, you found a small rag. The clown then gestured to his own face, making a wiping motion.

"Oh… t-thanks." You murmured softly, swiping the cloth across your cheeks to remove the blood splatters. For reasons unknown, you glanced at the clown, raising your brows in silent question, as if seeking confirmation that you had cleaned yourself thoroughly.

He placed his finger on his chin, tilting his head thoughtfully from side to side before finally taking the cloth from your hands. You held your breath as he began to reach for your face. His touch was feather-light as he delicately wiped away the spots you had overlooked. That mischievous grin returned, and he nodded in satisfaction at his handiwork.

You stood in both shock and confusion before finally breaking the silence.

"Um… thanks? For helping me."

The clown waved his hand dismissively in front of him while shaking his head, 'no problem'. You couldn't help but notice how incredibly expressive he was with his body language. While everyone around you would likely have told you to be terrified of him—or even suggested you call the cops after witnessing him murder a man without a shred of remorse—you found yourself feeling a strange sense of gratitude for what he had done, plus the man was intending to rob you and, in your mind, somehow had it coming. In a moment of surprising courage, this gratitude outweighed your fear, leading you to invite the clown to the nearby 24-hour pizza place for a meal, a decision that felt both reckless and oddly thrilling.

[sylvxrum]

Small tidbit about system!torbek

(spoilers for Torbek’s backstory)

Torbek said that he has ‘always’ had voices in his head (episode 6 ouaw), voices that he has heard since he can remember.

At first it was just Torbek and one other voice, the voice of a proper gentleman. The voice was quiet and infrequently at first, he would tell Torbek how to handle himself. Maybe he was always there but Torbek didn’t hear him till he was in his early teens. Torbek named the voice Jerry, he said his name was Jeremiah but Jerry seemed more fitting. Jerry told Torbek that he would take care of the scary memories and he did, he always did. With Jerry around, he didn’t have to be scared all the time.

For a long time, it was just the two of them. Young Torbek couldn’t explain why he had a voice in his head or the blank spot in his memory, but he knew he wasn’t alone. One day, it wasn’t just the two of them anymore. There was another one, the other one. Torbek couldn’t hear him, but he knew he was there, lurking. He didn’t introduce himself, he didn’t even say much. Jerry couldn’t hear him either but the both of them had blank spot where he must have filled. Jerry deemed him the Duke whilst Torbek always just called him the other.

It was mostly smooth sailing for Torbek, minus the stench and the anxiety and the lost time and the lack of friends and the ache in his back. Smooth sailing, really. Sailing that brought his lumbering form into Carnivàle Lecroux, finding himself under the employment of one Mr Lecroux. Jerry had said it was about time they turned their life around, in the means of employment of course.

That’s when a new voice joined the crew, this one was particularly nice. She was always gentle with Torbek, she would sit in consciousness with him and help him. She introduced herself as Clementine or Clem. She was angry with everyone who wasn’t Torbek, jumping quickly to defend him (at any cost). She would always try to argue with Mr Kremy… much to Torbek’s horror. Despite her temper, she was the kindest voice he had ever heard.

There wasn’t another for a long time, a very long time. Though there certainly didn’t need to be, the four of them had a hard enough time working there own lives out. Torbek wished that he would go back to when it was just him, before he knew that any of them were even there.

The fifth voice was angry, angrier than anything Torbek had heard before. They were even angrier than the Duke and that was hard to come by. They had the voice of scientist, proper and precise. They would speak in cruel tones, reminding anyone who would listen that this form was a mistake. When Elm- as the voice introduced themselves as- was in charge, Torbek found his body injured and unkempt. Worse than his usual state, shockingly.

The sailing got a lot rougher as the years went on, especially after the witchlight carnival. That’s when Torbek’s memory went dark. Clem tells him that the Duke protected him when she couldn’t. When his mind became his own, his body had morphed horribly. He tried to dig the vile tubes from his skin but when he got close his vision would fade and when he came too, they were still there. He wandered amongst the fey in complete silence for the first time in many many years, the voice suddenly gone or… unreachable. Torbek hoped that the pink liquid in his veins had silenced them. Maybe he knew better though.

Years passed, years where it was just Jerry. Torbek had to take a backseat, he was a danger to the body. Jerry tended to the tubes in their body and made peace with the control he gained. That same control that he lost when he stumbled upon an inn at the end of a road. No one is to say what happened on that day, none other than the Duke himself.

////

Ok so, alter roles (if it wasn’t made clear already):

•Torbek- he/him, host

•Jerry/Jeremiah- he/him, memory holder and co-host

•The Duke- he/it, protector

•Clementine/Clem- she/her, Inner system help and protector

•Elm- they/it, persecutor and introject

This is not a fully formed hc, but I wanted to share the bit about the forming of the system. I haven’t decided a system name yet (maybe witchlight system??), open to suggestions tho.

