#and they don't even have a tag i can look through :(

[rafayelxsylusho]

This was created because I'm ovulating and I was inspired by this art (link here).

What happens when you catch each LI humping a pillow? 🥵🥵

FOLLOW EKAY!!! art is amazing!!!

Full pictures are on Bluesky and X.

"What the hell?" That definitely sounded like Caleb, but the way he called your name was different. Not playful or teasing like usual. It was raw, desperate, almost pained. For a moment you think Caleb must have heard you come home and is calling for you from the kitchen. But the sound comes again, louder and it's clear something is very wrong.

You freeze on the stairs, hand tightening on the railing as you realize the noise is coming from upstairs.

Against your better judgment, you find yourself moving up the stairs, footsteps silent on the carpeted steps. You creep closer to his bedroom door, which is slightly open. You hear him grunt, followed by the creaking of bedsprings. Your stomach twists into knots as you push the door open a little wider, peeking inside.

The sight that greets you steals the breath from your lungs. 

Caleb, is on his knees on the bed, holding with both hands a pillow that is clutched tightly between his legs. His abs flex and tense with each thrust of his hips, the defined lines of his six pack glistening with a sheen of sweat.

A deep moan tears from his throat, your name falling from his lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. "Y/N..." he grunts with a sharp buck of his hips. The metal dog tag you gave him, the one he never takes off, swings and clanks against his chest with every movement.

His face is flushed a deep red, eyes open in concentration as he loses himself in his own twisted fantasy. His dark brown hair falls messily over his forehead, a few damp strands clinging to his skin. He looks lost in his own world, chasing some dark desire that you can only imagine involves you.

You stand there frozen, feeling a confusing mix of shock and embarrassment. You know you should look away, give him privacy, but you can't seem to tear your eyes from the sight of him so consumed by lust.

His breathing comes in ragged pants, chest heaving as he continues to grind against the pillow.

You don't know whether to be flattered, terrified, or turned on. Probably all three. But most of all, you are stunned. You had no idea Caleb was this intense.

The sound of the pillow rubbing against his heavy balls up to the tip of his cock, already slick with precum, makes you squeeze your thighs together.

"Fuck, pipsqueak..." Caleb grunts, "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight and perfect around my cock." He gives a sharp thrust and the pillowcase darkens with his precum.

His filthy whispers fill the room, painting a vivid picture of the act he wishes he was performing on you. "Gonna fill this sweet little pussy up. Pump you so full of my cum, you'll be dripping with it for days."

Your cheeks flush hotly at his words. You've never heard Caleb speak like this before. It's raw, it's real, and it's terrifyingly intense. A dark shiver runs through you as you imagine him saying those things to you, doing those things to you.

Caleb seems to be chasing something, a release he desperately needs. His grip on the pillow tightens, knuckles turning white as he holds on for dear life. The bed frame creaks beneath him, "Fuck, I need it... I need you... Gonna cum... Gonna fucking cum..." he snarls, hips jerking erratically now. The pillow case is thoroughly soaked, the spreading dark patch testifying to his desperation.

A gasp escapes you as you take an unconscious step forward, the door swings open a bit more. In that same moment, Caleb's head snaps up, eyes flying open wide as he realizes he's no longer alone.

But it's too late. Far too late to stop the inevitable. With a deep moan that echoes off the walls, Caleb's back arches as he finds his release. His hips jerk forward one last time, and thick ropes of pearly white cum erupt from his cock, splattering obscenely across his stomach and chest.

Some of it even reaches his flushed cheek, a single strand dangling from his jawline as he pants harshly, struggling to catch his breath. His pelvis is glazed with his cum, the patch of hair there dripping with his seed.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Caleb stares at you, eyes blazing with emotions, shock, embarrassment, but above all, hunger. It's like he's seeing straight into your soul and you are frozen in place, your own breath coming in shallow gasps. You don't know what to say, what to do. You are not sure if you should run, scream, or...god help you...take a step closer and let him pull you into his arms.

So you do the only thing you can think of.  You step out of the room, you let the door swing shut behind you with a soft click. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you stand there, back pressed against the closed door. You can still picture the look on his face, the raw need that contorted his features. It will be burned into you mind forever.

How can we go back to the way things were after this? 

Your heart skips a beat as you hear an unfamiliar noise coming from Sylus' room. It sounds like...grunting? You pause midstep, standing still just outside his bedroom door.

There's a strange, rhythmic creaking of bedsprings that makes your brows furrow. What on earth is Sylus doing in there at this hour, especially if he's not a morning person? You've never heard him make noises like that before. Perhaps surprising him like this wasn't the best idea after all.

You open the door slowly, maybe he is having a nightmare you tell yourself. Your heart lurches into your throat, eyes widening in shock. He is not having a nightmare, but something far more...intense. He's kneeling on the bed, gripping a pillow tightly between his thighs. The way his arm clutches it, fingers digging into the fabric, suggests a desperate, almost feral need.

His other hand is fisted in the sheets behind him, knuckles white from the force of his grip. The bed creaks and sways with his movements, the rocking of his hips unmistakable even in the dim light. He's panting, low grunts and growls rumbling from his chest as he grinds himself against the pillow, chasing his pleasure.

Shock roots you to the spot, hand still on the door handle. He's looking down at his throbbing cock, watching it, each slow thrust. His hips roll slowly at first, the movement controlled as he builds towards his peak.

"Fuck, kitten," he grunts, "You take me so deep, all the way into that tight little throat. That's it, open wider, take every fucking inch..."

You feel heat between your legs at the sound of his filthy words, arousal dampening the fabric of your panties

Suddenly, his thrusts turn quick and desperate, the arm gripping the bed slipping a bit. The sound of the pillowcase rubbing against him and the slap of his cock against his stomach fill the room. Beads of precum smear across his skin with each thrust.

You can't look away, even as your cheeks burn and your core throbs with need. You know Sylus is seconds away from coming, his thrusts becoming desperate.

He is fully lost now head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip hard, stifling the moan that threatens to spill out. You are not even touching yourself but you can feel your body responding to his fantasy as if it were real. As if you were the one on your knees, choking on his thick cock, gagging for his seed.

You gasp softly as he orgasms, his long moan of "Take it all, kitten... suck me dry" echoing through the room. The sight of his hot cum splattering across his stomach and staining the sheets is shockingly erotic.

There's so much of it. Thick, creamy ropes of cum paint his skin and the pillow beneath him. You can't help but picture how it would feel, the weight of it heavy and warm on your tongue, sliding down your throat. The thought makes your mouth water.

His cock pulses and throbs as he rides out his orgasm, spurting the last few weak drops of cum onto the pillow. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, arm gripping the sheets trembling slightly.

You are about to close his door when you hear his voice again. You freeze, hand still on the door handle, as he speaks.

"You, watching me, made this much more pleasurable, kitten. Don't walk away now."

You should have known you couldnt slip away unnoticed.

Fuck

Three weeks, that's how long you were on a mission and apart from him.

When you open the front door and walk in you notice the house is quiet, too quiet, as you set your bag down by the shoe rack, kicking off your boots.

Your heart flutters with anticipation as you tiptoe down the hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. The early morning sunlight peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the house as you approach the slightly open bedroom door.

"Y/n...fuuuuuuuck"

He couldn't be...was he?

He was.

Your mouth falls open in shock when you see Zayne. He's on his hands and knees on the bed, a pillow placed between his legs. One hand grips the pillow tightly, holding it firmly against his body as he slowly thrusts his hips, his hard cock trapped between the pillow and his pelvis.

His other hand clutches the bedsheets in front of him like a lifeline. His black hair falls forward, hiding his eyes as his broad shoulders rise and fall with each breath. The room is filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of the bed creaking with his movements and the stifled groans that escape his lips. The sight of his muscular back moving with each thrust sends a shiver down your spine and ignites a fire low in your belly.

You realize that he's not just turned on, but he's already found his release once, the pillowcase, now soaked with his essence, testifies to it. He's using the damp fabric, slick with his cum, to bring himself to the brink again.

His cock, the tip an angry, almost painful shade of red, pulses and throbs with need. His balls draw up tight, and his toes curl.

His face, usually so stoic and controlled, is flushed and you can tell he's on the very edge of another orgasm. Your heart pounds wildly as you watch him chase his release, his hips moving more urgently now. His hand claws at the sheets, bunching the fabric in his fist.

Your own body responds with a deep throb of desire. You can feel the dampness pooling between your thighs, the way your nipples strain against the fabric of your bra. But you remain still, a silent witness to the intimate moment, not wanting to startle him.

He yanks the pillow closer, using it for more friction, more stimulation. "Fuck..." he growls "Always so fucking tight... such a dirty girl...making me cum twice"

Contrary to before, he doesn't hold back his noises this time. A guttural moan, tears from his throat as he finds his release. It's followed by a litany of curses, each one punctuated by the jerking of his hips and the pulsing of his cock.

"Fuck... shit... damn..." he growls, "Take it... take my fucking cum..." You are sure the sight of him losing control, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, will be seared into your mind forever.

You step into the room and walk towards Zayne, eyes drinking in the sight of him, back glistening with sweat, his hips still twitching with the aftershocks of his climax. As you approach him, he slowly turns his head, his eyes blinking in surprise and confusion as they meet yours. He's still gripping the sheets and pillow tightly.

Without hesitation, you reach out and swipe a finger along the tip of his softening cock, collecting the pearly drops of his release that cling to the sensitive skin. Then you bring your finger to your mouth, keeping eye contact with him as you slowly lick it clean, savoring the salty, slightly bitter taste of him.

"Surprise, honey," you say softly, a playful smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. "I'm home early."

You sigh softly as you remember the last time you saw Rafayel, just a few days ago. He had been absorbed in his painting, hunched over a large canvas propped up in his art studio.

You open his front door and walk inside, a basket of freshly prepared food tucked under your arm. You walk to his studio but he is not in there.

An unusual sound drifting down from upstairs makes you stop in place. It's a soft, strangled noise.

Was that a whimper?

Your brows furrow with concern and you set the basket of food down quietly on the staircase, not wanting to disturb whatever may be happening, but unwilling to ignore what sounds like distress.

Climbing the stairs quietly you approach Rafayel's bedroom door. The whimpering grows louder, now unmistakable. Your hand hovers over the doorknob and you take a deep breath, slowly turning the doorknob. As you push the door open just a bit, you peek through to see Rafayel.

It's not his face flushed a deep shade of red that extends to the tips of his ears or the sweat dripping down his chest that makes your heart skip a beat. It's the way he's positioned on the bed, with a pillow clutched tightly between his legs, his hips rocking and rutting against it with desperate, needy thrusts. His left hand gripping the pillow tightly, keeping it firmly in place as his other hand braces against the mattress, holding himself up.

Desperate whimpers and whines spill from his lips as he grinds his hips against the pillow, his eyes screwed shut in a mix of pleasure and what looks like anguish.

Rafayel pulls the pillow closer, the tip of his cock becomes visible with each thrust. It disappears and reappears, glistening with precum as he thrust against the fabric. It makes your face flush hotly, your eyes going wide as you instinctively press a hand to your mouth to stifle any sound.

"Please... please cutie... let me cum..." Rafayel whimpers "Please, I need it so bad... I can't... I can't hold back anymore..." You've only witnessed him in this state once before, and the memory of that intimate moment together flashes through your mind. The raw need in his eyes as he begged you to let him find release within your warmth and tightness.

A single tear of frustration trickles down his flushed cheek, glistening in the soft light. His abs clench and flex with each thrust against the pillow. "Fuck... I can ... smell her..." he chokes out, his voice breaking with need. The pillow is now soaked with his sweat and the weeping tip of his cock.

It's clear that Rafayel is thinking of you, craving you, desperate to fill you and but he is also having trouble reaching his peak, so you decide to help.

You walk softly towards the bed, as you approach, his thrusts against the pillow falter, then stop altogether. He looks up at you with wide, teary eyes, his cheeks burning an even deeper shade of red.

That's when you see the raw vulnerability and need in his expression, the way he's stripped bare of all his usual composure and confidence. It's both humbling and deeply intimate, a rare glimpse into the true depth of his desire for you.

Sitting down gently beside him on the bed, you lean in close, your lips nearly brushing the shell of his ear and in a soft, encouraging whisper, you breathe out the words:

"Keep going, Raf. Cum for me."

Those three simple words, spoken with such gentle encouragement, seem to be the final push Rafayel needs. His eyes flutter closed, a look of pure bliss spreading across his face.

With a hoarse cry of your name, Rafayel's body goes rigid, his hips jerking forward as he finds his much needed release. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spurt from his fat cock, coating the pillow and his hand as he grips it with white knuckles.

"Such a good boy, Raf," you coo softly, reaching out to gently brush a damp lock of hair from his forehead. Your touch makes him shiver, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

You're glad you brought food, because you know you will both need it after the long day and night ahead of you.

You slip the key he gave you into the lock and turn it slowly, easing the door open as quietly as possible. The apartment is dimly lit and you can hear the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic, but otherwise, it's quiet.

Closing the door behind you, you pad softly into the kitchen. You have a plan, start on breakfast, then wake him so he can eat something. He's probably exhausted from his mission, and you want to make sure he has a nice, relaxing morning. Maybe he forgot you were supposed to have breakfast together this morning.

You open the fridge and start gathering ingredients, eggs, bacon, some fresh fruit. You had found a recipe online that looked delicious and you thought he might enjoy it.

The sound of something slamming softly against the wall grabs your attention. Concerned you walk towards his bedroom, leaving the ingredients on the kitchen counter, the sound growing louder with each step. Gently you turn the doorknob and ease the door to his bedroom open, just a little bit at first. But once you open it a little bit more the sight that greets you makes your breath catch in your throat.

Xavier is sprawled naked on his back, body bathed in the soft glow of the lights filtering through the window. His legs are bent, knees up and feet flat on the bed. Nestled between his thighs is a pillow, and you can see his hips rocking slowly, rubbing the pillow against his lenght.

Your gaze is drawn to his cock, standing proud against his stomach. You can see pearly drops of precum dripping from the swollen, flushed tip, trailing down and pooling in his abdomen.

Unconsciously you lick your lips, imagining the taste of his skin, the feel of his body against yours.

Xavier grips the pillow tightly with both hands. His long fingers dig into the fabric as he pulls on both sides, tightening the pillow around his throbbing cock. The soft material squeezes his shaft, providing a delicious friction that has him gritting his teeth.

You can see the desperation in the way he's chasing his pleasure, the hunger that drives him to seek more, always more. His eyes are clenched shut, lost in a world of sensation and desire. A part of you wonders what he's thinking about, what fantasies are playing out behind his closed lids to have him so worked up. 

You don't have to wait long for an answer.

"Fuck, bunny..." he grunts, voice breathless. "You feel so fucking good...ngh...take it all, just like that. Squeeze me... You ride me sooooo good... fuck, you're so tight...so perfect..."

There's no doubt about it now, in his mind, he's with you, lost in a fantasy starring none other than yourself.

His words dissolve into a moan, the sound vibrating through his chest. The signs of his impending orgasm are unmistakable. His thrusts become erratic, the grip on the pillow tightening. His breathing grows ragged and shallow, each inhale ending on a sharp grunt or a moan. The muscles in his thighs and stomach tense and flex.

"Fuck,... I'm... I'm so close... Ah, shit..." Xavier pants. He throws his head back, hair splaying out around him like a halo. "Don't stop...! don't you dare fucking stop..."

And in his head you don't stop because the next second he comes undone. His back arches sharply, pressing himself against the pillow, as thick ropes of hot, sticky cum spurt from his throbbing cock.

The headboard slams against the wall with the force of his thrusts, the rhythmic banging keeping time with the throbbing pulses of his release.

His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath. The pillow is a mess, soaked through with his release. He collapses back onto the bed, a blissful smile playing at the corners of his lips.

For a moment, you're stunned speechless, hardly believing this really happened. Did he really just...?

Before you can overthink it, Xavier's head turns towards the door, his piercing blue gaze locking onto you. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face, the smirk of a predator who's just spotted his prey.

"Come here, y/n," he purrs, "I noticed you were there before I came, but I wanted to keep the show going for you."

Of course he noticed you standing there, his hunter's instincts always on high alert. It's no wonder he's the best deepspace hunter. Now all you had to do was walk to him.

Easy...right?

[cheapshrimpysheep]

A Rainy Walk

SUMMARY: He invites you to go with him on one of his club's outings, but the weather is revealed, belatedly, tto be inappropriate and perhaps even dangerous for what should be a pleasant moment together.

CHARACTERS: Mountain Lover Club (Jade Leech) / Gargoyle Studies Club (Malleus Draconia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss

WORD COUNT: An average of 2.370 words per character.

COMMENTS: In Jade's part, as a person who doesn't like hiking, I wanted to create a way for both those who like it and those who don't to be able to insert themselves. So I made the reader twist an ankle.

I hope you enjoy it. 🌧️⛈️

OTHER CLUBS:

But… We Lost… - Basketball Club (Ace / Floyd / Jamil)

Romantic Experiment - Science Club (Trey / Rook)

For a Quarter of a Second - Track and Field Club (Deuce / Jack)

Unlucky Overtime - Spelldrive Club (Leona / Ruggie / Epel)

P.S.: I don't know what's going on with me to make me start writing so much.

.

You had gone to the Mostro Lounge, as you do from time to time with Grim, Ace and Deuce for a snack. When Jade comes to your table to take your orders, he informs you that he has prepared a new dessert and would love for you all to try it and tell him what you think.

“Myaah yeah, I'll take any-” Grim starts to say excitedly, until he remembers who he's talking to. “Wait... what do you want?”