Thank you for reading:D

[sweetmisery]

first kiss with piwon | maknae line

pairing: intak | soul | jongseob x female!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: pt 2 of sharing your first kiss with piwon, hope you like it :)

part 1 - hyung line

INTAK - Nervous Hearts

The cozy hum of the restaurant surrounded you, warm candlelight flickering between you and Intak as you sat at your table. The soft clink of silverware and low chatter of other diners created a soothing atmosphere, but you couldn’t help noticing how nervous Intak seemed.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his napkin, his gaze darting between you and the menu as if he were afraid to mess up even the simplest decision. You tried to keep the mood light, but a part of you wondered why he was so tense.

Then again, maybe you already knew.

Earlier in the week, Theo had let slip the reason for Intak’s nervousness.

“So,” Theo started, resting his arms on the guitar he was lazily strumming minutes before as he leaned back in his chair. “Intak likes you.”

Your heart skipped. The words hit you like a soft blow, and for a second, you weren‘t sure if you heard him right. “Wait- what?” you blurted, sitting up straighter.

Theo laughed, shaking his head. “You heard me.”

The disbelief bubbled up, and yet… it didn‘t. Not completely. You blinked at him, trying to piece together your thoughts, but all you can picture is Intak - confident, easygoing Intak - stumbling over his words the last time he talked to you. The way he avoided your eyes and suddenly seemed more interested in his shoelaces. The way his smile lingered just a little too long before he quickly looked away, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.

“You’re serious?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Dead serious.” Theo grinned, setting the guitar aside. “He told me himself.”

The admission sent another jolt through you. Intak told Theo? Theo, your protective, overbearing older brother? The idea was almost laughable.

“And?” you pressed, your curiosity outweighing your shock. “What did you say?”

Theo leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he gave you a pointed look. “I gave him the big-brother talk, of course.”

Your brows furrowed. “The big-brother talk?”

“You know, the ’don‘t hurt her or else‘ talk.” He shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Told him I’ll break his nose if he hurts you, that kind of thing. He looked like he was about to faint, though. Honestly, I think the guy’s more scared of disappointing you than me.”

You had just stared at him, completely floored. "You're unbelievable," you had muttered, pressing your palm to your forehead.

You were still processing the sheer absurdity of Theo having this conversation with Intak - your Intak, the one who practically radiated self-assurance on stage but turned into a completely different person around you.

Theo picked up his guitar again, strumming a lazy tune like he hadn’t just turned your world upside down. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said casually.

“For what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For giving him the green light,” he said with a smirk. “Otherwise, he probably would’ve just kept staring at you from across the room like a weirdo.”

You groaned, throwing a pillow at him as he laughed. But beneath the teasing and the embarrassment, there was that same warm feeling growing inside you.

Intak liked you.

Theo’s expression softened, though there was still a mock sternness in voice. “But just so you know, I’m watching him. And you, too.”

Back in the present, you glanced at Intak as he nervously adjusted his silverware, his expression so earnest that you felt your heart soften even more.

“You okay?” you asked gently.

“Y-Yeah,” he said quickly, though his fingers fumbled as he reached for his glass. “I’m fine. Totally fine.”

But as soon as the words left his mouth, his hand slipped, and the glass tipped over. The dark liquid spilled across the table, pooling near your plate and dripping onto your dress.

Intak froze, his eyes wide with panic. “Oh no! I-I’m so sorry!” He frantically reached for napkins, but they scattered from his hands onto the floor.

You couldn’t help it - you laughed. The situation, his reaction, all of it was too endearing.

“Hey, it’s fine,” you said, holding up a hand to stop him before he knocked anything else over. “It’s just a little spill. Don’t worry about it.”

“But your dress-”

“I promise, it’s okay,” you said, smiling to reassure him. “Really.”

He slumped back in his chair, his face burning with embarrassment. “I… I don’t know why I’m so clumsy tonight.”

You tilted your head playfully. “I have a theory.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“You’re probably scared of Theo.”

His startled laugh broke through his nervous energy, and he finally met your gaze, his expression softening. “You’re not wrong about that.”

You grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from him.”

The playful comment seemed to relax him a little, and as the evening went on, the tension between you eased. But his clumsiness wasn’t finished yet.

The cool evening breeze brushing your face softly as you and Intak strolled down the path of the park. Dinner had been a mixture of laughter and clumsiness, but neither of you seemed to mind.

Intak walked a step behind you, his hands tucked nervously into his pockets. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but you could sense his lingering embarrassment from earlier.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you teased, turning to look at him.

“I just…” He trailed off, looking up at the stars before glancing back at you. “I’m still kind of kicking myself about dinner. I spilled my drink, dropped the napkins… I must’ve looked so ridiculous.”

You stopped walking, stepping in front of him to block his path. “You know what I think?”