“Me? I would just like to know if this new dessert I made has a pleasant taste. And who better than some of our best customers to tell me?” He smiles and proceeds to describe something you would absolutely love to eat.

“Funny, that really sounds like (Y/N)'s favorite desserts. ” Deuce says.

“Truly? What a coincidence.”

“Which I'm sure it isn't.” Ace adds. “Come on Jade, tell us what you really want in return. We might even consider it.”

“Very well.” he smiled amusedly. “It would cost you 17 thaumark each.” Everyone is shocked by that price for a small dessert. “However, I have another proposal.” you see his sharp teeth through the smile for a second. “I believe you know that I am a member of the Mountain Lover Club. This weekend, I'm planning on waking up before dawn to head to the mountains so I can see a flower that only blooms in the early hours of the day.” He looks at you. “And they are such charming flowers that I would love to share this experience with... someone. Perhaps (Y/N)?” If you accept, I can give you all a discount and the dessert will only be 8 thaumark.”

“Did you really need to do all this ruse?” Grim asks annoyed. “Why don't you just ask (Y/N) out?”

“Because that wouldn't be as thrilling, would it? Fu fu.”

“My wallet doesn't need any thrilling, thank you very much.” Ace comments. “And 8 still seems a little pricey for this type of dessert.” he tries to haggle.

“Five each if you let (Y/N) come alone with me.”

They looked at each other as if they were between a rock and a hard place.

“Deal!” You say. After all, you also have a crush on Jade.

Jade laughs seeing your friends' worried faces.

“There's nothing to worry about, gentlemen. I will make sure (Y/N) gets home safe and on time. We can even bring you souvenirs if you’d like. I would be happy to share the wonders of the mountains with all of you as well.”

~

He could have promised to keep you safe and sound on the mountain, but unfortunately, he couldn't do anything, nor was he prepared for something to happen to you before the hike. In one of your Physical Education classes you ended up twisting your ankle and it wouldn't heal in time for the day of the hike. You were in the infirmary when Jade came to check on you.

“(Y/N), I heard about your accident in Professor Vargas' class.” Jade tells you with pity, or at least it seems like it. It's hard to know when it's genuine concern. “But may I confirm with you that it was indeed just an accident?”

You confirm that it was just your foot that slipped, a little confused by that question.

“Very well. Don't worry, I believe in you. But you know that if there is a classmate who is less... pleasant with you, you can tell me.” He says with a sweet smile before forming his toothy little grin. “I can have a reasonable little conversation with them.”

You assure him that it wasn't any other student's fault that made you end up like this. At worst, it was Grim's mischief to blame. Jade chuckles.

“But it was quite unfortunate that it happened right before our hike in the mountain. However, I thought of a way for you to be able to accompany me, if you still wish to do so.”

~

On the day of the hike, or rather, that night before dawn, Jade appeared at Ramshackle Dorm door and sent you a message asking if you were ready. He asked for permission to enter the dormitory and go to your room and when he arrived he had with him a flying broom with a special cushioned seat for you. Since it's still going to be a bit of a long walk, he thought that maybe the broom like you normally use in class might be a bit uncomfortable. You could accompany him on the hike sitting on the broom and that way you wouldn't have to walk and strain your feet.

“Would you like me to help you get on the broom?” He asks politely.

If you accept his help, he will gently hold you by the waist and place you in the seat.

“The weather forecasts have been a bit... surprising.” Jade says with an enigmatic smile. “The predictions have proven to be quite inaccurate recently. There is a chance of some rain so I advise you to take an umbrella. But you should also put on sunscreen and wear a hat. Hats are essential when sketching outdoors. I got horribly sunburned once when I grew too absorbed in my work.”

Jade was dressed for the occasion from head to toe. He even wore a long coat full of pockets and was carrying a camping backpack. But in your case, he didn't ask you to take much more than necessary.

As you were walking at night, Jade took a lantern with him and placed another one on the end of your broom. He was using his magic to lead the broom like someone leading a horse by the reins. He took you through the Dark Mirror to the Dwarfs' Mountain. It was a full moon night and it was beautiful. It shouldn't be long before the moon disappeared and gave way to dawn and at that height it was beautiful to see.

“They advise anyone who hike at night to do so on a full moon night, as this is the phase in which the moon provides the best natural lighting. However, if I'm correct it shouldn't be long until dawn. Maybe 30 to 45 minutes. The flower location is also not far from here, we will get there in time even if we take it slow and appreciate what surrounds us. Feel free to ask me anything if you see something that catches your interest.” He smiles and begins the hike.

If you do as he suggests and ask him about something you see or simply what his hikes are usually like, he'll be very happy to tell you anything you want to know. And if you ask him about some type of mushroom, he'll be even happier.

“I appreciate your willingness to listen to me talk about the mountains. I started to tell Floyd my thoughts about hiking in the mountains, and he nodded off not even a minute in.” Jade was telling you, “What a shame we cannot enjoy this hobby together.” when he felt something in his nose. “Hm?”

You also feel something on your nose, then on your forehead, on your cheek...

“Looks like this is your cue to open your umbrella.” He tells you. “So that is why it seemed like it was taking so long for dawn to come, the clouds are covering the sun. Fortunately... we arrived.”

You open your umbrella, it's not raining much yet. You see a small field between the trees and full of closed flowers. When you look at Jade, you see that something seems to be bothering him and you ask what he was thinking.

“Oh, you noticed.” he smiles, as if he had been caught. “I was thinking about these flowers. It says they bloom in the early hours of the day, but I don't remember if they would do so regardless of whether they received direct sunlight or not. It would be a shame not to be able to achieve our main objective.”

And then the sky gets darker and the rain starts to get heavier.

“Oh no, it doesn't look like it's going to be a light rain. You should take shelter. The mine is nearby, let's go there.”

“I should take shelter? What about you?”

“Well, it's not like water bothers me, remember? Fu fu~” He laughs amusedly.

Jade takes you by the broom to the inside of the mine, not far from the entrance, just enough to take shelter and still see the outside. As soon as you sat down on the ground the rain seemed to turn into a storm.

“Oh dear! I've never seen the weather forecast fail so badly.” he says with that toothy smile, probably enjoying the surprise a little too much. But then he looks at you. “I'm so sorry I brought you out into the middle of a storm this early in the morning. I really wanted to see those flowers with you. It seems I was reckless and let myself be carried away by impulse.”

He sees you shaking a little.

“Oh! I hadn't even realized how much the temperature had dropped. Here.” He takes off his long coat and offers it to you to put on. “I appreciate your concern, but there's no need to worry about me. I have excellent resistance to cold, remember? Speaking of your well-being, how is your ankle?”

You weren't wearing the shoe on your injured foot, but a thick sock over the bandages. That cold was good for your ankle, but terrible for the rest of your foot, especially your toes.

“Yes, as I imagined. Let me take care of you until we are able to go back to school. It's the least I can do after putting you through all this while you're still recovering.”

He looked at you with concern, but you've seen that "concerned" expression a few times before.

“You're looking at me so suspiciously. That is quite hurtful. You should know how careful I am, especially in a situation like this.”

But he still had that smile that, whoever knows him, knows there is something behind it. And so you ask him if you're going to be indebted to him after that. If there's one thing you learned from Octavinelle, it's not to accept any favor from them without knowing the terms and conditions of it.

“Fu fu fu...” his charismatic smile becomes his true smile, the one with his teeth showing. “I'm glad to see that you learned such a valuable lesson from us, (Y/N). But there is another one that we may need to teach you better. And that is the ability to realize when you have the advantage. Remember how you agreed to accompany me in exchange for a discount on the desserts? We were even then. In the case of the broom I provided, in exchange, you would offer me your company even though you were injured. In that case, I might be at a disadvantage. Since I was risking your injury getting worse by bringing you away from the protection of your home. And now, that risk has become real. Which means I'm the one who owes you this time. Which means I am the one who is in debt to you at the moment. Due to my poor decision of a date with a suitable weather for the hike. Any treatment I provide you will only and slimply make me pay my debt. Do you feel safer accepting my offer under these conditions?”

Everything he said made sense. And while the Octavinelle trio have a tendency to create shady agreements and contracts, they don't necessarily lie. They can do it by omission, but this is not the case, so you accept.

You are sitting on the mine floor with the same pillow that supported you on the broom. Jade sits in front of you and asks you to stretch your legs so he can put them over his. He takes off the sock that covered your foot and uses magic to warm your foot with the exception of the ankle that needs the cold. And while this heating magic is taking effect he massages your ankle and feet, in a way that is appropriate and specific for a sprained ankle. He was really good at it.

“There's another thing we've been even from the beginning.” he says with a smirk and without looking at you yet. “Grim was right, I wanted to go out with you. But...” He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, barely moving his head. “You wanted to go out with me as well... didn't you, (Y/N)?”

He sees you smiling, perhaps shyly, and takes it as a green light. He takes your feet from his lap and places them gently on the ground, then stretches out towards you, supporting himself on his hands, like a cat slowly approaching.

“I really feel horrible for putting you in this situation.” But he doesn't say this with regret, but rather in a purposefully seductive way. “I wonder what I can do to redeem myself? Especially if it lasts as long as it looks like it will. Making you wait here uncomfortably for so long will create a huge debt for me towards you.” He brings his face even closer to yours, with a smile as inviting as his heterochromatic eyes. “Tell me... what can I do to ease this situation?”

He won't kiss you. He'll wait patiently for you to do it first. Or better yet... for you to order him to kiss you.

“As you wish~” He says and kisses you passionately.

Rainy weather tends to get a person down, and that's what was happening to you too. Even though you may enjoy listening to the rain outside, it's never good when you have to go back to your dorm. Especially with Grim complaining.

Grim managed to get to Ramshackle Dorm dry because he made you to carry him. You, on the other hand, had your legs and feet stuck in water. It was when you were going up the stairs to change your clothes in your room that you saw some little and familiar green lights around you.

You turn around and go to the door. When you open it you see Malleus with a large umbrella and dressed in black waterproof clothes and a raincoat.

“Good afternoon, Child of Man.” Malleus greets you with a polite smile. “I couldn't help but notice you less cheerful and smiling than usual these past few days. I think it even coincided with the arrival of the rainy weather. Would the two be connected?”

You tell him yes. Maybe you don't like rain at all, or maybe you only like rain when you can sit inside and enjoy the sound. Either way, you don't like being out in the rain and risking catching a cold.

“Oh yes, that is true... a simple rain can make a human sick. But I believe that having wet clothes such as yours can also contribute to a possible sickness, am I correct?” he asks and you confirm. “Allow me to help you dry faster.”

“You're not going to use fire magic on me, are you?” you ask slightly worried.

“Yes, I was about to. Why so worried about it?”

“Because you can burn me with it.”

“Burn? Oh, no, I wasn't going to use direct fire. I know that fire hurts other living beings. I was going to use a variation of fire magic that just changes the temperature around certain objects. I have used it several times to dry my own clothes. You seem more relieved. Will you allow me to use it then?”

You accept and he uses his magic to dry your pants, shoes and socks in a second.

“You know, I personally quite appreciate this weather. It's perfect for the Gargoyle Studies Club because we can watch them perform their main function. Or at least I can see them. I would love to share this sight with you. Perhaps it could help you feel a little better on days like these. What do you say? Do you accept my invitation?” He smiles excitedly, which is also cute.

You say you'd love to, but you don't have rain gear like his.

“There is no need for this to be a deterrent. I'll be more than happy to provide you with suitable clothing.” He uses his magic again and changes your uniform into the same set of rain gear he was wearing. Seeing you in those clothes makes him smile even more. “They seem to suit you well.”

“But how do I go with you?” You ask. “Don't you usually fly up to the gargoyles?”

“I do. I was thinking, if you're comfortable with it, that I could carry you in my arms. Like I saw you doing with Grim just now when you were coming back home. This umbrella is big enough for two people. But if you prefer, I can also give you another umbrella and we can ask Coach Vargas for one of the flying brooms.”

You admit that you don't mind about the first option and maybe even use the excuse that you don't have magic and Grim clearly doesn't want to go with you, so you wouldn't be able to use the broom by yourself.

“In that case, if you're ready, we can go back to the main building to admire the gargoyles.” He smiles and bends his arm, inviting you to intertwine yours with his.

You do so, he places the umbrella between the two of you and you walk back to the school building. He was talking about his club and gargoyles in general until you got close to a wall with no doors or windows nearby.

“One of my favorite gargoyles sits right above us.” Malleus tells you. “Do you see that trickle of water? It's coming from that same gargoyle. Are you ready for me to take you up there and show you?” He extends a hand to you.

You place your hand over his and he gently pulls you towards him. He then lets go of your hand to bend down slightly, put his arm around you and picks you up. Your reflex is to put your arms around his neck to hold on, which brings your faces closer together. He looks directly at you and chuckles seeing your embarrassed/shy face.

“Hold on tight. And do not worry about hurting me, you wouldn't be able to even if you tried. Fu fu.”

As soon as he rises into the air you grab him tightly, which makes him chuckle because he was barely half a meter off the ground yet. Then he rises even higher, but slower than he would on his own. He doesn't want to scare you.

When you get close to the gargoyle, he sits the two of you next to it, you between him and the gargoyle so you can see it better. And he will never let go of your waist to hold you. If you are afraid of heights, or if you just feel a little scared at that moment and hold on to him, he will chuckle and hold you even tighter, but never too tight so as not to hurt you.

“Worry not, (Y/N). I won't let go of you. You can enjoy the gargoyle as much as you wish. I'll be holding you the entire time.”

As you admire the gargoyle doing its work and see the rainwater coming out of its mouth, Malleus admires you.

“Do you wish to know why this is one of my favorite gargoyles on the school building?” He asks and of course you say yes. “In terms of appearance, there's nothing very different about this one from all the others. In fact, there is nothing worth calling special about this gargoyle carving technique. What delights me the most about this gargoyle is not what any of us can see, but what it can see every day.”

You look ahead, trying to figure out where the gargoyle was looking, but the school grounds were so big and the sea so vast that you couldn't be sure. Malleus chuckles, as if you weren't seeing something obvious.

“You are looking too far away. See which building is closest.”

You look closer, at the least impressive building on campus.

“Ramshackle Dorm?” You ask.

“Correct. This gargoyle must have seen the whole story of your dormitory. When it was built, who might have been there before you, how it became an abandoned building and the answers to any question we might wish to know about its mysterious past.”

You look at that gargoyle again with new eyes. All your questions could be answered. If it could talk, it would certainly be a very interesting conversation.

“This gargoyle also witnessed all my visits to the ruins.” Malleus continues. “I wonder what it thought of me, coming in just to admire the decay of that dormitory. But more than that, I wonder what it thought of you. Arriving with a mischievous little monster, a being without magic and completely unaware of the history of this world. And yet, able to breathe new life into rubble and call it home. It also witnessed our meeting. Could it have found it as amusing as I did? Fu fu~”

You look at your dorm, thinking now of everything that gargoyle could have seen.

“And now, it is watching over you.” He looks at you with a sweet smile. “I've told this gargoyle a lot about you, and now it's finally meeting you.”

If you look at the gargoyle again and even greet it, Malleus will laugh in amusement.

“I am certain it was as delighted to meet you as I was that night.”

You look at him and see him looking at you with great affection.

“Speaking of which, I'm curious.” Malleus continues. “Did you also enjoy meeting me that night? You were not frightened, at least.”

You tell him how you felt that night. Surprised, especially seeing such a tall guy with horns, but also intrigued to know who he was. You also found him extremely polite by the way he spoke.

“But I remember finding you very handsome right away.” You admit it.

Malleus is taken aback for a second, but then he laughs.

“Well, I am quite grateful for your honesty. Fu fu. Therefore, I should also admit that I found you... intrepidly charming.”

“Is that a good thing?” You ask.

“For some it may not be, but for me, and the inherently way you show it, it is something wonderful. I could even describe it as cute, especially when you are oblivious to social statutes.” He smiles honestly. And after a moment of reflection, his gaze becomes tender. “I am very fortunate to have you in my life, (Y/N).”

You show him your surprise, that sudden line was very unexpected.

“These moments with you always become some of my fondest memories. I hope to be as pleasant a companion to you as you are to me.”

You feel his arm around you instinctively pulling you closer to him. It's being a cute moment until there's a flash. You both look up and a few seconds later you hear the deafening rumble of thunder. It was so loud that it felt like it was very close to you and made you flinch as a reflex. Which also caused Malleus to let go of the umbrella and let it float above you to be able to hug you with both arms.

“I need to get you out of here. We're too high.”

He picks you up with both arms without hesitation while the umbrella floats above the two of you. And then another bolt of lightning! But this time it hit the tower right next to you, which scared you and made you cling to Malleus.

“A quick trip it shall be.” He holds your head, making you rest it on his shoulder, and in the blink of an eye, you no longer feel the rain and the scene changes abruptly.

You are now at the door of Ramshackle Dorm. He has teleported the two of you there. He leans in for you to put your feet back on the ground.

“I'm sorry our study trip has been so short.” He says with pity. “There were other gargoyles I would have liked to show you. But if you enjoyed our time today, I can show them to you on another outing sometime.” He smiles at you.

Right after you say you'd love it, you hear another clap of thunder. And so, you decide to invite Malleus to stay in Ramshackle with you for a while until the storm calms down.

“You are... Well, I would love to accept your invitation, but you do know that storms are not dangerous to me, correct?”

“I know.” you simply say, without withdrawing your invitation.

Malleus starts by laughing softly, until he lets out a good-natured laugh.

“You certainly are a very strange child of man.”

Malleus is too much of a gentleman to advance much further than with charming words. So, that will have to be your job.

“I am very fortunate to have you in my life too, Tsunotarou.” You tell him.

Malleus looks at you in surprise for a second until an adorable smile forms on his lips.

“You are one of the few who would say that.” He smirks. “And certainly the only human outside of Briar Valley who would say something like that at all.”

Come to think of it, with perhaps the exception of Lilia, the Diasomnia boys tend to be a bit oblivious to subtext. So you decide to take a risk and be direct.

“Tsunotarou... Malleus... do you like me?”

“Of course I like you. I thought I was expressing myself quite well in that regard.” He says a little confused.

“I mean... could you...” He probably doesn't know what the word ‘crush’ means, or he may take it literally. “...be in love with me? Or something like that?”

He is taken aback, and looks at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Me? The successor to the throne of Briar Valley and one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland? In love with... a powerless human from another world?” He seems to think about it for a moment until a smile forms again. “Fu fu... ha ha... HA HA HA HA HA!”

That laugh hurts your heart a little, until he continues speaking.

“I had never thought of that.” He says, looking to the side as he thinks. “But... if what I feel for you truly is what they call love... then now I understand why it is such a longed-for feeling. And if it is true then... ha ha HA HA... Oh, the obstacles we would have to face to be together. It does indeed sound exciting... Perhaps...” He looks you in the eyes. “Perhaps you are correct in interpreting my actions as such. However, I still cannot be sure it is love. But perhaps I can answer your question by admitting that, in fact, I nourish a much more intimate feeling towards you than friendship. This would explain why your company comforts and makes me happier than any other.”

He sees you smile as you listen to what he was saying.

“May I interpret that beautiful smile of yours as a possible mutual feeling on your part?”

You confirm and he leans in to take your hand and bring it to his lips to kiss the back of it. If you dare to take advantage of the fact that his face is at the same level as yours and you kiss his cheek, he will look at you in surprise before chuckling.

“Such audacity.” He says with a smug smile and still leaning over, his face close to yours. “Are you certain you wiah to find out how passionate I can be?”

He interprets your smile as confirmation and he kisses your lips delicately. Despite everything, he knows he can hurt you if he lets himself get too carried away. He's going to have to test some... limits.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[elfwreck]

OpSec is important. Know who your friends are, and be suspicious of people who don't fit the patterns.

This is part of why why counterculture movements often have different names than people's wallet names.

It's much, much harder for them to track down your friends if your friends are Treefrog, Dave-O, Moonshine, Hawk, Specks, and Yo-Yo. (Dave-O might be trackable - if his name is actually Dave - but there are a LOT of Daves. And if Dave-O's legal name is Tom or Linda, they've got nothing to start with.)

In addition to the plan of "it's ALWAYS shut-the-fuck-up Friday," if they've overheard casual conversations, it's harder for them to act against an obvious nickname. They CAN get a subpoena for "John or Jane Doe, alias Treefrog," but that doesn't tell them where Treefrog works or lives. They can't look up "alias Treefrog" in the DMV records.

You should know that you have the option of resisting or running, but sometimes you're going to look at those and say "the person relying on me (child, sibling, grandparent, etc.) would literally die if I got locked up or skipped town."

Resistance is better, not just for the community, but for yourself - because as noted, while they give you immunity for what you say, if someone else gives them the same info, they can come after you for that.

If the cops are saying "hey, these people are not your friends; they won't protect you; why are you protecting them" - you're not. You're protecting yourself, and your sense of integrity, and you are not supporting cops, because whether or not "those people" are your friends, cops are definitely your enemy.

If you have to comply -

Lying is a big crime, and if they're asking you, they're probably asking other people. You have no way of knowing how verifiable anything you say is. Trying to lie to protect your friends is a bad idea.

Not knowing is not a crime. STFU-Friday doesn't just apply to you; don't ask people for details you don't need. "How were people going to get to the protest?" "I think Treefrog's friend Mouse was going to give some of them a ride" is one answer, but even better is "I dunno; I was gonna take the bus. How other people were gonna get there wasn't my problem." (But: better is just plain "I don't know." Don't volunteer info, even to clarify what you don't know.)

Grand Juries are skilled at getting coherent info out of incoherent, scatterbrained people - obfuscation through random barrage of irrelevant details is not likely to work. (Or rather, someone on the grand jury is likely to be able to see through that. And deliberately obstructing things, if they notice you doing it, is also a crime.)

They're often not looking for crime details; they're trying to understand the shape of the community. Who's the spearhead people; who makes decisions and who just tags along; where do people hang out and meet new people who want to participate; who comes up with the cool ideas; who's always a little over-the-top and nobody listens to that guy. Who is the emotional support person for the group. Whose houses do they think are safe and friendly. ...Who's struggling in school; who's desperate for a job; who's going through a weird breakup and worried about the future. Who lives on gov't support - Social security, disability, food stamps, etc.

If you're answering anything, only answer the exact question given, and do not elaborate. If you don't know an exact answer ("What time did Dave-O arrive?") - say "I don't know" or "I don't remember," not "maybe 5 or 6, sometime before dark." (Remember: If you say he showed up at 5 or 6, and later records say he showed up at 4:30, you have lied. Lying is a crime.)

The whole process is designed to confuse and intimidate you. Learn as much as you can about it in advance to mitigate that.

[shoumachisblog]

The Night We Met

Sunmi x Male Reader (3.1K words)

Tags: Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Age Gap (you're the younger one), Stressed Sunmi, Stressed Reader, Just fucking read it.

You arrived at the bar that was a few kilometers away from your house after a long day at work. You were not planning to knock yourself out tonight but after going through all the work that you've done today, you thought you deserve some kind of reward. It is a small bar that barely had people in it but it became one of your favorite places because it was quiet and you can have your fill peacefully.

“You're back." The bartender greeted you. “I thought you've found a new place to kill your time." You let out a chuckle. “There's no way I can find a place as quiet as this place." You sat at the bar, asking for a large glass of beer. You heard the entrance creak, but you decided to ignore it. You knew some of the regulars who live nearby in this area and they would greet you with lazy, drunken smiles and small nods.

As the night goes by, you're already on your 7th glass which is surprising because you chugged down 6 large glasses of beer and are still sober, so unhealthy but this is your only way to cope.

It's been a month since you were hired at one of the most renowned companies in your country and if there is one thing you could say about your current job is that you'd rather die than keep working at that company. The pay is amazing but the working environment isn't as good as you thought. The environment is so toxic and harmful that if anyone has a mental condition, they might go crazy and immediately off'ed themselves. You barely made friends because everyone is busy competing with each other even though they are supposed to work as a team. You let out a big sigh while taking the last few gulps of your drink.

“I wish I could have sex right now."

“I wish I could have sex right now."

Your eyes widened as you turned your head to the side and saw a woman who sat not too far from you. She is probably on her 7th or 8th drink, judging from the amount of soju in the bottle that she has consumed.

“I'm sorry if you hear that out loud...." You said nervously, trying not to make any eye contact with the woman.

“It's....okay." the woman gave you a small yet warm smile. “I should be the one who says sorry because you heard something ridiculous."

At the sound of silence, the woman suddenly moves to sit beside you. “If you don't mind me asking, are you alone?" You were taken aback by the sudden approach. Now that you take a good look at the woman, she looks familiar. As if you've seen her somewhere on television or something.

“Yeah…” you replied, with a small smile and began pouring soju into your glass. “How about you? Are you alone or are you with someone right now?” You asked, taking a sip and your face scrunching up a bit. “Well, I’m alone too. I’m Sunmi, by the way.” Your brain somehow is working as slow as a tortoise tonight, after taking a long sip of your drink, you finally realized the real identity of the woman beside you.

You look towards her direction, “You are that idol, aren’t you?” Sunmi's smile grew as she finished her drink. “Bingo!” She said, placing the glass back down on the table. “What’s your name, handsome? You look quite young.” She poured the soju into her glass and yours. “Just call me handsome and I’m pretty young, noona.” you replied coolly, arching a brow as you regarded her. “So what do you do for a living? You look like someone who is involved in investment.” You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink that Sunmi just poured into your glass.

You began to tell Sunmi a bit about yourself and your career, to the point that you accidentally vented about the problem you had at your workplace. You couldn't remember the last time you’d left work at a decent hour or even had an entire weekend free, but one thing that you’re sure is that you weren’t having it easy. Your manager was constantly riding you, sending emails every hour and kept threatening you about the consequences if you were unable to meet the impossible deadline. You thought your mental health would get better after you got a job, with a decent pay and escaped from the education world but no, it gets worse. If you compared your life when you were still a university student and your current one, you could say it is the same but at least when you could have some fun when you were a university student. Now your mental health has deteriorated to the point where you couldn’t even enjoy a quiet evening at home without feeling worried and guilty for not getting tons of work done as soon as possible.

“That’s why you said you wish you could have sex right now, huh?” Sunmi nodded, understanding. “You really went through a lot for someone who just started working, kiddo!” She grabbed her glass and you did the same and both of you clink your glasses.

“What’s your story, noona?” You asked, placing the glass back onto the table after taking another sip of your drink.

Sunmi sighed heavily. “Nothing…. It's just that for the past few days, I feel so exhausted. I had to keep up with my schedules and barely had time to take a break. The pressure to be perfect all the time, to look good and able to perform well on stage is so tiring.” You listened intently as Sunmi unburdened herself. You always thought that being an idol or an artist is the freedom that everyone has been looking for if you have the talent to become one, but now that you’ve listened to Sunmi’s story, it is not as easy as you thought it would be.

As the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing, Sunmi found herself opening up even more to you. You’re someone who she just met 30 minutes ago, not to mention you’re much younger and have less experience in the working era than her but somehow she felt truly seen and understood by someone outside of her tightly controlled world. She didn’t have to act or worry about herself getting criticized. She can be herself with you.

As the hours ticked by, she gazed at your face illuminating by the pulsing bar lights and for some reason she felt a growing sense of attraction. “Hey, since we both want the same thing, would you like to spend the night with me?” You froze, turning your head slowly towards her direction. Your eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made Sunmi’s heart flutter. “You realized that I’m young enough to be your little brother right?” You replied, an awkward smile forms on your lips. Sunmi’s body is already humming in anticipation, leaning in closer so you could hear over loud and clear. “I know but in this case, age is just a number. Come on, this is your once in a lifetime chance to spend a night with an idol like me.” She said, her voice steady and sure. “or am I not good enough for you to have sex with?”

You shook your head, “No, you’re way too perfect.” It would be a fucking lie if you said that you don’t want to spend a night with her. Thanks to you two having a deep conversation about each other, you managed to take a good look at the older woman right in front of you. Sunmi is like a work of art, aging like a fine wine, a flawless canvas of soft curves and silky skin. Her long, smooth hair cascaded over her shoulder, tickling at the top of her ample breasts that beautifully shaped behind the fabric. Her pouty lips were slick with gloss inviting kisses. “Are you sure about doing it with someone younger than you?” You asked, and Sunmi smiled, trailing a finger along your jawline. “Well, everyone has their own first time. I’ll take all the chances to have my first and you are the first young person that I want to have sex with right now.”

You hesitated for a bit longer, searching for any sign of doubt or uncertainty on Sunmi’s face but all you saw was the desire shining in her eyes, the subtle parting of her lips as she waited for you. “If you’re really okay doing it with me, then it would be my honor to spend the night with you, noona.” A big smile appeared on Sunmi’s face as she leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss and when you finally broke apart, both of you were panting, cheeks flushed. Both of you finished your drinks and gathered your things, nearly vibrating at the tension as you two headed for the door.

••••••••§••••••••§••••••••

The moment the elevator doors ping, you extend an arm, holding them open for the older woman to enter. “Thank you…” Sunmi said, with a sweet smile before she pressed the button for the 14th floor. You step inside and the elevator doors begin to close.

Sunmi immediately sidled closer to you. You could feel her desire for you in waves as you stared at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly opening, the sweet scent of her perfume sticks to you and you have a feeling that the smell might completely stick onto your skin. You grabbed the older woman’s face and closed the remaining distance between you and Sunmi. The closer she gets to you, the more beautiful she looks into your eyes as lips crash in a desperate and needy kiss.

You moaned into her mouth, spit swapping between your and her mouth as the two of you got drunk on each other’s taste. Your erection is growing tight underneath the fabric of your pants as it is pressed against Sunmi’s thighs. One of your hands is placed on her waist and slowly moving down towards her ass while the other curls around the back of her neck. It is a miracle that the elevator doesn't stop until it reaches the 14th floor because you don’t know what to do if someone saw you making out with an artist that could cause a controversy around the country. The sound of the elevator ding signalling that you’ve arrived on the 14th allows Sunmi to peel herself off you and the moment the elevator doors open, she grabbed your hand and dragged you towards her house.

She entered the password of the door and dragged you inside the house, slamming the door shut before locking it. “Make yourself at home.” she says, unbuttoning your jacket and taking it off. “I have a feeling that we are going to get along so well, noona.” You replied, “Call me noona one more time and I will kick you out.” It was supposed to be a threat,but you only laughed as you wrapped your hands around her waist. Sunmi led you to her bedroom, face flaming with excitement and desire. You touched her body as if she was an exquisite piece of art, exploring her body through the clothes with kind hands. “Do you want me to take it off for you or do you want to do it yourself?” The breath in her lungs stills and Sunmi could feel her pulse increase, thrumming inside her neck. “Just do whatever you want to do with me, baby. I’m all yours tonight….”

Of course, it didn’t take a long time for both of you to be completely naked on her bed. The bed that you are going to stain with sweat and sex from both of you. “You look amazing, Sunmi.” You said, your eyes analyzing every part of her sexy body. “I could say the same thing about you.” Sunmi’s sinuses were aligned, pupils all but dilating as cock hunger fully engulfed her mind. “You’re….huge…” Sunmi awkwardly sunk to her knees before you. “So thick….” Sunmi gasped, huffing your scent with long, deep inhales that vacuumed into her brain and let them explode inside her brain.

Sunmi’s lips parted to accept you and like a gentleman you are, you guided yourself into her mouth, where sludge-like precum leaking from the head of your cock. She sucked on the sensitive cap until she was fully comfortable with the thickness, groaning low in her throat. Sunmi begins to bob her head as you start to lose yourself in the heat and suction of her mouth. You reached for the back of the older woman’s head to grasp her hair so you could held her firm and deepthroated her. Sunmi looked up to you, she could feel your fingertips dig into the back of her head.

The older woman can’t stop groaning around your cock. It’s been for who knows how long since the last time she took a cock inside her but one thing that she’s sure of is that she won’t stop until she’s fully satisfied. Sunmi gripped your thighs, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on her breathing. “Fuck, Sunmi….” You gasped and by now, you had wholly lost your composure as you brutalized the older woman’s throat, whose face was red and her eyes were wide and glazed. She kept a hand on your balls, massaging the bloated tanks but everyone has their own limits and Sunmi was already at her limit as she kept pushing against your legs but you also reached your peak. You pushed Sunmi’s head, shoving the entire length of your cock as thick, milky cum spewed from your sensitive head into Sunmi’s thirsty maw and throat. You sighed, showing a sense of relief, as your cock won’t stop shooting rope after rope of cum to the point that Sunmi starts to choke and cough due to the amount of your ejaculation.

After minutes of an eternity of bliss, your orgasm finally faded like nothing happened. Your breathing soon slowed, panting like a dying man while Sunmi had her eyes leaking tears, fighting to breathe cum stenched air. You slowly pulled your cock out of the older woman’s mouth and once it was completely out with a pop, you laid your cock on top of her face and rubbed it all around, smearing the saliva that coated your cock on her face with the expectation of her cleaning. Sunmi was about to say something, but all that came out was choked gargles due to her mouth and throat still clogged with your cum. She used her hands to caresses your balls gently, using her tongue to clean your cock to the best of her ability.

Sunmi let out a soft moan, “You must have been pent up huh, baby boy?” She softly said.

“Well, I can’t remember the last time a woman made me cum this hard before.” You replied, you loosened your grip on her head, giving the older woman a bit of movement. “I hope you’re still strong because tonight is going to be a long night, baby boy.” Sunmi’s eyes completely focus on your balls, still heavy and bloated with cum that are about to be hers. “Good thing I have a very high stamina.” You said, both of you laughing at your words. This is the reason why Sunmi preferred to have sex with someone who’s one year or more younger than her compared to one who's the same age or more than her. There’s a huge difference in stamina.

“Allow me to return the favor…” You said, lifted the older woman and threw her onto the bed. Sunmi spread her legs as wide as possible, giving you the best access towards her wet pussy, voluntarily, invitingly. “Eat me, please….” You bury your face between your legs, letting your skilled tongue licking through her soft folds, running up and down, drawing a loud cry from the older woman. Sunmi can’t help but bury her fingers into your hair and pull your head closer, deeper between her legs. She threw her head back, it was too much, it was wet and messy but also fast. The slurping sound that your mouth made really drives the older woman wild as you marked her inside with skillful sweeps of your tongue.

Every touch, every lick, every swipe of your tongue and lips amplified the pleasure a thousand times, which made all the muscles in her pelvis and ass contract and relax. One of your hands travelled around her body and found its way between her thighs and carefully easing two fingers into the older woman. “God…. Please don’t stop….” Sunmi fluttering around your fingers as you pressed your thumb against her clit. You looked at her and dear lord she looks extremely beautiful when she was begging, that makes you wonder if there is anyone else besides you who has seen this side of Sunmi before.