His eyes widened slightly as he tilted his head. “What?”

“I think your clumsiness made tonight even better.”

His cheeks turned pink, and he scratched the back of his neck. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m serious,” you said with a soft laugh, nudging his arm. “It’s cute when you’re nervous. You’re adorable, Intak.”

The words seemed to catch him off guard. He ducked his head, a shy smile spreading across his face.

You continued walking, spotting an empty bench under a nearby tree. “Let’s sit for a bit,” you suggested, gesturing toward it.

Intak followed and sat down beside you, though as he did, he misjudged the edge of the bench and nearly fell off. You burst into laughter as he quickly steadied himself, his face turning a deep shade of red.

“I swear I don’t normally do this,” he muttered, groaning.

“Sure, sure,” you teased, still laughing. “You’re just keeping me entertained, right?”

“Something like that,” he mumbled, slouching slightly. Then, his voice grew quieter. “I just… I don’t know why I’m like this tonight.”

You turned to look at him, tilting your head. “You don’t?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Okay, maybe I do. It’s because… I like you. A lot. And I wanted tonight to be perfect, but instead, I’ve been a walking disaster.”

His honesty made your chest feel warm, and a smile tugged at your lips. “Intak…”

Before he could finish his flustered apology, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His breath hitched in surprise, and when you pulled back, his wide-eyed expression made you giggle.

He raised a hand to touch his lips, his cheeks glowing red. “Wha… Did you just-”

“Yes, I did,” you said, cutting him off with a grin. “And for the record, tonight was perfect. Exactly because you were you.”

His lips twitched into a sheepish smile, and his gaze softened. “You really mean that?”

“Of course,” you said. “But just to make sure you believe me…” You leaned in again, this time kissing him a little longer.

When you pulled away, Intak looked completely dazed, his face lit up with an awkward yet happy smile. “You’re amazing,” he said quietly.

You laughed softly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re adorable. So, stop worrying so much.”

For the first time that evening, Intak relaxed completely. The two of you sat there on the bench, your head resting on his shoulder and your fingers brushing lightly as the night carried on around you.

SOUL - One Step Closer

The clock on your desk blinked 11:47 PM, its numbers glowing faintly in the dimly lit office. Most of the staff had left hours ago, the once-bustling corridors of the label now eerily silent. You rubbed your tired eyes, a small pile of notes and schedules still waiting for your attention. You’d been organizing P1Harmony’s upcoming schedules for weeks, ensuring every detail was perfect. They worked so hard; the least you could do was support them.

As you tidied up your papers, a sudden thought made your stomach sink. My purse. You’d left it in the practice room earlier when you were running errands. Letting out a small groan, you grabbed your jacket and headed for the elevators. The practice room was on the third floor, and with every step closer, you braced yourself for the faint hope it wouldn’t still be locked.

When you arrived, however, the sound of muffled music greeted you through the door. It wasn’t just anyone practicing - this was P1Harmony’s practice room.

Curious, you opened the door cautiously and peeked inside. There he was: Soul.

Dressed in casual sweats and a tank top, his hair slightly damp from sweat, he moved to the beat with precision, repeating the same step over and over. You leaned against the doorframe, watching his determination. His members always joked that he was an “alien,” someone who could be weird and out of this world, but to you, his quirks were nothing short of adorable.

You cleared your throat gently, and Soul spun around, startled. His expression softened when he saw it was you. “Oh, it’s just you,” he said, breathing hard. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, stepping inside. “It’s so late. Why aren’t you resting?”

He smiled faintly, brushing back a strand of hair from his forehead. “I needed more practice. There are still parts I keep messing up.”

“Messing up?” you echoed, incredulous. “Soul, you were incredible today. Everyone thought so.”

But his smile faltered. He dropped his gaze to the floor, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I’m nervous about the comeback,” he admitted softly. “I don’t want to mess up and disappoint the fans. They expect so much from us, and I… I don’t know if I’m good enough.”

Hearing his doubt struck a chord in you. You’d never seen him so vulnerable before. “Soul,” you said firmly, walking closer. “You’re amazing. You’re one of the most talented dancers I’ve ever seen. Your fans love you, they adore everything about you. There’s no way you could ever disappoint them.”

His eyes met yours, searching, as if trying to find truth in your words. Finally, he sighed and gave a small nod. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I needed to hear that.”

A silence settled between you, comfortable yet charged. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you want to learn the dance?”

“What?” you laughed, taken aback. “Soul, you know I can’t dance.”

He grinned, his usual playful side returning. “Everyone can dance if they want to. Come on, I’ll teach you.” Before you could protest, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the center of the room.

For the next few minutes, you stumbled through the choreography, laughing at yourself while Soul patiently guided you through each move. He showed you the steps slowly, his hand resting lightly on your waist as he adjusted your posture or corrected your footing. His touch was warm, grounding, but it also sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach.