Sunmi tilted her hips upwards to meet with the movements of your fingers and you kept your focus on just two fingers as you kept flicking your tongue against her clit. Your fingers searches everywhere you can to reach deeper inside her and once you angles your fingers up a bit more, you can feel her entire body start to shake and Sunmi was clinging to the sheets as if they are a lifeline. “G-spot spotted…” You thought. Sunmi interlocked her fingers with yours and the other hand was clutching your hair, driving your face even deeper into her warmth. Your motions were already driving the older woman insane, her breath coming out in short pants and loud moans to the point she can’t hold it any longer and erupt. There is no other way to describe what she is feeling right now.

The older woman screams in pleasure and her hips buck wildly, she felt a rush of liquid leaving her body, coating your fingers, your face as you kept ramming your fingers and licking with your tongue, feeling her muscles on that one patch of skin contract tighter and tighter, keeping your fingers buried solidly inside her. Another small flood of wetness streaming down your hand as you feel her muscles relax only to contract again and again. Her chest was heaving, her head thrown back with her eyes completely closed as her orgasm slowly but surely subsided and once her muscles abruptly relaxed, you slowly pulled your fingers out of her.

Once her breathing had returned to a steady pace, she opened her eyes and looked into yours. “Ready for round 3?” She asked, a sexy grin on her face. You can’t help but smile knowing that tonight will be one of the best night you ever had in your life.

Again no full seggs, I'm sorry 😞 Also, there is a potential for this one-shot to become a series. I have an idea but I don't know if I have the energy + passion to do it

[inseobts]

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

kid x fem!reader ➜ law x fem!reader

Torn between the chaos you came from and the calm you’ve found, you begin to realize that leaving kid behind might have led you right where you were meant to be—with law.

a/n: I don't even know what to say lmao

tags: post-wano arc, slow burn, bittersweet ending (for kid), soft tho

words count: 6.6k

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Wano night sky is painted with bursts of color as fireworks explode over the festival. The smell of grilled meat, sweet dango, and fresh sake fills the air, mixing with the sounds of laughter and celebration.

You sit with the others outside a teahouse, enjoying the rare moment of peace. After everything, Kaido, Big Mom, the goddamn World Government, you all deserve a night to breathe. The Straw Hats are in full party mode, Luffy stuffing his face while Brook plays a lively tune. The Kid Pirates are drinking nearby, and the Heart Pirates are lingering close, not as rowdy but still celebrating.

And you’re just trying to relax.

But Kid is staring at you like he wants to burn a hole through your skull.

You pretend not to notice.

Killer, however, sighs beside you “He’s going to snap.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say flatly, bringing your drink to your lips.

Killer doesn’t even dignify that with a response.

It’s been like this for weeks now, Kid watching, brooding, acting like he’s got something stuck in his throat every time you so much as breathe near Law. And it’s ridiculous. You don’t get it. You’ve been with Kid for years. He knows where your heart lies.

But lately, it’s like he’s convinced you’ve already left him.

You shift your gaze toward Law, who is seated a few feet away, speaking with Bepo and Robin. He’s relaxed in that usual aloof way, sipping his drink, expression unreadable. You catch his eye and nod in acknowledgment, a small, meaningless gesture.

But Kid sees it.

And he loses it.

A heavy THUD shakes the table as Kid slams his metal fist against the wood, rattling everything on it. Conversations screech to a halt. Luffy pauses mid-bite, Nami’s drink almost spills, and even Zoro looks up with mild interest.

The entire courtyard falls silent.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snap, whipping around to face him.

“My problem?” Kid’s voice is sharp, full of something dark “You’re my problem.”

A heavy pause.

Your stomach twists “Excuse me?”

“You think I don’t fucking notice?” He stands abruptly, his massive frame towering over you “You act like I’m crazy, but every time I turn around, you’re with him.”

It takes you a second to realize who he means “Law?” you scoff “That’s what this is about?”

Law, to his credit, looks just as stunned as everyone else. His brows lift slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“Don’t play dumb” Kid growls. His voice isn’t just angry, it’s raw. Desperate “You don’t talk to me like you talk to him. You don’t even look at me the same way anymore.”

Your throat tightens “That’s not true. And can we talk about this alone? You’re ruining everyone’s mood.”

“Do I look like I care?” His jaw clenches, hands curling into fists “I see the way he looks at you.”

The weight of those words sinks over the crowd. A few heads turn toward Law, whose expression has gone carefully blank.

And that’s when it hits you.

Kid isn’t just angry.

He’s afraid.

Afraid that he’s already lost you. Afraid that maybe, deep down, he’s right.

Your fingers tighten around your cup “You’re being paranoid.”

Kid lets out a bitter, humorless laugh “Yeah? Then tell me, during the fight earlier, why did you esitate before coming to help me when that weirdo and I were both at our limits?”

A hush settles over the group.

And you don’t have an answer. Because dammit, Kid knows you too well.

You have found comfort in Law lately. Not because you ever meant to. Not because you wanted to. But because he listens, he’s steady, and somewhere along the way, you started trusting him in a way you hadn’t realized.

And Kid can see it.

Your silence is the final blow.

His sneer fades. His hands drop to his sides. The fire in his eyes dims, replaced by something broken.

“…I knew it.” His voice is hoarse “You’re better off without me.”

“Kid, stop—”

“Then leave.”

Your breath catches.

“What?”

He doesn’t hesitate “Get the fuck out.”

The words slam into you harder than any punch.

The crew stiffens. Killer stands immediately, stepping between you “Kid. Don’t do this.”

“This isn’t you, Captain” Heat mutters, looking genuinely unsettled.

But Kid doesn’t waver. He doesn’t look at them.

Just at you.

You force out a breath “You’re serious.”

His lips press into a thin line “Yeah.”

Something inside you cracks.

The world around you is still, too still. You can feel the weight of everyone’s stares, Straw Hats included. Luffy watches with uncharacteristic quiet, Sanji’s expression is unreadable, and even Zoro looks vaguely intrigued.

And Law looks like he’s been punched. Because suddenly, it’s not just about Kid’s jealousy. It’s about the fact that Law hadn’t realized he’d been that obvious.

His fingers twitch against his drink. He’s spent so long burying it, pretending his feelings for you didn’t exist because he knew, knew you loved Kid.

But Kid had noticed and now, Law doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You swallow hard, something hot rising in your throat “You’re a coward.”

Kid doesn’t react.

You shove past him, the weight of betrayal settling in your chest like a stone.

And then, before you can even think, a voice cuts through the night.

“…You can come with us.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

You stop mid-step, turning slowly.

Law is still seated, still composed, but his eyes are serious.

You search his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

He doesn’t look smug. He doesn’t look like he’s won.

He just looks…concerned. Like he wants to help. Like he wants you to come with him.

Kid snorts “Figures.” His voice is sharp, but there’s something underneath it, something close to defeat.

You hesitate, heart pounding.

And then, finally you nod.

“…Okay.”

Kid says nothing. And this time, you don’t look back.

The night doesn’t feel like a victory anymore.

The festival carries on, lanterns still floating lazily into the sky, fireworks still bursting overhead in bright, fleeting colors. But for you, for Kid, and for everyone who just witnessed the end of something that was never meant to fall apart like this, the air is heavy.

You stand there, still reeling, still processing what just happened.

Kid actually threw you out.

The Kid Pirates are still lingering, but they don’t look at you, not in anger, not in disgust, just with this uncomfortable, painful acceptance. Because as much as they hate it, as much as some of them want to grab you and drag you back, they know you don’t belong with them anymore. You belong somewhere else. With someone else.

Kid doesn’t wait for you to say anything.

He just turns on his heel, fists clenched, shoulders tight, and leaves.

His crew hesitates, but one by one, they follow.

Killer is the last to move. He stands there for a moment, head tilted down slightly, unreadable behind his mask. When he finally looks at you, he doesn’t say sorry. Doesn’t try to make excuses for Kid.

He just nods.

A quiet acknowledgment.

And then, they’re gone.

And the weight of it crashes into you all at once.

The silence they leave behind feels suffocating.

You exhale, shaky. Your body feels like lead, your heart feels like it’s sinking, and suddenly you don’t know what the hell you’re supposed to do next.

Then, a voice… soft, steady.

“Come on.”

You turn.

Law is standing beside you now, much closer than before. He doesn’t try to touch you, doesn’t try to force anything, he just waits.

You look at him, and for the first time, you actually see him.

Not just as an ally. Not just as the man who had been there, hovering at the edges of your life, never pushing, never asking for more than you were willing to give.

You see him.

And you realize… he’s been waiting for you this whole time.

You inhale deeply, blinking the stinging in your eyes away.

Then, finally, you nod “…Okay.”

Law doesn’t smile. He just nods back. And for the first time tonight, you don’t feel so lost.

The Polar Tang isn���t home. Not yet. But it’s safe.

The Heart Pirates don’t question your presence when you step onto the yellow submarine. They just let you exist, giving you space but not making you feel alone.

You sit in the mess hall, staring blankly at the cup of tea Shachi set in front of you. Steam curls in lazy swirls, but you don’t touch it.

Law is across from you, quiet. He’s watching, but not in a way that makes you feel exposed.

“Say it” you murmur.

He tilts his head slightly “Say what?”

“I don’t know.” You force a humorless chuckle “That you tried to warn me that time.”

Law exhales, rubbing his temple “That would make me an asshole.”

“You are an asshole.”

That makes him huff a short laugh, and for the first time tonight, something inside you loosens.

But then, the silence returns, and it’s heavier now, more personal.

You swallow “Did you really…?”

Law looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish.

You hesitate, but then push forward “Did you really have feelings for me?”

A pause. Then, Law’s gaze flickers away, just for a second.

“Tch.” He shifts, folding his arms over his chest “I thought I was being subtle.”

You huff, shaking your head “Kid saw it before I did.”

“Apparently.” He exhales slowly “Didn’t want to make things worse.”

You glance at him, brow furrowing.

“I knew you loved him,” Law continues “Knew that no matter how I felt, he was the one you wanted.” He looks at you then, and for the first time, you see the weight of everything he’s been holding back “I wasn’t going to get in the way of your happiness.”

You stare at him, something tight curling in your chest.

And suddenly, the jealousy, the anger, the desperation in Kid’s voice makes so much more sense.

Because Kid knew. And he wasn’t afraid of losing you to Law because of something Law did. He was afraid of losing you because you were already slipping away on your own.

You exhale shakily, looking down at your cup “I don’t know what I feel anymore.”

Law nods, like he expected that “You don’t have to.”

That surprises you “I don’t?”

“No.” He shrugs “Take your time.”

And for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Because Law isn’t asking you for an answer.

He’s just asking you to stay.

The first night on the Polar Tang is quiet… Too quiet.

You’re used to the noise of the Victoria Punk, the drunken laughter, the sound of metal clanking, the occasional explosion from Kid messing with his arm. Here, everything feels… still. The soft hum of the submarine’s engines is the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

You lie in the bunk Law had given you, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion weighing on your limbs. But your mind refuses to rest.

You keep hearing Kid’s voice “Then leave. Get the fuck out.”

Your throat tightens. You shut your eyes, willing the memory away.

It doesn’t work.

And maybe the worst part isn’t what happened, it’s that part of you understands why he did it.

He was right, wasn’t he? You’d already started slipping away. You just hadn’t realized it yet.

A heavy sigh escapes you, and finally, you give up. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stand, padding barefoot into the dimly lit hallway. You don’t know where you’re going, just away.

But of course, he’s already waiting.

Law is in the control room, sitting at the main table with medical reports scattered in front of him. He glances up as you step inside, eyes flickering with something unreadable before he shifts back to his work.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You shake your head, sliding into the seat across from him “Too much in my head.”

Law hums in understanding. He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask what’s bothering you. He already knows.

You rest your chin in your hand, watching him. The dim light casts soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his brows furrow in concentration. His tattooed fingers flip a page, barely acknowledging your stare.

Finally, you murmur, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He doesn’t pretend not to understand.

For a moment, he’s quiet, fingers drumming idly against the table. Then, he exhales.

“Because I didn’t want you to be unhappy.”

His voice is steady, even. But something about it makes your chest ache.

“Even if that meant losing me?”

Law’s jaw tightens slightly “I never had you in the first place.”

The honesty in his words nearly knocks the air from your lungs.

You stare at him, suddenly feeling like you’re seeing him for the first time. Really seeing him.

He’d never tried to take anything from you.

He just waited.

Even when it hurt.

Even when he thought it would never change.

You don’t know what to say to that.

So instead, you whisper, “I don’t know how to do this.”

Law watches you carefully “Do what?”

“…Start over.”

The words taste foreign in your mouth. Like admitting it makes it real. But Law doesn’t look surprised. He just leans back, considering you for a long moment. Then, he shrugs.

“Then don’t.”

You blink “What?”

“You don’t have to start over,” he says simply “You don’t have to rush anything. Just… exist for a while.”

That shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding “That sounds nice.”

A ghost of a smirk tugs at Law’s lips “That’s because I’m smart.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you laugh. A real, genuine laugh.

And Law… that bastard actually smiles. Just a little.

The Victoria Punk is far from Wano’s shores now.

The crew is silent. The only sound is the waves crashing against the hull.

Kid is at the front of the ship, arms braced against the railing, staring out at the open sea. He hasn’t spoken since they left.

No one knows what to say.

The ship feels empty.

Heat exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “It’s weird without her.”

“Yeah” Wire mutters.

The crew doesn’t often talk about feelings, but this? This is different. You were one of them. You should still be here. And yet…

Killer stands beside Kid, watching him carefully. He’s known him too long to expect an apology, or even regret. But he does see the way Kid’s fingers are gripping the railing like it’s the only thing holding him together.

“You fucked up” Killer says eventually.

Kid exhales sharply, gaze locked on the horizon “I know.”

The admission is quiet. Bitter.

Killer doesn’t rub it in. Just nods. The crew knows, too. They all saw it.

You had never belonged with them, not the way they did. You weren’t ruthless, weren’t reckless. You were sharp and strong, but you thought before you acted. You were logical, steady, patient.

You were never meant to be with a man like Kid.

You were meant for someone more like Law.

And that stings more than any wound Kid has ever taken.

Because deep down, he knows you're not coming back and that you're going to be happier for it.

So he does the only thing he can. He keeps sailing forward. Because if he stops now, if he lets himself really feel it, he’s afraid he might never start again.

It’s been a week since you left the Victoria Punk.

A week since Kid turned his back on you.

A week since you stepped onto the Polar Tang, still raw, still carrying the weight of everything you lost. And yet, for the first time in a long time, you feel… lighter.

Not because it doesn’t hurt, it still does. Some nights, you lie awake in the quiet of the submarine, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the life you left behind. About the crew you spent years with. About the reckless, stubborn, infuriating man you thought you’d spend your life beside.

But pain isn’t the only thing you feel anymore.

There’s something else, something new.

Something close to relief. And you don’t know how to deal with that.

So instead, you focus on what you can control. Like getting used to your new crew.

The Heart Pirates are different from the Kid Pirates in every way.

They don’t bark orders or throw punches for fun. They don’t pick fights just to prove something. They don’t push you to be louder, meaner, stronger.

They just let you be.

Penguin and Shachi are idiots, but they make you laugh. Bepo is kind and always makes sure you’re comfortable. Ikkaku gives you quiet smiles in passing. The rest of the crew doesn’t treat you like an outsider, they treat you like you’ve always been here.

And then there’s Law.

He’s not hovering. He doesn’t coddle you or try to pry into your thoughts. He just exists beside you, giving you space when you need it, speaking when necessary.

And somehow, that makes it easier for you to breathe.

You’re on the deck now, watching Wano’s coastline disappear behind the waves. You rest your arms on the railing, inhaling deeply, letting the salt air clear your mind.

“You regret it?”

You glance to your right.

Law is standing beside you, watching the horizon.

You raise an eyebrow “What, leaving?”

He nods slightly.

You hesitate, considering the question. Do you regret it?

You’d spent years convincing yourself that Kid was your future. That his world, his crew, his love, as violent and volatile as it was, was enough.

But now?

You exhale slowly “No. I mean... I was actually kicked out, but I don't regret not fighting to stay there.”

Law doesn’t react right away, but something in his posture relaxes.

“…Good.”

You smirk “What, were you worried?”

“Tch.” He scoffs, crossing his arms “You’re annoying when you’re brooding.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head “You’re an ass.”

Law shrugs “Nothing new.”

For the first time, your chest doesn’t feel quite so heavy.

You don’t know what comes next. You don’t know what your future looks like without Kid in it.

But for the first time in a long time… You think you might be okay. Maybe this is where you were meant to be all along.

Even though you’ve told yourself you don’t regret leaving, that doesn’t mean you don’t miss it.

You miss the chaos. The reckless laughter. The way the Kid Pirates always felt like they were crashing forward at full speed, unafraid of whatever came next.

You miss them.

You miss him.

And it’s infuriating, because you shouldn’t. Not after everything. Not after the way he threw you away like you were something disposable.

Your hands grip the railing tighter.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

You glance sideways.

Law is beside you, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as he watches you. He’s frustratingly perceptive, and he’s been watching you more closely ever since you stepped foot on his ship.

You huff “I don’t think you get to decide how much I think.”

He doesn’t argue. Just exhales and leans forward, resting his arms on the railing “You should let yourself be angry.”

You blink, caught off guard “I am angry.”

Law gives you a look.

You scowl “What?”

“You’re trying too hard to be reasonable.” He tilts his head, expression unreadable “You’re allowed to be mad that he threw you out.”

You turn away, jaw tightening. You are mad. You’re furious. But there’s this voice in the back of your head, whispering he thought he was doing what was best for you.

And the worst part? Maybe he was right.

You inhale sharply, shaking your head “It doesn’t matter.”