You felt at ease with him, even when you messed up. His laughter filled the room, infectious and pure, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. For a brief moment, it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of you.

Then it happened. You slipped on the polished floor, your footing giving way. Before you could hit the ground, Soul caught you.

His arm wrapped securely around your waist, his other hand steadying your shoulder. You were so close, his face mere inches from yours. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, your breath caught somewhere in your chest. The world seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with him. Time hung suspended, the air between you thick with something unspoken.

“Soul,” you murmured, interrupting whatever he was about to say. You leaned in and pressed your lips softly to his.

Soul froze.

The kiss was soft, fleeting, but it carried so much that you’d been holding back for what felt like forever. Your heart raced as you leaned back slightly to gauge his reaction. His eyes were wide, his lips still parted in surprise.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, suddenly unsure. “I didn’t mean to-”

He blinked, snapping out of his trance. “No,” he interrupted quickly, his voice soft. “Don’t be sorry.”

The corner of his lips quirked upward, a small, shy smile spreading across his face. The warmth in his eyes made your chest tighten, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t plan for you to find out like this,” you admitted, your cheeks burning. “I just… I couldn’t help myself.”

Soul’s smile grew a little wider as he let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess we’re both full of surprises tonight.”

You chuckled nervously, but before you could say anything else, Soul spoke again. “You know,” he said, glancing down, “sometimes I feel like I’m not… normal. Like, maybe I don’t fit in with everyone else. The guys always joke that I’m weird, and I laugh it off, but…” He paused, his voice trailing off.

Your heart ached at his words. “Soul,” you said gently, reaching for his hand. “That’s what makes you you. The way you think, the way you are - it’s what makes you special. I’ve always loved that about you.”

The word “loved” hung in the air between you, but you didn’t take it back. You wanted him to know.

Soul’s gaze lifted to meet yours again, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made you hold your breath. “You really mean that?” he asked softly.

“Of course,” you replied. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. The small gesture sent a wave of warmth through you. Then, after a moment, he tilted his head slightly. “So… does this mean I get to teach you the rest of the dance now?”

You burst out laughing, the tension in the room breaking. “Soul!”

“What?” he said, grinning. “I mean, you’ve got potential. I think we could make a good team.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn,” he countered, his grin widening. “But seriously…” He hesitated, then stepped a little closer, his expression softening. “Thank you. For everything you said earlier - and for this.”

Before you could reply, he leaned in and kissed you. This time, the kiss lingered, unhurried and full of unspoken feelings. When he pulled back, his face was tinged with the faintest blush.

“You’re amazing,” he said simply, his voice steady but quiet.

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a smile tugging at your lips. “So are you,” you whispered.

He exhaled deeply, glancing toward the clock on the far wall. “It’s late. We should probably call it a night.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, though part of you didn’t want to leave this moment behind.

As you both made your way toward the door, you paused and turned back to him. “Wait,” you said, and he raised a curious eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“There’s one more thing I need to do before we leave,” you said, stepping closer.

Soul tilted his head, clearly puzzled. “What?”

You leaned in and kissed him again. This time, his lips curved into a smile against yours, and when you pulled back, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Okay,” he said, laughing softly. “Now we can leave.”

The two of you walked out of the practice room together, the quiet hallways of the label feeling a little less empty as your footsteps echoed side by side.

You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for now, you were content.

JONGSEOB - Unexpectedly Us

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays seeping through the narrow windows of the studio as you stepped into the familiar building. Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you glanced at the message again. It was from Jongseob: “Can you come to the studio? I need help with something.”

Your heartbeat quickened, though you weren’t sure why. You had been by his side for years now: his best friend, his constant cheerleader, the one who always answered his calls. But there was something about him asking for your help in moments like this that made you feel… special. Maybe it was because you’d seen his journey from the very start, since the first time he nervously auditioned as a trainee, barely daring to dream of becoming an idol.

When you reached the door to the recording studio, you heard muffled sounds coming from inside. Pushing it open, you saw him immediately. There he was, standing in the booth, long hair tied into a half ponytail, strands falling loosely against his sharp features. He looked frustrated, pacing back and forth, muttering words under his breath as if rehearsing something he just couldn’t get right.

You’d never seen him like this before - so wound up and on edge. Usually, Jongseob radiated a quiet confidence, the kind that came naturally with his undeniable talent. You leaned against the mixing console, watching him for a moment, hesitating to interrupt his thoughts.

Finally, you pressed the button for the booth speaker and said teasingly, “You needed my help?”

The sound of your voice startled him. He jumped slightly and turned toward you, wide-eyed.

“Yah!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest dramatically. “You scared me!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, and as your laughter filled the room, his lips curved into a smile. Small at first, but then growing wider, accompanied by that high-pitched giggle you’d always loved.