Law watches you carefully. Then, after a moment “You loved him.”

It’s not a question.

It’s a fact.

You swallow “Yeah. I got weird taste.”

A beat of silence.

“And now?”

You grip the railing harder, staring out at the sea.

“…I don’t know.”

And that’s the truth. You don’t know if love is something that disappears overnight. If it can vanish just because it should.

But you do know that you can’t go back. Even if Kid wanted you to. Even if his crew begged him to take it back.

Something between you and him had shattered, and no amount of time would piece it back together the same way. You should have known the second doubts started to fill your mind when you met Law.

Law hums in understanding “Then don’t rush it.”

You huff a laugh “You say that a lot.”

He shrugs “Because you need to hear it.”

You glance at him, studying the way he leans against the railing, calm and steady as ever.

“I never realized how patient you are” you murmur.

Law lifts a brow “Surgeons don’t rush.”

You smirk “Right. Sometimes I forget you’re a freaky doctor.”

He doesn’t argue. But there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes your breath hitch slightly. A quiet, lingering warmth. A patience that makes your chest tighten for reasons you’re not quite ready to face.

So instead, you exhale and turn back to the horizont.

For now, you just let yourself exist, and honestly, it doesn’t feel so hard.

Days blend into weeks, and somehow the world feels a little quieter, a little more settled, but not less complicated.

The Polar Tang keeps moving, its engines humming through the sea, and you find yourself at a strange peace with the routine. The Heart Pirates are kind, and they welcome you without pushing you to be anything you’re not.

But even though things seem calmer, something is still there. You can feel it lurking under the surface, like a ripple that never quite fades away.

It’s not the anger anymore, that has faded to a dull ache. It’s not the resentment either, or even the loss.

It’s the question.

The question you can’t answer.

What now?

You find yourself pacing the deck late one night, moonlight glistening on the water as the wind tugs at your hair. You’ve gotten used to the solitude, to the long hours spent thinking. But tonight, it’s different. Something is hanging in the air.

And you’re not alone.

You hear his footsteps before you see him, the quiet scrape of boots against the metal floor.

Law appears from the shadows, his figure framed by the dim glow of the moon. He doesn’t say anything immediately. He just stands there, his gaze following the path you’ve worn in the floorboards.

For a moment, you both just exist in the silence.

“You’ve been quiet” Law finally says, his voice breaking the calm like a stone dropped into still water.

You don’t meet his gaze “I’m thinking.”

“I can tell.”

You stop, hands braced on the railing, staring out into the vast expanse of the ocean. There’s so much you don’t know, and you can’t help but wish you could fast-forward through this feeling of being stuck.

“Do you ever wonder…” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, “…if we’re all just running from something?”

Law doesn’t immediately answer. His footsteps are silent as he moves closer, stopping just a few feet behind you.

“Sometimes,” he says quietly “I think it’s the only way we stay sane.”

You laugh softly, but there’s no humor in it “I’m not sure ‘sane’ is the word I’d use.”

“No,” he agrees, a small hint of a smirk in his voice “But it’s the word that keeps us going.”

You fall into another silence, the weight of the past lingering between you.

And then, against all logic, against everything that makes sense, you speak the question that’s been clawing at you for days.

“Do you think I’ll ever stop missing him?”

Law takes a moment to answer, his voice soft and steady “I think it’s possible.”

You look at him then, searching his face. There’s no trace of bitterness in his expression, no hint of wanting you to stop. Just something… knowing.

“I don’t want to be angry anymore,” you say, frustration creeping into your voice “But it’s like he’s always there, in the back of my mind.”

“That’s not something you can rush” Law replies.

You exhale, feeling the sting of his words settle deep within you. He’s right, of course. This isn’t something you can fix overnight. It’s not a wound that heals just because you want it to.

It takes time.

You nod slowly “I know.”

You just have to… be.

Months later

The Polar Tang hums beneath your feet, steady as a heartbeat. The crew is scattered, doing their usual rounds. Quiet. Peaceful.

The medical bay is quiet, lit by a few low lamps. Law is hunched over his desk, gloved hands flipping through charts, brows drawn in focus. You slip in without a word and perch on the stool beside him, legs swinging, arms draped across your knees.

He doesn’t look up. He never does at first.

You lean just a little closer, chin propped in your hand, voice soft and teasing “You know, it’s kind of creepy how long you can go without blinking.”

Law sighs, still not looking at you “You’re distracting.”

“That’s not an order to leave, I see” you hum, lips twitching.

Finally, he glances at you just a flick of his eyes. And it’s fast, but you catch it. That little pause in his breath. The way his gaze lingers for a second too long on your mouth before flicking back to the papers.

“I’m working” he mutters.

You grin, all teeth and mischief “Yeah, I can tell. Very serious. So focused.” You lean forward just a bit more, enough that your shoulder brushes his “You want me to be quiet?”

“Yes.”

You smile wider “Liar.”

This time, he looks at you fully, head tilting slightly. His expression is flat, but his eyes always give him away.

“What makes you say that?”

You shrug innocently, still perched far too close “If you really wanted me gone, you’d have used Room by now.”

Law’s lips twitch. Barely. But you catch it. Victory.

“You’re insufferable” he says quietly.

You nudge his arm with your elbow “You like it.”

He doesn’t answer. Just exhales slowly through his nose and goes back to his notes. But he doesn’t move away. And that says more than anything else.

You lean your head to the side, resting your cheek against your hand, watching him work. The silence between you isn’t awkward anymore. It’s easy. Comfortable. Like you’ve always belonged here.

“You know,” you say after a while, “you get this little crease between your brows when you’re concentrating. Right there—” You reach out, fingertip brushing just above his nose.

Law freezes.

Your hand lingers for a breath too long before you pull it back, oblivious, or pretending to be.

He clears his throat, flipping a page with a little more force than necessary “Maybe if someone stopped interrupting me, the crease wouldn’t be there.”

You grin “So grumpy. You sure you’re not secretly eighty?”

“We're the same age.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Law finally leans back in his chair and turns to face you, arms crossing over his chest “Do you need something?”

You pretend to think “Nope. Just wanted to bother you.”

He exhales again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

But when he opens his eyes, that look is back. The soft one. The one that only ever shows up when he’s looking at you and doesn’t think you’ll notice.

“You really don’t have anything better to do?”

You shake your head, smiling easily “Nah. You’re my favorite distraction.”

Law blinks, and for the first time tonight, you catch him off guard. Just for a second, his mask slips. And it’s not annoyance you see. It’s something deeper. Something warmer.

He doesn’t say anything.

So you hop off the stool, stretching, and pat his shoulder as you pass.

“I’ll leave you to your brooding. Try not to miss me while I’m gone.”

His breath catches but you’re already at the door, grinning to yourself.

You don’t see it, but Law watches you the entire way out. Eyes soft. Quiet. Stubbornly fond.

You don’t realize how much he’s fallen.

More weeks pass and one morning, you’re back in the infirmary.

You don’t say anything when you enter. Just slide into the same stool beside Law, like you belong there. You cross your legs, chin in your hand, eyes on the notes spread across his desk like they’re the most interesting thing in the world.

He barely acknowledges you.

You can see the twitch in his jaw. The way his pen stills for half a second before he keeps writing. The way his posture shifts just slightly toward you, like your presence settles something inside him.

“So…” you say, all lightness and mischief, “how does one apply to be your favorite?”

Law doesn’t look up “Favorite what?”

“Person.”

He exhales slowly, scribbling something onto the page in front of him “You already are” he says, too casually.

You blink, caught off guard “Oh.”

Your grin returns a second later, all amused heat “You’re getting bolder, doc.”

He still doesn’t look at you, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn slightly pink beneath his hat.

Outside the med bay, Shachi and Penguin pass by. The door’s cracked open.

They stop and peek in.

Exchange glances.

“Should we—” Penguin whispers.

“Nope,” Shachi hisses, dragging him by the collar “We’ll ruin it.”

Inside, Law turns a page that’s already been turned.

You don’t notice. Not really. Or maybe you do. Maybe you’re playing with fire and pretending you’re not holding the match.

Either way, he’s very much burning.

Later, in the mess hall, Bepo slides into the seat beside you with a tray of fruit and a very serious expression.

He offers you a sliced mango like a peace offering.

You take it “Thanks, Bepo.”

He glances around. Lowers his voice “You’re… really close with the Captain lately.”

You raise a brow “We’ve always been close.”

“No,” Bepo says flatly “Not like that.”

You blink innocently “Like what?”

He sighs. Long and patient “You’re smiling more. He’s grumpier.”

“That just sounds like balance.”

“He looked like he was gonna pass out when you touched his hair yesterday.”

You frown, thoughtful “Huh. That’s weird. I do that all the time.”

Bepo stares at you, deadpan “Exactly.”

You pop a slice of mango in your mouth and glance toward the doorway where Law had just passed minutes earlier, still reading his damn charts like they were gospel. Still with that slight hitch in his step whenever you were too close. Still pretending he was fine when everyone else could see he was very, very not fine.

And you were starting to like the way his breath caught when you smiled.

But you still weren’t rushing. You were just… here.

The crew was silently placing bets on when the captain would finally snap and kiss you.

Weeks later

“Here” Law’s voice interrupts your thoughts, his hand offering you a cup of tea, steam curling up from the top. His movements are slow, deliberate. There’s no rush. He doesn’t force you into anything.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His expression is calm, as usual, but there’s something in his eyes now, something that makes your chest tighten in a way that feels both foreign and familiar.

“Thanks” you say, taking the cup from him. It’s warm against your hands, and you bring it to your lips, the scent of the tea calming you. It’s nothing like the way Kid would’ve thrown a mug at you, or shouted at you if you didn’t take something immediately. With Law, everything feels… softer. You’ve realized that, over time, it’s exactly what you needed.

You sit beside him, leaning back against the railing of the ship. The sea breeze is gentle today, and the sound of the waves soothes you in a way that nothing else can.

For a moment, there’s silence between you two. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s different. The quiet feels right. Unlike with Kid, who always filled the space with noise, with Law, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence. You can simply exist.

“How’s the crew doing?” you ask, trying to break the quiet. You haven’t spent much time around the crew recently, preferring to stay on deck with Law.

“They’re fine,” Law says, his tone easy, casual “They can take care of themselves.”

You nod, sipping your tea, the steam rising between you. You catch yourself staring at him again, and this time, you don’t look away.

At first, you couldn’t understand why Kid had let you go with Law. It didn’t make sense, not then. He pushed you away and seemed to believe that you and Law were a better match.

But as time passes, you understand. Law is patient with you. He gives you space, but he’s always there when you need him, like now. You feel safe with him in a way you never did with Kid. It’s not that you didn’t love Kid... you did, but with Law, you’re starting to see that maybe Kid was right.

“You’re not like him, are you?” you say suddenly, your voice almost a whisper, the thought finally breaking free.

Law looks at you, his brow slightly furrowed, waiting for you to continue.

“I mean…” You hesitate, unsure of how to explain what you’re thinking “With Kid, everything was always… loud. There was no room to breathe. But with you,” you pause, feeling your heart race for reasons you don’t fully understand “With you, I can breathe. You let me be myself.”

There’s a brief silence before Law speaks again, his voice gentle but honest “I don’t want you to be someone else. You’re enough as you are.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, your throat tightens. You’ve never heard anything like that before, not from Kid, at least. With him, there was always a push, a need to be something you weren’t. But with Law, there’s only acceptance. You’ve never felt more… yourself.

You lower your cup, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest “I never understood why he pushed me to you. Why he let me go. But I think I get it now.”

Law doesn’t say anything, but you can see the smallest shift in his expression, like he’s pleased that you’ve finally figured it out. He doesn’t ask you to say more, doesn’t press. He simply leans back, watching the horizon.

There’s something in the way you’re looking at him now that makes your heart race again, but this time, it’s different. This time, it feels like a warmth settling inside you, one you didn’t expect to find.

For the first time since everything happened with Kid, you realize that maybe Law is exactly who you were supposed to end up with. He’s calm, patient, and steady in a way you never realized you needed.

And, just like that, you realize that falling in love with him doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving Kid. It means you’ve found someone who fits you better. And the love you felt for Kid? It was real. But this? This is something different.

Something deeper.

“I think…” You pause, your voice barely above a whisper “I think I’m falling for you, Law.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, but when he does, his voice is low, soft “I know.”

Your heart skips a beat. Maybe it’s the way he says it, or maybe it’s the way he’s always been there, quiet but sure. Whatever it is, you know it now. You’re not just with him. You’re falling, slowly, steadily, into a love you never expected.

And this time, it feels like home.

One year later since Wano — Kid’s POV

The letter arrives without warning. Just a plain envelope, worn at the edges, smudged slightly with travel.

Killer drops it on the table in front of him without a word.

Kid eyes it like it might explode.

There’s no name on the front. But he knows the handwriting. He stares at it for a long time before picking it up, thumb tracing the edges like he’s not sure if he wants to open it. But he does.

The letter wasn’t special at first glance.

Just a folded piece of paper slipped between the pages of a merchant log, handed off by some wandering courier on a random island port.

Kid almost didn’t notice it. He rarely cared much for anything written, he wasn’t the type to sit and read. But something about the handwriting on the outside caught his eye.

His name. Just that. No crew insignia, no flourish. Just his name, scribbled in a way he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

His fingers hesitated before unfolding it. And then, he started reading.

Hey, Kid. Didn’t think I’d be writing you, huh? It’s been a while. I hope you’re still alive and yelling at someone somewhere (Knowing you, the answer is yes). I just wanted to check in and say… thank you. And also let you know how things turned out. So... you probably know I’m with Law now, since people keep calling us the "power couple" or whatever. It kind of snuck up on both of us, honestly. He was just… patient, in that annoying calm way of his. He never pressured me, just gave me space to breathe, to think, to heal. I didn’t even realize how much I needed that until it was right in front of me. He treats me so gently. Not like I’m fragile, just… like I matter. And I know this might sound weird, but I think part of the reason I was able to even get here, to this version of myself, is you. You let me go that day in Wano. You didn’t fight it. And even though it hurt—hell, it really hurt—it was what I needed. You read through me better than I could read myself. You knew I didn’t belong in that life anymore before I did. So… thank you. For letting me go. For not holding on when I couldn’t make myself walk away. The Heart Pirates are like a real family now. I’ve found my place. I do miss the chaos of your crew sometimes, though. The yelling, the mess, the ridiculous fights over food. Heat, Wire, Killer… I hope they’re all doing okay. Tell them I said hi, please. I hope you’re doing okay. Really. I hope wherever you are, whoever you’re with, you’ve found something that makes you feel whole. Like what I have now. I guess that’s all I really wanted to say. Thank you. I hope you’re happy. I am, thanks to you. – Y/N

Kid didn’t move for a while after reading it.

He stood on the edge of the Victoria Punk, letter still in his hand, the breeze tugging at the paper like it wanted to carry it away. He could hear the crew shouting somewhere in the distance, laughing about something stupid, probably.

His jaw clenched. Not in anger. Not even in bitterness.

Just… something tight. Deep.

He read the last few lines again.

“I hope you’re happy. Like I am.”

You were gone. And you were happy.

He folded the letter carefully and tucked it into the pocket inside his coat.

Then he turned, walking back toward the noise of his crew.

He didn’t say a word.

But there was the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. A ghost of something that looked a little like peace.

[emmiesoverthemoon]

emergency kitty babysitter's club

pairing: platonic ot8 x reader

word count: 7.1k

summary: you have to head out of town and you can't leave your precious cat alone, so you decide to call in a favour from your favourite 8 friends.

tags: fluff. cat nonsense. established friendship. skz being skz

You don't anticipate chaos. Not at first at least.

In fact, you expect this to go quite smoothly. After all, the request is simple, the time commitment minimal, and your companions—though chaotic—are all capable adults. Mostly. You tell yourself that a cat-sitting arrangement with your friend group is no different from asking anyone else. Perhaps it will even be charming. Domestic. Bonding.

You should have known better.

The group chat has barely been appropriately renamed to “emergency kitty babysitter's club🐾” when panic begins to unfold.

channie: wait is something wrong why is it named that???

hyunjin: if this is a real emergency i’m going to cry

seungmin: i bet it’s something ridiculous like ‘her plant looked sad’

you: wow okay rude. it is NOT a plant this time thank you.

you: i need someone to watch my daughter, princess murder volcano for the weekend pls pls pls😼

A long pause follows. A virtual silence, if you will. Then—

han: i’m sorry her name is WHAT...

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Princess. Murder. Volcano,” you repeat aloud, as if saying it in your own voice might lend it dignity. As if verbal confirmation would translate through to the men when the conversation was indeed, online. The cat in question is peacefully purring in your lap, snoozing and occasionally huffing or twitching, as if she is in the peak of dreamland.

you: i didn't name her that

you: she chose it herself

jeongin: what kind of cat chooses her own name ???

minho: the dangerous kind. i remember her. she scratched my thigh and then stole my snack.

you: that was one time! she's just a baby

hyunjin: she stared straight into my damn soul. don’t get me started on MY SHIRT. i still have nightmares abt it. she knows things we don't

you: okay....dramatic... no daughter of mine has been raised to behave in such a way

you: anyway listen. i’ll be gone for three days for my cousin’s wedding. i just need you guys to check in, feed her, play with her a bit ! nothing wild. she mostly just sleeps and runs up and down the hallway.... pleaseeee !! i'll treat you when i come back

felix: i’ll do it!! 🥺 i love cats

binnie: me too! this’ll be fun 🤩🤩

minho: you are all fools. she is not a cat. she is a small, elegant war criminal.

seungmin: sounds like your type hyung

You close your eyes and count to ten.