He stepped closer to the booth window, his hands resting against the glass. “I need help with this rap,” he admitted, his tone softening. “I just… I can’t get it right.”

You nodded and took a seat on the other side of the console. “Alright. Show me what you’ve got so far.”

As he returned to the microphone, you settled in, resting your chin on your hand. Watching him like this, immersed in his work, focused, and pouring his emotions into every line, made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t fully understand. His voice was like a rhythm that only he could master, each word laced with a passion that had always made your heart flutter.

But today, that fluttering feeling was almost overwhelming. You shook your head, trying to focus on helping him, not on the way his jaw tensed when he concentrated, or how his hair fell into his eyes when he tilted his head.

When he finally finished recording the verse, he stepped out of the booth, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. His long hair was slightly disheveled, and his cheeks were faintly pink from exertion.

“Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You broke into applause, grinning. “That was amazing. Honestly, I don’t know why you even needed my help.”

He giggled again,higher this time, a little shy, and your heart clenched. You wanted to freeze this moment, to hold onto the sound of his laugh forever.

“I mean it,” you continued, standing up. “Why do you always call me when you need help? You could ask one of the producers, or someone with more experience-”

“Because…” he interrupted, looking down at his hands. His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “Because I feel like whenever you’re around, I’m at ease. The words… they just come naturally when you’re here.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of his confession sinking in.

“Jongseob…” you murmured, unsure of what to say. But before you could gather your thoughts, he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone firmer this time. “It’s not just today. It’s always been like this. Whenever you’re around, I feel different. And lately…” He trailed off, playing with his fingers nervously. “Lately, it’s been getting stronger.”

“What are you saying?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, he lifted his gaze to meet yours. “I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling yet, but… I know I don’t want to hide it anymore. Not from you.”

Your heart raced, the weight of his words leaving you breathless. You took a step closer to him, his familiar scent enveloping you. “Jongseob…”

He held up a hand, his cheeks flushed. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I know this is-”

“Wait,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “You’re not the only one who feels this way.”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

You smiled, your chest tightening with a mix of nerves and exhilaration. “Yeah. I do.”

He let out a high-pitched giggle, the sound filling the small studio. You couldn’t stop yourself. You took another step toward him, cupping his face gently in your hands. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and his cheeks burned red.

“That laugh,” you said softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “That’s exactly why I fell for you.”

His lips parted as if to respond, but before he could, you leaned in, your heart pounding. Your lips brushed his, a tentative, fleeting touch, and the world seemed to pause.

For a second, neither of you moved. The soft press of your lips against his felt both surreal and electric, like a line you’d both been toeing for years had suddenly disappeared. But when you pulled back slightly, just enough to see his expression, you were met with a sight you’d never forget.

Jongseob’s eyes were wide, his lips parted slightly in shock, and his cheeks burned an even deeper shade of red. His long lashes fluttered as he blinked at you, clearly at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue?” you teased, your voice light, though your heart was racing.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, his brows furrowing as he tried to process what had just happened. You couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, it wasn’t often you saw Jongseob so completely flustered.

“Yah,” he finally muttered, his voice low and shaky. He glanced down, avoiding your eyes, but the redness in his cheeks betrayed him. “What was that?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm, I think they call that a kiss.”

He groaned, dragging a hand through his hair as if trying to hide his face. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.

You grinned, stepping closer to him again. “Oh, come on, you’re the one who basically confessed first. What, you didn’t expect me to do something about it?”

“I didn’t expect you to-” He cut himself off, turning his back to you as if to regain his composure. “I was trying to be serious…”

“And I was serious too,” you interrupted, your tone softening. “I meant it when I said I felt the same way.”

He turned to face you again, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the teasing stopped. The air between you grew heavy with unspoken feelings, and you could see the vulnerability in his gaze.

“Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not just… saying that to mess with me?”

You sighed, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “Jongseob, do I look like I’m joking?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No,” he murmured.

“Good,” you said with a small smile. Then, unable to resist the chance to tease him again, you added, “But seriously, you should’ve seen your face just now. You looked like a deer in headlights.”

His mouth fell open, and you could see the mixture of embarrassment and indignation flash across his features. “Yah! Don’t do that!”

“Do what?” you asked innocently, biting back a laugh.

“Make fun of me!” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is already hard enough, and you’re just- ugh.” He let out a frustrated groan, but you could see the faint smile tugging at his lips despite his protests.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not sounding sorry at all. “But you make it so easy. You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“Stop,” he whined, hiding his face in his hands.

Your laughter filled the studio again, and when he peeked at you through his fingers, his pout made your chest ache in the best way. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” you said, raising your hands in surrender. “But seriously, you’re not mad, right?”

He dropped his hands and gave you a long look. “Mad?” He paused, then shook his head, his expression softening. “No. I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The tension between you shifted, turning quieter, sweeter.