They do, in the end, agree. Through passive-aggressive commentary, chaotic enthusiasm, and mild dread, they do accept the mission. You feel something close to warmth bloom in your chest. Relief, maybe. Gratitude.

Foolish, foolish you.

Because no amount of love or loyalty can prepare a group of overworked idols for one deceptively fluffy, emotionally manipulative, semi-feral feline with the spiteful intelligence of a Victorian widow plotting the downfall of every man who ever wronged her. You're sure that it will be okay—she is not one to misbehave for you!

On the day of your departure, you smile and you wave goodbye to the boys. You leave your precious, sweet, innocent daughter, Princess Murder Volcano in their hands.

And so it begins.

You have yet to even reach the airport security line before your phone begins vibrating incessantly in your bag.

The group chat has transformed into a war room.

channie: she’s glaring at me

felix: nooo she’s just curious 🥺🥺 she’s probably getting used to you

minho: she’s plotting his downfall.

seungmin: if we just don't leave the back door open it'll be fine

You resist the urge to laugh aloud. Instead, you open the chat and peek at the latest photo: Princess Murder Volcano perched on top of your fridge, fluffed out like a disapproving cloud, eyes narrowed at the mere concept of human interaction, let alone with a man. Her ears are slightly tilted outward and back, and her boofy tail curls and uncurls like a fuse.

you: she can be people shy at first! it's fine i promise☺️gtg, i’m at security!

You really should know better.

Day One's debacles begin with Chan, who has shown up with a clipboard.

There are bullet points, color-coded sticky tabs, and a hydration log. He has scheduled enrichment time, litter scooping, feeding windows with optional treat intervals. He has printed out an actual feeding plan and is now consulting it while crouching near her pink food bowl.

“She gets fourteen grams in the morning and ten in the evening, right? Split into two intervals to match her natural hunting cycle?”

“Sure,” Seungmin says, already bored. “Why not teach her to file taxes while you’re at it?”

Princess Murder Volcano sniffs the food and walks away, choosing instead to stare unblinking at Chan from several steps away, paws tucked neatly beneath her body like a loaf of bread with grievances.

He attempts to coax her closer with a laser pointer. She does not even blink.

“Enrichment prevents behaviour problems,” Chan mutters, turning the dot in desperate, swirling patterns across the hardwood flooring. “Keeps their brains active. Lowers stress hormones.”

After an embarrassingly long time, Princess does move, albeit not for the laser pointer; instead she leaps onto the kitchen counter and reaches one paw out. Slowly, with deep intent, she knocks his full water bottle off the island. The metal hits the floor with a loud thud.

Chan stares, stunned by her audacity. She blinks unapologetically and returns to her loafing position.

“Well. Okay.”

Minho, predictably, arrives with armour. Not literal armour—but there is a cautiousness to him that screams veteran of previous battles.

“She remembers me,” he mutters, standing stiffly just inside the door. “I know she does.”

“She’s a cat, hyung,” Jeongin says, watching from the safety of the hallway.

“Exactly. She remembers.”

Minho kneels slowly, cautiously. He extends a small stuffed mouse toy attached to a string. She sniffs it once, then lashes out with surgical precision. A single clawed swipe—nothing dramatic, just enough to leave a faint raised red line trailing down his knuckles.

Minho retracts his hand like he has touched a stovetop.

“She’s gentle,” Felix offers, concerned.

“She’s vengeful,” Minho replies, moving to the kitchen and muttering something about boundary-training and spiritual warfare. He proceeds to scatter cucumber slices across the floor in a perfect circle and perches behind the couch to observe.

“She won’t cross it,” he says grimly.

She immediately does, as if spite itself fuelled her small being.

Hyunjin arrives like he is walking onto a battlefield dressed for the Met Gala.

Hair messy but in the most perfect way, rings meticulously stacked on his fingers, scarf flowing behind him like a war banner. He steps inside and freezes, locking eyes with the cat perched atop your windowsill like a queen guarding her castle.

“Ah,” he says softly. “It’s you.”

The others barely glance up. This is normal for Hyunjin.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he continues, toeing off his shoes. “That day you stole my heart... and then shredded it.”

“She sat in your laundry basket,” Han deadpanned from the couch.

“She clawed my silk shirt,” Hyunjin corrects, voice laced with betrayal. “She knew it was silk I swear.”

Princess Murder Volcano yawns.

He drops his bag with theatrical flair and strides forward slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“You and I,” he says, his voice low, “have unfinished business.”

The cat does not move.

Hyunjin crouches, level with her gaze. “Do you yield?”

Her tail twitches, as if challenging him.

A slow, intense silence descends upon the room. Felix stops mid-sentence. Jeongin holds his breath. Even Minho peeks over the back of the couch like a drama-hungry spectator.

And then—lightning fast—she leaps down from the sill and brushes against Hyunjin’s legs on her way to the food bowl. Not submissive. Not friendly. Just... dismissive.

Hyunjin stands there, stunned.

“She... walked past me.”

“She’s over it,” Seungmin says, “You should be too.”

“No,” Hyunjin breathes. “She won. She chose kibble over me.”

He drops onto the arm of the couch like a spurned lover, eyes dark with tragic reflection.

“She’s more powerful than I imagined.”

Changbin enters the space with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever at a birthday party.

“PRINCESS!” he bellows, holding out a treat with both hands. “WHO’S A LITTLE DANGER? WHO’S GOT TINY MURDER IN HER PAWS?”

Princess drawls out a long meow in reply.

The room stills.

“She—she talked to me,” Changbin whispers.

“No, she warned you,” Minho says without looking up from his cucumber circle.

Changbin sits cross-legged, letting her sniff his hand. She headbutts his palm once—then immediately darts to the other side of the room as fast as possible like nothing significant had ever happened.

“She’s playing mind games,” Seungmin notes.

“She’s mysterious,” Changbin defends, completely smitten.

Han, meanwhile, is documenting everything.

There’s a ring light set up in the hallway. He films in whispered tones like he’s in a nature documentary. From behind the bookshelf, you can hear him narrating.

“This is day one,” he says solemnly. “She’s taken the high ground. Morale is fracturing. Chan has retreated to the kitchen. We’ve lost Minho to paranoia and Hyunjin to drama school delusions.”

He zooms in on the cat as she licks her paw like she owns the place.

“She shows no sign of fear. No remorse. Only mild boredom. I think she’s toying with us.”

“She is,” Jeongin says flatly.

Felix brings a level of sincerity no one else can match.

He sits near the coffee table, legs criss-cross on the floor, hands cupped and eyes full of stars.

“Hi, baby,” he coos gently. “You don't have to come over if you don't want to. I'm just happy to share your space with you. I come in peace...”

Princess blinks and lets her eyes bore into Felix.

He gently places a treat in front of him and looks away, nonthreatening. She creeps forward, her tiny white paws creating dainty steps. She swiftly munches up the treat, making loud chewing noises as she looks up to him.

And then, like a miracle, she pads forward, climbs into his lap, and curls up into a small spherical ball of cream fur.

“She chose me,” Felix breathes.

She stretches one paw and knocks his phone off of his thigh to the floor with a soft thud.

He beams nonetheless.

Seungmin does not volunteer to help with the cat. He simply shows up—hood up, earbuds in, sipping a coffee—and looks around like he already regrets it.

“She’s not going to eat you, she’s actually really nice!” Felix assures him.

“That is not what I’m worried about,” Seungmin replies blandly, “I’m more concerned that I will become emotionally attached and she will ruin me.”

The cat blinks at him from atop your bookshelf.

He blinks back.

A beat passes.

Seungmin sighs and takes a seat on your sofa, pulling out his laptop like he is prepared to work from within enemy territory. He does not try to pet her. He does not speak in high-pitched tones. He simply exists near her, radiating mild disdain and infinite patience.

Oddly… she seems intrigued.

He catches her watching him, head tilted ever so slightly. When he slides his iced coffee onto the side table, she’s down in a flash, silently stalking over.

“Boundaries,” Seungmin warns, not even looking up.

She presses her nose to the condensation on his cup. He shifts the cup a small distance away. She shifts closer. They lock eyes.

“This is not a power struggle,” he mutters. “You will not win.”

She flops dramatically onto the table and begins licking her paw.

Seungmin exhales through his nose. “You’re ridiculous.”

But—he adjusts the cup. Just slightly. So she will not get brain freeze.

“Softie,” Han teases, watching from across the room.

“I will sue you,” Seungmin replies calmly.

When she curls up next to him twenty minutes later, back pressed against his leg like a smug little heater, he pretends not to notice.

He scrolls through his phone at low volume.

She purrs, sending vibrations of a healing frequency through his leg.

He glances down. “You’re manipulative.”

She yawns and stretches, her paw stretching out to push against his thigh.

“…Fine. You are a little cute.”

And finally, Jeongin, youngest, least experienced, attempts to contribute by making popcorn for everyone. But alas, the microwave begins to smoke.

“I can feel her staring at the microwave like she wants to set it on fire with her mind,” he reports, waving a dish towel near the smoke detector.

In attempt to clear some of the smoke from the popcorn bowl, he slides the glass door which leads to the backyard open for exactly twelve seconds.

A breeze slips in. A white blur streaks across the living room floor.

“Wait,” Jeongin says, eyes widening. “Where’s the cat?”

Everyone becomes quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Not earned. Just that too still sort of hush that lands like a dropped pin in a ticking bomb room.

Felix’s head whips around. His whole body jerks upright, like his soul has left his body and come crashing back all at once.

“She was just on the couch,” he says, eyes already scanning the room. “Right here. Right here—where is she?”

No answer.

Only the soft creak of the barely ajar screen door, further nudged open by a lazy gust of wind.

Minho reacts first.

No sound. No warning. Just pure instinct—he vaults over the arm of the couch and lunges for the door like a SWAT officer. He throws it wide, scanning the yard in one sweeping glance, already halfway onto the porch.

“She’s out,” he confirms darkly. “Backyard perimeter compromised.”

“What?!” Chan bolts upright from the kitchen island, eyes wide and already haunted. “How did she—”

“The door,” Seungmin mutters from under his breath, standing with stiff annoyance. “The one I said not to leave open?”

“Technically it was closed,” Han says, following behind with his arms full of cat toys and very little shame. “Just… lightly. Emotionally closed.”

“She’s a cat,” Hyunjin says, appearing in the doorway in a billowing cardigan. “Not a ghost.”

Jeongin is peering out the window, pupils blown like saucers. “She’s in the garden beds. I see her. She’s rolling in the dirt like she belongs there. She's gonna be all dirty!”

And she is.

Princess Murder Volcano—tail flicking, eyes glowing in the sun like two shards of vengeful turquoise—sits proudly among the petunias like a warlord surveying her domain.

“Do not spook her,” Minho warns, raising one hand. “Don't even think about calling her name.”

“She’s already seen us,” Felix whispers, pressing his forehead to the glass. “She’s watching. She knows. She knows everything.”

“She’s licking her paw,” Changbin says, breathless. “Is that... a threat?”

“It’s worse,” Hyunjin replies solemnly. “It’s mockery.”

The mission unfolds in chaotic fragments.

Chan is pacing the kitchen, pulling together what he calls an “extraction strategy.” Of course, no one listens.

Jeongin is already outside with a blanket, tiptoeing through the grass like a nervous cartoon thief. She turns her head slowly, tracking his every step.

“I'm just visiting,” he says softly. “Just a simple gardener. I mean no harm. I'm benevolent—”

She hisses, a sound like a kettle left to scream too long. Jeongin flinches so hard he nearly topples backward into the bush of roses.

“She’s not playing,” he yelps, scampering back toward the house. “She is not playing!”

Felix crouches at the back door, treats in one hand, heartbreak in the other. “Sweetheart,” he calls gently. “You remember me, right? I gave you a treat. You let me boop your nose. That meant something to me.”

She blinks, then turns away nonchalantly.

“Cold,” Hyunjin murmurs from inside. “She’s colder than an ex.”

“She knows we’re panicking,” Seungmin says, rubbing at his temples. “She’s feeding off it.”

“Okay,” Han says, now back with what appears to be a laser pointer strapped to a stick. “New tactic. Diversion and distraction. We blind her with red dot science, someone sneaks in from the east.”

Minho ignores him. He is moving again—silent, smooth, low to the ground.

You would almost think he had trained for this. He probably has, considering his own cats.

He rounds the edge of the deck, eyes locked, stance relaxed. The cat watches him, tail twitching like a fuse.

The moment stretches—

And explodes.

She bolts straight up the nearest tree.

Minho stops mid-step, closes his eyes briefly like he is experiencing a full system failure, then turns slowly on his heel and walks back into the house.

“She is in the oak tree,” he reports dully. “That's as far as I go.”

“She’s gone feral,” Han gasps.

“She's been feral,” Seungmin mutters.

“She’s majestic,” Felix whispers again.

Five of the boys pace aimlessly. One climbs a fence. One googles “do cats feel remorse.”

And Jeongin, still in his socks, saves the day.

He kneels near the garden path—no fanfare, no grand speeches—and opens a pouch of tuna, the stinky kind, the kind you only use in emergencies or emotional blackmail.

The snap of the foil seal is the only sound in the yard.

And slowly, like a queen descending from her throne, Princess Murder Volcano pads down the tree.

She does not run. She saunters. She stops three times to clean her paw. She makes eye contact with everyone.

Then she walks right into the kitchen, brushes the length of her body against Felix’s leg affectionately, and curls up on the floor like nothing ever happened.

Silence again. Except now, it is different. Heavier. Awestruck.

“She is chaos incarnate,” Hyunjin says finally.

“She is victory,” says Minho.

“She is unbothered,” says Jeongin, holding the empty tuna pouch like a relic from war.

“She is grounded,” says Chan, grabbing his clipboard. “Indefinitely.”

The cat yawns and knocks the treat jar off the counter.

Day Two begins with hope. Dangerous, foolish, hubristic hope.

The morning is bright. Birds are chirping. The cat is purring, curled at the foot of Chan’s bed like a cherub who has never committed a single crime.

“You know,” Chan says, sipping coffee and watching her fondly, “I think we’re getting the hang of this.”

Seungmin looks up from his phone. “Did you just say that out loud?”

“I’m just saying she seems… relaxed. Peaceful. Like she trusts us.”

Hyunjin pokes his head into the kitchen, blinking sleepily. “What are we talking about?”

“The cat,” says Felix, feeding her another treat with the reverence of a man giving communion. “She’s mellow today.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin says, yawning. “So we’re jinxing it early. Cool.”

The idea comes from Minho.

Which is important, because it means no one can argue.

“She’s filthy,” he says bluntly, arms crossed. “She smells like mulch and attitude. She's got patches of green and brown all over her, her fur was white when we arrived.”

“She rolled in the flowerbed and played in the grass,” Jeongin adds from the couch, nose wrinkled. “Like, rolled. Fully. I watched.”

“She looks happy,” Han says, filming a slow zoom of her face. “This is the look of a woman who’s done crimes and will do more.”

“Right,” Minho continues, ignoring them all. “Which is why we’re bathing her.”

Silence.

Then seven people speak at once:

“You what—”

“No no no—”

“Do you want to die—”

“Minho, I care about you—”

“She’s going to eat us,” says Seungmin, entirely serious.

“She is literally purring right now,” Minho replies. “It’s the perfect time.”

“That’s a trap,” Chan says.

“She’s coiled,” adds Han. “Like a spring. Or a snake. Or a regret.”

Felix looks pale. “Do we have a will? Like… a shared one?”

Despite every sign from the universe, the decision is made.

The bathtub is filled—warm, shallow, with a drizzle of cat-safe soap.

Hyunjin lights a candle “for peace.”

Han plays gentle jazz “to soothe the mood.”

Jeongin Googles “feline CPR” just in case.

Felix brings in a towel he warmed in the dryer. “Because if we’re going to die,” he says quietly, “we should do it softly.”

Then: the lift.

Minho picks her up—gently, firmly, reverently—and she allows it.

Allows it.

The calm before the storm.

He lowers her into the water.

And hell opens its eyes.

She does not scream. She screeches.

A blood-curdling, feral wail that hits octaves human ears were not built for.

In one fluid motion, she launches from Minho’s arms, scrambles up his shoulder, over the curtain rod, and disappears between the ajar bathroom door and the wall.

“WE LOST VISUAL,” Han yells, diving for his camera like a war correspondent.

“HOW IS SHE WET AND DRY AT THE SAME TIME,” Seungmin shouts, slipping on a towel and crashing into the doorframe.

Felix is on his knees, arms out. “It’s okay, baby. We’re sorry. We respect your boundaries. Please—”

“I SAW MY LIFE FLASH BEFORE MY EYES,” Chan wheezes from the hallway floor, clutching his ribs.

Water is everywhere—on the ceiling, in the walls, soaked into the very foundation of the house. Someone is crying. It might be Jeongin.

Minho stands in the center, drenched and bleeding from a scratch across his cheekbone, eyes distant.

“…She drew blood,” he says faintly.

“You drew her wrath,” Hyunjin corrects, holding an ice pack to his forearm.

“She did this with her eyes open,” Han says, holding up footage that looks like a scene from a horror film.

Jeongin is curled in a towel cocoon, whispering, “She looked at me and I felt… judged.”

Thirty minutes later, the bathroom is destroyed, the cat is mysteriously pristine, and no one knows how the towel rack got bent like that.

She is lounging again. Dry. Groomed. Purring.

Minho walks past her like a man just out of war.

“She let you think you were in control,” Chan murmurs.

“She let me live,” Minho replies.