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence. “You know I really do love your giggle, right? It’s kind of my favorite thing about you.”

“Why do you keep bringing that up?” he mumbled, his ears turning red. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” you insisted. “It’s adorable. Just like you.”

His eyes widened, and you could see his ears turning an even deeper shade of red. “You’re seriously going to kill me,” he muttered, looking away.

You smiled and reached out, taking his hand in yours. “I mean it, Jongseob. You’re amazing - onstage, in the studio, and… just as you are. You don’t have to figure everything out right now. I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb brushing against yours, and when he glanced back up at you, his expression was softer, calmer.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “For being here. For… everything.”

“Always,” you replied, squeezing his hand gently.

For a moment, it felt like the world outside the studio didn’t exist - just you, him, and the quiet hum of the equipment around you.

And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you added with a playful grin, “But seriously, next time you call me for ‘help,’ at least give me a warning before you make me fall for you all over again.”

He laughed - soft at first, then louder, that high-pitched giggle you loved spilling out of him. “You’re so annoying,” he said, shaking his head.

“And yet, here you are, holding my hand,” you shot back.

He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

© sweetmisery - please do not repost my works! ♡

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

I love it when I get this kind of hint while playing a horror game because it immediately makes me go

[chimerafeathers]

[ on youtube ]

a concept for the type of OP i'd love to see for the second season of Dungeon Meshi! both s1 OPs are great, but i'm really hoping for one that captures both the "dangerous fantasy adventure" and "comedic cooking adventure" aspects of the series in equal measure, because it's the integration of those two concepts that makes the series special to me. the joyous whimsy and the dramatic horrors are equally important!!

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit. 

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 

He had to get out of here. 

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox

[terpia]

Had an unexpected celebrity encounter

[famewolf]

I want to play Dragon's Dogma 2 so badly!!!! it sucks there was no pre-download option for PC, but thankfully Percy said he'd turn my computer on and download it for me while I'm at work today

probably won't start playing until tomorrow, but I've got my vacation hours all sorted out and I'm rearing to go!

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : SAVE IN HIS ARMS : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hwang In-ho x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff and slight angst?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: Squid Game

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: In the chaos of the third game, you were trampled and left helpless—until In-ho found you. Carrying you to safety, he calmed your panic, proving you weren’t alone.

YOU’D THOUGHT THE FIRST GAME WAS BAD—Red Light, Green Light with its chilling, mechanical doll and the blood-curdling sound of gunshots that had followed anyone who dared to move at the wrong time. The sight of so many bodies dropping like flies was forever burned into your memory. But you had made it through, sticking close to In-ho and a few other players who seemed capable of keeping their cool under pressure.

The second game, Six Legs, had pushed you even closer to the edge. Six people tied together by the ankles, forced to move as one cohesive unit while completing a series of absurd mini-games. The first challenge involved a game of Ddakji, followed by Flying stone, Gong-gi, Spinning top and at last Jegi. Every challenge was absolutely nerve wracking. Every stumble risked pulling the entire group down.

“Stop panicking,” In-ho had said sharply when it was your turn to play Gong-gi. His tone was firm but not unkind, and his steady grip on your arm had kept you from collapsing altogether.

“I’m trying,” you’d whispered, your voice barely audible over the yelling of other groups.

“You’ll be fine,” he had replied, glancing at you with those piercing eyes. “Just focus on me.”

It was his calm presence that had carried you through. Somehow, your group had made it out alive, but not without leaving a part of your sanity behind.

Now, the third game was underway, and the tension was unbearable.

The platform beneath your feet spun relentlessly, the dizzying motion making it hard to stay upright. The eerie song blaring over the speakers didn’t help; its cheerful notes felt like a cruel joke, mocking your desperation.

You clung to the rail for balance, your eyes scanning the crowd for In-ho. He stood a few feet away, his tall, composed frame unshaken by the platform’s motion. Gi-hun, Jung-bea, and Dea-ho were close by, the four of them keeping together in a loose cluster. You tried to move toward them, but the spinning platform made every step feel like a gamble.

Finally, the music stopped.

The platform jolted to a halt, nearly sending you to your knees. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and shuffling feet.

“Two,” the woman’s voice announced over the speakers, detached and emotionless.

For a moment, there was silence as the words registered. Then chaos erupted. Players screamed, shoving and clawing at one another in their desperation to find a partner.

You stumbled forward, trying to push your way through the throng of bodies. “In-ho!” you called out, your voice trembling with panic.

Through the chaos, you caught a glimpse of him, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. He was moving toward you, his path deliberate, but the surging mass of players made it nearly impossible to reach him.

“Time is running out. Please form your groups,” the woman’s voice droned on, unbothered by the chaos.

Someone slammed into you from behind, sending you sprawling to the ground. Your palms scraped against the rough surface of the platform, and a sharp pain shot through your ankle as someone stepped on it in their frantic rush.

You cried out, clutching your leg as tears blurred your vision. The crowd swirled around you, an unrelenting tide of fear and desperation.

Just as despair began to set in, a hand grabbed yours—strong and familiar.

“In-ho,” you gasped, relief flooding through you as he pulled you upright.

His face was etched with determination, his dark eyes scanning you quickly. “Can you stand?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

“I—I don’t think so,” you stammered, clutching your throbbing ankle. “I can’t run.”

He didn’t hesitate. Without another word, he scooped you into his arms, holding you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. “Hold on,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you through the chaos. The timer on the wall ticked down mercilessly, but In-ho moved with precision, weaving through the panicked players with ease.

“In-ho, what about the others?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“They’ll manage,” he replied curtly. His focus was entirely on you, his grip on you steady despite the chaos around him. “Right now, I’m getting you to safety.”

The sound of footsteps and shouting grew louder as players scrambled to find rooms, but In-ho didn’t falter. He pushed through the crowd, heading for an empty room just as the timer reached zero.

The door slammed shut behind you, sealing you off from the madness outside. The sound of gunshots echoed through the arena, each one sending a fresh wave of terror through you.

In-ho set you down gently on the floor, his hands lingering on your arms as he crouched in front of you. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You shook your head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I almost died,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“But you didn’t,” he said firmly. His hands cupped your face, his touch grounding you. “You’re safe now.”

The weight of his words brought a fresh wave of tears, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed.

“I can’t do this,” you choked out. “I can’t—”

“Hey,” In-ho interrupted, his voice calm but commanding. He gently pulled your hands away from your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Look at me. Breathe.”

“I—I can’t,” you stammered, your chest heaving.

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his chest. “Feel that? Match your breathing to mine.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Slowly, your breaths began to sync with his, the tightness in your chest easing bit by bit.

“There you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

You nodded weakly, your tears slowing as his presence calmed you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

In-ho’s expression softened, and for a moment, the hardness in his eyes gave way to something warmer. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said quietly. “I told you—I won’t let anything happen to you.”

For the first time since the games began, you felt a glimmer of hope. In his arms, amidst the terror of the arena, you felt something you hadn’t dared to feel in days: safe.

(A/N) First Squid game fanfic! While watching season 2 i totally fell in love with In-ho (let’s forget the fact that he’s the frontman) so of course i needed to write a short oneshot of him. Feel free to drop requests in my inbox!

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”

It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

You wish Kaji was here already.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”

Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.

The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

“Kaji!”

You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”

He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”

He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”

In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.

“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”

“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”

Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

“….She's probably taken.”

“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”

There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”

“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”

More laughter.

Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”

“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”

“Really?”

“Of course—”

“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.

Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”

They flinch at the tone.

“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”

I know— dressed like a whore.”

Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’

He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”

He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”

One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—The fuck did you do?”

“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?

“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”

He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”

“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”

He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”

Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.

“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”

“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”

His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”

“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.

You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”

It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.

“He made me angry.”

Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.

With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”

“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”

part 2

[ennabear]

loser! sev getting all whiny and pathetic when she eats you out, rutting her hips against the mattress, cumming in her pants, accidentally overstimulating you like crazy because she's just loves it so much.

accidentally overstimulating HERSELF from eating you out?????? GODDDDDDD

HEHEHEH i said i was gonna respond to these as small little thoughts but i wanna write a real blurb about this because. wow. so true and real it brought tears to my eyes. THANK U FOR THISSSS i wish i could keep it in my asks forever hehehe… 18+

your wife has had one of the worst weeks of her life. the undercity has just completely gone rogue ever since silco has passed, and every effort she’s made to have everyone band together against topside is just worthless. nobody wants to listen to her, too obsessed with their own personal drama to see the bigger picture.

to make matters worse, she’s had to keep jinx under control too. when sevika imagined silco’s death, she didn’t imagine him leaving jinx in the will. and as if the sudden addition of jinx into her life wasn’t enough to stir the pot, jinx has found her own stray now too.

she’s exhausted. sick of sleepless nights spent erasing and rewriting silco’s mistakes, the bitter frost lingering in the streets leaving everyone in a tense and irritable mood. of fucking course she’s the one who has to deal with it, nobody else wants to take a stand or set things straight.

seeing her this way breaks your heart. she barely comes home anymore, usually to be found slumped over silco’s desk with a half empty bottle of whiskey at her side. her arm thrown across the table, an empty promise of getting it fixed and reattached hanging over her head. what she really needs is a new arm, but she refuses to take smeech up on his offer.

god damn it, your wife is so fucking stubborn. it turns you on immensely. because she’s loyal. she’s offered a brand new arm with all of the bells and whistles she could ever ask for, as long as she turns in jinx. easiest job ever, and she’s never liked the blue haired kid anyways. yet, she stands her ground. instead she’s been taking insults like “a bird without wings is just a funny lookin’ rat.” and trying to navigate her life with only one half of herself.