“Was the bath worth it?” Seungmin asks.

Minho does not answer. He just opens a can of tuna, places it before her like a tithe to an ancient god, and leaves the room in silence.

Later, evening sweeps through the house. A sweet, domestic dream. One full of good intentions and garlic bread.

“We’ll make dinner,” Chan had said, sleeves rolled up and optimism shining in his eyes. “Something simple. Cozy. Homemade.”

Jeongin had nodded eagerly, already pulling out mixing bowls. “Like a family.”

“We are a family,” Felix had smiled, clutching a whisk like it meant something.

In the background, Minho had narrowed his eyes. “What are you all plotting?”

“Love,” Han replied, unconvincingly.

The house fills with delicious smells. Onion sizzling in olive oil. Dough rising on the counter. Tomato sauce simmering in a pot that Felix insists on stirring with one hand while cuddling a dish towel with the other.

“You stir it so lovingly,” Jeongin observes.

Felix beams. “You have to respect the sauce.”

Hyunjin floats in from the hallway, sleeves rolled, lip gloss shimmering, “I've come to taste.”

“You've come to steal bites,” Minho corrects, slapping his hand away from the tray of garlic bread.

“She’s watching us,” Jeongin whispers suddenly.

All heads turn.

Princess Murder Volcano sits atop the fridge like a gargoyle in judgment, pupils blown wide. Tail twitching. Back hunched.

Chan narrows his eyes. “She’s got the zoomies.”

“No,” Hyunjin murmurs. “She’s got plans.”

It happens all at once.

One moment, Felix is piping filling into ziti shells, Han is singing into a ladle, and Jeongin is kneading dough with flour on his nose.

The next, there is a thud, a growl, and a blur of white fury tearing across the countertop like a tiny demonic tornado.

“NO—” Chan lunges for the sauce pot. Too late. The spoon flips. The tomato sauce arcs in the air like a slow-motion crime.

“THE SAUCE—!” Felix cries out, reaching with both hands.

It lands on Jeongin’s hoodie.

She leaps again—onto the drying rack, which collapses under her wrath. Metal clatters. A bowl crashes to the floor and shatters like a scream.

“She’s climbing the spice rack!” Minho shouts.

“She’s in the spice rack,” Han corrects. “She’s wearing the cinnamon like war paint!”

The cat zips past, yowling—a streak of fur and chaos. She skids across the freshly mopped tiles, slams into the pantry door, then bounces back with renewed energy.

“I feel the adrenaline,” Hyunjin gasps, flattened against the fridge. “She’s faster than light. She’s broken the sound barrier. She’s a myth.”

“She’s going to knock over the—”

CRASH.

Flour. Everywhere. A puff of white explodes like someone’s summoned a baking ghost.

Felix vanishes inside the cloud.

“Are you alive?!” Jeongin coughs, blinking through flour tears.

A flour-covered hand emerges, waving weakly. “Tell the sauce… I loved it.”

They try to corner her. They try.

Minho leads the charge, wielding a laundry basket like a net. “Block the exits. Coordinate. Outthink her.”

“She has no thoughts,” Han yells. “She’s pure instinct!”

“She’s in the cupboard!” Jeongin shouts, peeking inside and immediately slamming it shut. “She stared into me. She knows my sins.”

Meanwhile, Chan stands silently in the center of the room, hands on hips, face unreadable.

“She has chosen violence,” he says simply. “And seasoning.”

Eventually, the chaos fades. The sauce is salvaged. The ziti somehow managed to survive.

Princess Murder Volcano re-emerges covered in flour, a single noodle stuck to her side, and promptly curls up in the sink to nap like nothing happened.

Jeongin leans against the counter, breathing hard. “She broke three things.”

“She broke my sense of peace,” Hyunjin murmurs.

“She broke the laws of physics,” says Han.

Felix just stares into space. “The filling. It… it flew.”

Minho tosses a towel onto the counter and sighs. “Next time, we order pizza.”

“She’d still attack the box,” Seungmin says from the doorway, sipping water like he has seen this all before.

Chan places the last clean dish on the rack, closes his eyes, and whispers, “I miss when we were in charge.”

There is a night time rotation schedule taped to the fridge. A real one. On paper. Color-coded.

“For our sanity,” Chan had declared, waving a highlighter like a sword. “For survival,” Seungmin added, darkly.

Because she does not sleep alone.

Oh no.

She selects her human—a new one each night, like royalty distributing favour—and curls up precisely where they had hoped to stretch their legs.

She is warm. She is heavy. She is a little loaf of tyranny.

Tonight, the duty falls to Han.

He approaches the bedroom like a man entering war.

Blanket: comfortable. Pillow: fluffed. Water: on the nightstand. Notebook: ready, just in case inspiration strikes.

He is calm. Composed. Hopeful.

“She’s already in there,” Felix warns from the hallway, whispering like it is cursed knowledge. “Claimed the center of the bed.”

Han squares his shoulders. “This is fine. I’m flexible.”

“She sleeps diagonally,” Jeongin says, walking past with the empty cat food dish. “No remorse.”

“Love requires sacrifice,” Han mutters, and enters.

The light is soft. The sheets are warm. She is… watching.

Perched on his pillow. Eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Tail curled, neat and smug.

Han smiles with gentle dread. “Hey, queen. Mind if I…?”

He lifts the blanket. Slips in.

She does not move.

The seconds tick by.

He turns slightly. She adjusts her weight—to press directly against his ribs.

“…Cool,” he exhales. “This is fine.”

12:38 a.m.

He receives a text.

you: hey!! just checking in! is my daughter being good? 🐱apparently you have the night shift💤

Han types back with one thumb beneath the blanket, moving as little as possible.

han: define good

han: i’m not allowed to roll over and she has full custody of the blanket

you: lmaoo she does that 🫣 just don’t breathe too loud

you: i can't lie to you she's not amazing to sleep with when you're a new person... something about unfamiliarity or wtvr

han: great to know💀

2:17 a.m.

Han is awoken to a pressure on his ribs. He slowly opens his eyes to see Princess Murder Volcano sat upright, directly on his body, her tail slapping lightly against stomach.

“Can I help you,” he whispers.

She steps forward, kneels gently… and places one paw on his mouth. Astonished, he slowly reaches for his phone and texts the group chat.

han: her FOOT is on my MOUTH.

felix: do not resist. accept her.

binnie: you must be on the left side. she likes the left side of the bed. your mistake.

seungmin: sleep is a concept. not a right.

channie: stay strong😫😫

hyunjin: do you have any idea how many tiny teeth she has. do not make her use them.

3:03 a.m.

Another message from you causes Han's phone to chime.

you: also she sometimes sleepwalks. so like if she gets up and stares at the wall… do not engage

He reads it and gazes to where Princess Murder Volcano is situated.

She is already sitting at the corner of the bed, staring into the corner of the room, her tail occasionally twitching.

Han tosses the blanket over his own face.

3:49 a.m.

Han dares to shift by one inch. Which subsequently causes the white furball to let out a low growl. A warning, if you will.

He texts the group chat once again.

han: i made eye contact. she knows i thought about moving. i am not safe

felix: if she headbutts you, congrats. that means she’s claimed your soul

seungmin: stop being dramatic. she’s like 4kg

han: 4kg of fury and emotional manipulation. she blinked and i felt shame for existing

5:10 a.m.

You receive a photo from Han. A close-up of his arm, pinned beneath her white little loaf-shaped body. Her head rests between his elbow and ribs. One eye open. Watching.

han: my arm is asleep but she is not. i have not moved in hours

You find yourself cooing at your screen. Your cat is typically not one to cuddle up so comfortably with strangers.

you: omg she likes you 🥹 this is such a good sign!!

Han does not respond. Instead, he stares at the ceiling, a man transformed. Broken. Blessed. He is vibrating with exhaustion, fear, and the slightest sense of pride.

“She picked me,” he says aloud to the dark room. “I was chosen.”

She promptly moves to sneeze on his neck and falls back to sleep.

7:00 a.m.

The sun rises, leaking golden warmth through the once dark room. The serene morning silence is interrupted by the bedroom door creaking open. Chan peeks inside.

“You alive?” he whispers.

Han stares at the ceiling with hollow eyes. “She took my soul and the entire blanket.”

“She does that,” Chan nods.

“I think she forgave me for existing,” Han mutters.

Princess Murder Volcano is curled on Han’s chest, peaceful as can be, one paw flopped over his heart like she owns it.

Maybe she does.

The rest of Day Three began with an unsettling silence. Not the cosy, purring kind that hinted at nap time, but a stretched, suspicious quiet that crept beneath doorways and settled behind bookshelves. No zoomies. No morning murder-screech. No judging loaf formation in the hallway. Just… stillness.

Felix, already on edge after surviving her 8 a.m. biscuit-serving ritual on his spine, narrowed his eyes as he passed the laundry room.

“Where is she?” he muttered, peering around the corner with all the suspicion of a nature documentary narrator about to witness a predator strike.

Then he saw her. Striding slowly across the hall, tail lowered, ears relaxed, but with a strange hesitance in her step—as though she was deep in feline contemplation. She paused just outside the laundry room door, glanced around as if checking for witnesses, and slinked inside. Felix followed at a careful distance, peeking around the doorframe with theatrical stealth.

She sat in the litter box. Still. Unmoving. For twenty long seconds.

And then—without scratching, burying, or doing anything at all—she stood, turned around, and walked away.

Felix's jaw dropped. “She did nothing.”

He pulled out his phone, thumb flying across the screen as he typed into the group chat.

felix: she entered the litter box room.

felix: stood there. did NOTHING.

felix: then LEFT.

felix: with PURPOSE.

The replies came quickly.

jeongin: maybe she just forgot what she was doing

minho: or maybe she's smarter than all of us and doing psychological warfare

But Felix had already descended into veterinary message boards. In the next ten minutes, he had read five conflicting articles, started a pros-and-cons list of emergency vet clinics within driving distance, and built himself a surveillance pillow fort near the hallway with granola bars and a water bottle, determined to document her every move.

She reappeared eventually, strolling past him like he was a coat rack. She leapt up onto the back of the couch, sneezed so hard her whiskers twitched, then dramatically flopped onto her side in a sunny patch like an overworked heiress.

Felix gasped audibly. “Oh my god, she fainted,” he breathed, frantically texting the group.

felix: SHE FELL

felix: I THINK SHE FAINTED

felix: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY

By the time Chan arrived in the room, Felix had both hands in his hair and a cold rag on his own forehead. “She’s sick. She didn’t go. She looked at the box and left.”

Chan blinked. “Felix, she’s literally sunbathing.”

“She sneezed, Chris. That is how it starts. I’ve been researching. She could be hiding a bladder infection. Or worse—emotional constipation.”

Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before unlocking his phone. “Alright. Time to bring in the expert.”

You were just finishing lunch when your phone rang—FaceTime from Chan. You accepted with a smile, instantly greeted by Felix’s frazzled face and the distant sound of your cat dramatically licking her paw.

“Is she dying?” he asked before even greeting you.

You blinked. “What? No? What’s going on?”

Felix spun the camera dramatically, showing your cat flopped halfway off the couch cushion, tail twitching like a lazy metronome. “She went into the litterbox. Did nothing. Came out. Sneezed. Collapsed. Collapsed.”

“She does that,” you laughed at their turmoil around a bite of your meal. “It’s her post-zoomie burnout pose. Very theatrical.”

Chan appeared on screen beside him, eyes squinting. “Would she… fake something like this?”

You nodded immediately. “Yes. Absolutely. One time she limped for a full afternoon because I didn’t give her a bite of my toasted sandwich. The limp vanished the second she saw me grabbing treats.”

Felix’s entire soul left his body in that moment. “She’s too powerful. I believed her.”

“I always do too, it's okay,” you said fondly, watching her slowly roll over and bite the couch cushion for no reason at all.

“She trusts you,” Chan offered Felix quietly after a moment, smiling as he looked down at her now curled into a lazy pretzel. “She doesn’t act like this around all of us.”

“She's showing Felix her weirdest sides,” you confirmed. “That’s like… soulmate trust. I think she's selected her favourite.”

Felix looked into the distance, visibly moved.

Later that afternoon, she returned to the litter box, did her business without fanfare, then strutted out like she had not just sent a grown man into an existential spiral. She leapt into Felix’s lap without warning, turned exactly one circle, and settled.

He did not move for the rest of the night.

“She forgave me,” he whispered, one hand resting on her back like she might disappear if he exhaled too quickly.

Seungmin glanced over, unimpressed. “She just stole your seat.”

“Same thing,” Felix sighed, blissful.

By the time the third and final day of the babysitting debacle had come to a close, all eight of your friends were waiting by the door before you even stepped inside.

The moment your car pulled up, the house shifted into high alert. Shoes half-on, limbs frozen mid-motion, the boys gathered like war survivors at the threshold of sanctuary, a desperate hush falling over the living room.

“She’s here,” Chan muttered, peering through the front blinds. “Everyone act normal.”

Hyunjin tossed the feather toy behind the couch like it was a weapon. Jeongin kicked a half-chewed slipper under the rug. Felix, wild-eyed and exhausted, stood silently clutching a lint roller in one hand and an empty treat bag in the other. Han wordlessly pointed at a scratch across his thigh, his expression haunted.

And then… the front door opened.

You stepped inside with a bright smile and a suitcase sat behind you, immediately greeted by a chorus of overlapping chaos.

“She is not normal,” Seungmin declared, pointing accusingly toward the armchair.

“She bullied Jeongin out of his beanbag,” Minho added flatly.

“She licked a power outlet,” Changbin said, somewhere between awe and concern.

“She gaslit me,” Felix whispered, eyes unfocused.

But before you could react, a blur of fur bolted across the hardwood floors—and suddenly she was there.

Your cat.

Your sweet, precious baby girl, appearing like a cherub descending from above. She meowed softly, nuzzling your shin with gentle affection before curling herself around your ankles like a silk ribbon.

You leaned down immediately, scooping her up into your arms, cooing with all the love in the world. “Hi, my love! Did you miss me? You were a good girl, weren’t you?”

Felix made a noise like he had just been stabbed. “GOOD GIRL?”

“She’s an agent of chaos,” Jeongin protested, watching as your cat blinked up at you with pure, wide-eyed innocence, a slow blink that screamed loyalty and purity and complete, unprovable deceit.

You looked between them all, frowning. “What are you talking about? She’s perfect.”

“She knocked over a plant on purpose,” Minho insisted. “Made eye contact and everything.”

“She scaled the bookshelf,” Chan added, crossing his arms. “Like, the entire thing. And sat on top like she owned it.”

“She stole my hoodie,” Han muttered. “Dragged it under the table. Growled when I tried to get it back.”

“She has mood swings,” Seungmin said, pointing again. “I saw her smack Hyunjin in the face. Twice. For breathing too loud.”

You blinked at them, brow creased in disbelief, while your cat snuggled into your chest in your embrace, already purring loud enough to be heard across the room.

“She’s literally purring,” you said gently. “You guys must’ve imagined it. She’s my baby.”

“She’s playing you,” Hyunjin whispered. “She’s been training for this moment for all three days.”

As if on cue, she looked toward the rest of the group from the safety of your arms, eyes glinting, tongue just slightly poking out in a silent mockery of their pain. Then she nestled her head into your shoulder, curling her fuzzy tail around your wrist with practiced sweetness.

You kissed her head. “Aw. She’s tired. You guys must’ve worn her out from playing so much.”

Eight boys stood in varying stages of psychological collapse. Felix actually sat down.

“She’s gaslighting you in real time,” Chan said quietly.

“I think I have to go lie down,” Jeongin whispered.

“Is this what defeat feels like?” Han asked no one.

You only smiled, oblivious, heading toward the hallway with her still in your arms. “C’mon, baby, let’s go to your room.”

Your cat peeked over your shoulder at the others as you left the room, her face calm, smug, and victorious.

Hyunjin pointed a trembling finger. “Did you see that? She winked. I SWEAR—”

The door shut gently behind you.

Silence hung heavy over those remaining in the room.

Then Felix collapsed backwards onto the couch. “She won.”

By the time night settled in, the house had mostly recovered. Mostly. Chan was nursing a scratch on his bicep with a glass of wine he insisted was “purely medicinal.” Seungmin was researching feline behavioural psychology. Felix had fallen asleep mid-rant while laying on your sofa, with his legs tossed carelessly over your lap.

You sat nestled on the couch beside beneath your shared blanket and a cup of tea, your troublemaking child curled in your lap—technically on Felix's shins—like she had never once wronged a soul. She blinked slowly, innocently, while you gently stroked her back.

The TV screen flashed on.

“Alright,” Han said as he stepped into the room like he was about to deliver a TED Talk. “Enough lies. Enough manipulation. The truth... needs to be witnessed.”

You turned toward him with a raised brow. “What is this?”

“A documentary,” Han said, remote in hand, pride in his stance. “Or rather... a document of war.”

The screen lit up with an opening title:

“Emergency Kitty Babysitter's Club: A House Held Hostage” Directed by Han Jisung. Edited by Han Jisung. Victims: All of Us.

It began with hidden cam footage—timestamped clips from every chaos moment of the week. Your cat skidding across the hardwood at 3 a.m. like a possessed banshee. Knocking over a cup of coffee with surgical precision while Minho gasped in the background. Standing on the kitchen counter, face inside the butter dish, as Felix whispered, “Not again…” from behind the camera.

Cue dramatic music. Zoom-ins. Slow-motion replays. Commentary snippets from the boys layered over the clips like it was some kind of crime series.

“She stared at me and shoved my AirPods off the table,” Chan’s voice narrated solemnly as the clip played. “She knew.”