but tonight, she’s gonna make her absence up to you. she wanders home through the dark streets and alleys of zaun, straight to your shared doorstep. one could barely call it a house, as there weren’t really any dwellings that have survived this long in the undercity without being overtaken by moss and vines or crumbled to pieces— but it certainly was a home. especially when she gets to walk in and see you looking cozy and domestic.

you stare up at her when she saunters through the door, a crease between her brows and wet, red eyes painting her face as usual. she sighs, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. in an instant, she’s in your arms again. just the way you like it. without a word, you massage her temples as she nuzzles her face deeper into your hold. your touch is magic, she can feel the month long migraine she’s had suddenly disintegrating.

before she can stop it, before she even realizes what’s happening, hot streams of tears leak out of her eyes and roll down her cheeks. you coo at her and swipe them all away, kissing the top of her head repeatedly as a reminder of your love. yeah, it’s been a day or two since you’ve seen her, and sure, it’s been even longer since you’ve been on a date or had any sort of alone time, but you know that it isn’t personal. she’s trying her best, even if that means stumbling over her words and tripping over her feet.

“bad day, huh?” you ask, another kiss to the top of her head.

“bad week, bad month, bad year…” she responds with a sniffle. “i just wanna be close to you.”

she peeks up at you though her wet eyelashes, some of her black eye makeup smudged around her eyes. you giggle at her, she’s so fucking adorable. and so sweet, so hardworking, so gentle. before you can muster out an ‘i love you’, she bolts forward and catches your lips in a sweet kiss, pinning you to the couch.

“sev, god, you’re so needy.” you pant when she finally releases your lips to catch her breath.

“i’ve missed you, shit. wanna taste you so bad.”

with that, she shoves your pants down, already eagerly sucking bruises into your neck. you groan, you’ve forgotten how good your wife’s touch feels. a big, warm hand wraps around your own, and although they’re rough and cracked, you’ve never felt anything softer. tears threaten to spill out of your own eyes with the amount of love and adrenaline pumping through your veins, but sevika grounds you by shuffling on top of you.

you think she’s about to sit her cunt on top of yours as she strips herself of her pants, but you’re mistaken, and you realize this when she whimpers out a little “hand me that” and nods toward one of the pillows behind you.

confused and turned on as you are, you do as she asks and hand her a throw pillow which instantly gets shoved between her thighs. she wastes no time in diving forward to lick up all of your arousal, her eyes growing starry as a little string of white connects itself from your clit to the tip of her nose. you almost faint. fuck, you’ve missed her face, even more what it can do to you. so you buck your hips up and slowly grind yourself against her face, sevika matching your pace with her own hips.

in an instant, she’s lost in the pleasure— more specifically the taste of you and the slow grind of her cunt against the pillow. moans vibrate through your folds as she buries her face between your spread legs, and you whimper, already embarrassingly close to the finish line.

surprisingly, sevika cums first, the pillow cradling her wet cunt as she humps against it in time with her licks and sucks. that doesn’t stop her, and she doesn’t even stop after you cum and start yanking her head away out of intense pleasure. she can’t stop, though, not now. she’s in too deep. literally. her tongue is buried inside of you and her nose runs over your clit with every thrust, her mind absolutely racing with emotional thoughts and horny feelings.

“sevika, please!” you grunt, her grip on your hips is relentless. “babe, i already came, that’s enough.” but judging by the way she completely ignores you, you wonder if she even heard you at all.

she whines when you tug on her hair or push her shoulders away with the heels of you feet, her face completely melted to your cunt. she never stops fucking her pillow, and now her clit is red and rubbed raw by the cloth. she doesn’t know how many orgasms she’s had, it could range between three and twenty. she lost count when she came for the umpteenth time after you pulled her hair and moaned her name at the same time.

tears spill from her eyes again, but this time they’re happy tears. god, she’s missed you, and she doesn’t ever wanna stop. you take her face in your hands when you notice the sobs and sniffles she’s letting out, along with more whimpers and groans. this time, she relents, slowing her own hips first and then licking up the rest of the cum and spit between your thighs.

“sev, baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, concerned that maybe you hurt her or she hurt herself.

“i just missed you…” she starts. “and i love you so much.” she crawls up your body and lays her head on your stomach while you both catch your breath, the pillow being discarded on the floor. your fingers work wonders on her scalp, and she almost falls asleep after half an hour of matching her breathing to yours.

“don’t fall asleep yet.” you warn, although you’ve been yawning more than she has. “you still need to carry me to bed and tuck me in like a gentleman.”

“you might have to be the gentleman tonight,” she giggles. “i don’t think my legs are sturdy enough to carry us to the bedroom right now.”