“She stole a sausage right off my fork,” Jeongin said during a cutaway interview, looking dead inside.

It was ridiculous. It was over-the-top.

It was brilliant.

And yet, as the footage continued to play, you gently scratched behind her ears. “Princess... this isn’t you, is it?”

She yawned, long and slow, and nestled deeper into your lap—unbothered. Unmoved.

“She is literally in the footage,” Hyunjin said, exasperated. “She bit me in 4K.”

“She’s misunderstood,” you murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Han hit pause and turned to you, devastated. “You’re choosing her over us.”

“She’s soft,” you said, petting her side. “And pink. And perfect.”

"Pink doesn't even make sense!"

“She screamed at the mailman like he owed her money,” Changbin snapped.

But you just smiled down at her. “My little angel.”

The credits rolled. The final clip played without sound: your cat perched regally atop the fridge while Felix cried in the corner, holding a can of tuna she had rejected minutes earlier.

A masterpiece. A warning. A call for justice.

And completely ineffective.

Because by the time the lights came back on, you were already dozing off on the couch, her purring against your chest, the embodiment of peace and domestic bliss.

She opened one eye, glared at Han, and flicked her tail once like a queen dismissing her critics.

The boys would never recover.

But you? You were exactly where you belonged.

inspired by my beautiful sweet innocent daughter dior

everyone say hello

taglist (ask to be added here): @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo @m-325 @slut4junho

[nakylvr]

would anyone like dealer dani angst/fluff...

like i keep thinking about dani having a bad high from all of the stress with being in jail and having to start all over so ofc she's going to smoke weed to feel more relaxed but sadly it doesn't go well and having to help her through her high ☹️

my shayla ☹️ this is so ☹️☹️

— troubled waters

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, f!reader, dealer!dani au, language, drug usage (marijuana), arguments, happy ending yay

part of the substance series

in the nearly three years you've been dating daniela, there were only a few times where she would have a bad high. she would usually just get paranoid about random things which left you picking up the pieces to ensure that she doesn't do something stupid or maybe say the wrong thing.

then there was this time.

barely a month after everything went down, and things were starting to feel a little normal now. it was going to be a slow process, you knew that. it would take time for things to be fully back to normal. but this was the last thing you expected to happen.

you made dani lay low for the month, not doing any deals or anything related to the sort while everything dies down, and you could tell she wasn't happy about it. she tried to argue with you, but you gave her a look that told her how serious you were and she reluctantly agreed to it. which meant she was stuck in the house even more than she normally would be. you thought it would be fine considering she rarely leaves the place anyways. apparently you were wrong.

you texted dani that you were on your way home from work, asking if she needed anything while you were driving, and you received no response. while this wasn't exactly odd, it wasn't normal either. if she was asleep she would wake up because you're notifications sounds were different than everyone else's. you tried not to think too much on it, just driving home and unconsciously preparing for what you might walk into.

you should've been more prepared.

the second you walk through the front door you're met with the smell of smoke, which would be normal if it weren't for the burning smell along with it. you walk past the living room straight to the bedroom, opening the door and seeing her.

"dani," you say, but she doesn't look up. you can see the beer bottles along with half smoked blunts across the bedding, and you have to bite your tongue to keep you from instantly snapping at ruining the bedding. you take a step closer, then spotting the actually lit blunt burning into the sheet. "daniela!" you say more sternly, grabbing her hand and taking the blunt from her, quickly putting it out in the ashtray.

daniela finally looks at you now. and when you look into her eyes, your breath hitches. red and glossy, but filled with more emotion than she could explain.

"dani?" you let out softly.

"am i a bad person?" is the first words that leave her mouth.

"what?" you question.

"i'm not." she shakes her head. "i'm not a good person."

"dani, what are you talking about?" your hands reach for her face but she grabs them and moves them away, a pang of hurt going through you at the action.

"you don't deserve me," she mumbles. "i don't deserve you."

"daniela, what are you saying?" you ask, trying to remain calm and collected.

"why didn't you leave me in there?" her eyes meet yours, and you swear your heart stops for a second. "why?"

"because i love you," you immediately respond. "i wouldn't do that for just anybody."

"not megan?"

"dani." your voice lowers an octave, already seeing where she was going with this. "don't start that."

"start what?" daniela suddenly gets off the bed, standing in front of you. "start saying the shit i want to say?"

taking a deep breath, you manage to keep yourself from snapping. "you're drunk and probably higher than you should be. you don't know what you're say–"

"i know what i'm saying!" daniela interrupts you. "i know what i am saying!" you subconsciously flinch when her voice raises, but she doesn't seem to notice. "i don't deserve someone like you. you shouldn't be with me of all people. i-i'm not a good person. i-i don't do anything good. you should've left me. you should've stayed with sophia or someone else just not me."

your body tenses up when she mentions sophia. you know sober she knows better than to speak of her, but with the alcohol and weed mixed in her system she's spilling it all out. "you know sophia wasn't good to me, dani," you say to her. "you're a good person, daniela."

"what do i do for a living, yn?" she looks at you expectantly. "i sell people weed. that's my lame fuckass job! yo-you have a real job! you work in an office! you have people under you! you have people who respect you! you can call out and still get money that day! meanwhile i haven't done shit for a month and now we're barely making rent money!"

"i am doing my best and you know that," you tell her, pointing at her. "i worked my ass off to get this job. i'm working my ass off keeping our house while you lay low like i told you to. you can go back to it in a few weeks, that's what i told you. i didn't say you had to."

"obviously i have to!" daniela throws her hands around in the air. "if i don't listen to you god knows what will happen!"

"what is that supposed to mean?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"it means i'm not your fucking puppy like you treat megan," daniela tells you.

"excuse me?" you let out surprised.

"i mean–"

"think very carefully before you say your next words, daniela," you cut her off sternly, losing your patience by the second. "don't say something stupid."

"you think you can tell me everything. what i can do, what i can't do, what i shouldn't do, what i have to do. everything!" she exclaims. "i'm done listening to you!"

you take another deep breath, your fingers twitching showing you were close to snapping. "look, daniela. i never said you had to listen to me, you just did. you always have. do not put that on me when i have never once told you to do anything and made you do it. you–"

"just listen and do! i know!" daniela yells. "i do because i'm scared you'll leave if i don't!"

a moment of silence passes before she continues. "i fucked up so fucking bad that i ended up in jail and you ended up traumatized because i didn't even hear you out! i listen because i'm too stupid to figure out anything myself! i-i can't remember the last time i did my own taxes, or even the last time i double checked the income because you help me. you help me with everything and i appreciate that so much but fuck i feel so useless." her voice cracks and she balls her hands into fists, covering her eyes that were furiously tearing up. "i-i feel like i can't do anything anymore, or i fuck it up when i try. and i don't want to fuck up what i have with you. i love y-you so fucking much a-and i'm fucking terrified of screwing up again and you l-leave." the tears start rolling down her cheeks, her breaths coming out shallow and short. "i don't know wh-what i'd do without you."

your gaze softens when she starts rambling, and you uncross your arms and take a few steps towards her. hesitantly, you reach out and grab her arm, pulling her into your arms and holding her tightly. she tries to push you away, murmuring "let go" under her breath, but your arms tighten around her, keeping her close to you.

"it's okay, you're okay," you mumble as she cries into your chest. "everything's okay, i promise. nothing's going to happen. i'm not going anywhere." you press a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "i love you so much, i'm staying right here. i promise."

daniela's body trembles with the sobs wracking through her, her arms finally wrapping around you and allowing herself to feel vulnerable for once in her life. "i'm s-sorry for ev-everything."

"don't do that." you shake your head. "you don't have to apologize, i'm not mad. i promise." you kiss her head again. "everything is okay."

she still mumbles incoherent words that you can't understand past her cries, but you can get a gist of what she's saying through the sobs. you keep her close to you, feeling your shirt getting progressively more damp with her tears, but you didn't mind.

you were unsure how long it had been of her crying before she went quiet, her head still pressing against your chest trying to calm her breathing back down. her fingers were curled around the material of your shirt, loosening slightly as she finally calms down.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, running your hand through her hair.

"yeah," she mumbles with a nod, pulling her head away and looking at you. "i'm sorry. i didn't think–"

"it's okay," you interject, shaking your head. "everyone has bad highs once in a while, and you drinking doesn't help. but it's okay."

"i didn't mean it," her voice cracks, and you can see the tears building again at her realizing what she said. "i'm so sorry."

"hey, hey." you move your hands to cup her face, wiping away the few stray tears with your thumbs. "it's okay. i know you're–we're still going through everything, but we're together in this, okay? the two of us, like it's always been. it's still us. nothing else matters. i love you so much, and i don't want to lose you if this happens again. you are a good person, daniela. even if you don't think it, i do. i love you, and only you. forever."

daniela's bottom lip trembles as you speak, a choked sob escaping her mouth and she nods. "i love you too," she whispers. "i love you so much."

"i know." you smile softly at her. "but you're gonna have to pay for the new bedding, okay? i spent too much on this last one."

"okay." she nods again. "you'll help me pick it out, right?"

"of course," you respond. "i know you wouldn't pick a good color."

"rude," she laughs.

"you love me." your smile grows bigger.

"i do." she smiles back.

[rosewiltd]

rpc trends i have lived through: a compendium

this is by no means hate to trends ( "trends" in this case being something a large majority of people have participated in at some point, whether they're good or bad - not for me to judge ) bc i am a slave to the aesthetic as much as the next person. i've just been in the trenches, is all.

no promos, no formatting, no icons, no tagging system. we live in the wild west and if you can find someone to write with? godspeed.

small text and that's it for formatting. maybe a little italics for flavour. the beginnings of "omg you're so elitist for this" surfaces.

themes by manatopia ( if you were in the anime rpc ) or octomoosey ( if you favoured the rl fcs ).

simple one-word straightforward tagging system with no fancy text or symbols. ( ie. appearance, musings, closet, etc )

more complex tagging system, with symbols and quotes/lyrics using a generated font the tumblr tagging system can't actually read

one-panel simple promos with full resumes in the description ( ie. 10+ years experience, literate, etc )

2-panel simple promos

3 and 4-panel promos of varying complexity

the signerica font

text promos with icons

big, unedited gifs of varying sizes and colorings used interchangably

smaller gifs, but same as above

no icons

simple icons with simple one-line borders and whatever the fuck that checker texture was that everyone and their grandmother used

triggers? and you tag them???? wild. never heard of. we stumble blindly through content like god intended.

follower milestone/giveaways - essentially your speech at the oscars and here's a little incentive to keep following me. usually for large milestones like 100, 500, 1k, and 3k followers. if you had more than that, you had killed god.

photoshopped replies - as in, we wrote up replies into a graphic

fancy image dividers, usually something small and ornate and centered, the precursor to the dividers we use today.

container themes, with the containers getting progressively smaller. if you didn't use agirlingrey's themes, were you even an rper? quickly followed by container themes with pop-ups. look out. don't forget the floating orbs. or the little banners on the side that told you who the blog was for and the writer's name.

which reminds me, if you weren't using the spark/fire overlay on promos/graphics/etc, you were excommunicated from the rpc and sent to the dungeons.

magic anons. usually of the sexual variety. no, my muse will not be horny for 24 hours straight and they sure won't have an orgasm every time someone says their name, thank you very much. sometimes it was fun though. your muse as a neko? like, nya.

y'all i haven't even gotten past 2015 yet.... the rest is under the cut. feel free to add your own. im sure im forgetting so much.

burn blogs. enough said.

positivity blogs to counteract the burn blogs, but ultimately became a breeding ground for jealousy because the same three people were endlessly complimented. it's the thought that counts though!

memes/sentence starters, but they were made on your own rp blog and if it garnered 20k notes, there was nothing you could do to stop it. rip your activity feed. we learned. boy, did we learn.

prompt/aesthetic sideblogs.

missing e, the predecessor to xkit.

xkit. then new xkit. then xkit rewritten. missing e let us down, but we won't let this fucker die.

url trends im lumping together: latin urls, "of___", urlisms, random 'x's tacked on before and/or after the url or in place of a vowel. 'c's tacked in place of e's and o's. numbers in place of letters. changing your url just for holidays/seasons.

graphics that were either desaturated or so vibrant they were crispy

themes by eternalworks

themes by hyruleshop, isaworks, or other major creators.

the rise of callouts, for better or worse

the rise of purity culture, for better or worse

receipt/callout blogs

purple prose

extra af formatting ( no hate ), coloured text, spacing, etc.

elaborate graphics.

mains. affiliates. people you should be following. the successor of 'follow friday' and milestone 'thank you' announcements.

dni lists, for better or worse.

multimuse blogs

rp sideblogs

the current trend of ripping a canon from their og universe and re-writing them as an oc bc shut up that's why

probably a whole heck of a lot more i cannot remember. i've blocked out the trauma.

[promise-of-soup]

Hiiiii :3, I want to say first of all you WRITE BEAUTIFULLY WTF, I KISS YOUR HANDS FOR CREATING SOMETHING AMAZING. The HC's of Jiro???? THE OS????? Bruh, I love you, I fucking love you.

So, if you don't mind... Could you make out of the same Affection HC's with Yuri??? 🥺💕 Do it and I'll give you my soul and fidelity for the rest of my life, thankyou.

–🍄(or fungi)

AAAAAAAAA yooooo thank you so much 🍄anon! I'm so glad you liked it xD!! also can i just say; you sound like a fun guy (sorry i have chronic "needs to make a pun" syndrome)

Yuri is such a loser (affectionate), I love him so much :( so...

♫Yuri Isami Affection Headcanons♫

♬Synopsis: how does Yuri Isami show and receive affection? Is it true that he likes being called 'sweet'? find out here :3

♬Tags: Yuri Isami, kind of romantic but not inherently, MC with no description, cringe :3, fluff, a bit suggestive for one second, hehehe

♬Notes: I formatted this the same as the Jiro ones, lemme know if you want more characters :3 I'll eventually make like a masterlist thing if we have more than 4 lolol

*＊✿❀°˖✧✿✧˖°❀✿＊*

Yuri Isami has a bit of a reputation around campus... Sure, pretty much everyone knows he's really smart and that he's already published a bunch of academic papers before he even graduated, but he also gets bullied, a lot, for being kind of an oddball, so when it comes to affection, he is a bit cautious... So that no one thinks he's distracted or anything, not because he gets bullied.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ Showing ꕥ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

He has a modus operandi that is extremly obvious in canon with other things, so I assume it carries out to him showing affection... THIS MAN IS A TSUNDARE.

Alright, so, the very fact he has allowed you to be around him in the first place is a privilege that you should cherish and be thankful for, ignore the fact that he was the one who demanded your company.

When he wants to show affection he begins by finding a way to make you give him affection and then acts like he's doing you a massive favour that you literally begged him for.

In his head, he did that very confidently and slyly, and you can never pick up on it; he tricked you!

In reality he is a stuttering, blushing mess and asked for whatever it was while fidgeting with his hands and looking away -- you'd be evil not to agree ngl

He thinks he's confident with everything else when it comes to affection; in his head he's like "ha-ah! I had embraced MC with a great passion!" and in reality he is shaking and about to cry because the hug is comfortable and you're so close to him.

His favourite form of affection is letting you sit around him while he works, so long as you're not bothering him.

He will text you to come over urgently for a really important thing and then blank realizing he has nothing real to ask you to do, so he'll tell you to sit somewhere and then proceed to stare at you every once in a while as he works lolol, you can tell he's looking at you because he's suddenly sweating a bit and he always clears his throat.

Once more, in his own head he's like "MC has not noticed, in fact, MC is staring at me"

He LOVES holding hands, but is the kind to do it as a designated activity, ie. he would grab your hand, and then stand there holding it for a few minutes, growing more and more sweaty and red, and then he'll be like "Yes, that is sufficent" and let it go lmfao.

When he gets more comfortable and realize you're not going to bully him, his favourite physical affection will transition to hugging.

To him it's sudden, unplanned hugs, but to you, Yuri is approaching slowly with shaken arms and then very cautiously holds you against him for a bit.

He's really sweet, like really really sweet, but he's gone through a lot of mean name calling and dishonest interactions with people, so it takes him a while to feel safe.

Yuri isn't the best at figuring out his own signals, like he feels as though he wants to hug you, but doesn't realize it's because he's sad or anxious, so when you do hug, he suddenly crumbles :((

His highest form of affection is allowing you to see him cry.

Beyond the physical aspect of affection, which as I established, he's a bit slow with, Yuri shows most of his affection from a safe distance using his words.

"Your attire suits you well!" or "You're a competent helper!"

He has enough confidence to say things that are a bit impersonal, but when he gets more comfortable these become, "I enjoy your company" and "You look good" But those are stuttered while he looks away.

Hear me out; hand kisses. IT'S SAFE ENOUGH, so he can do it quite well. He'll grab your hand and slowly raise it to his face, giving you a gentle, barely noticeable kiss on your knuckles, and then look up at you hoping you get the hint and do something further.

That's his way to initiate more contact, he'll do it, and then when you don't move away or call him gross or anything awful like that (because of course you won't), he'll start kissing up your arm until he reaches your face and stops there for even more confirmation that you're alright with it. If you pull him in and kiss him on the lips he will fidget for a second and then kiss you back really intensely.

Guess what? he will still act like you're the one that seduced him into it, of course you did, asdjasskdafhadf

He wants to be affectionate, but it takes him a while to get there, so please be nice to him, but also be patient with the poor guy, he's trying.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ Receiving ꕥ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡

Because of what we've established, Yuri needs you to be more straight-forward with him. Trust he loves everything you do, but he will attempt to push you away at every single turn.

He loves when you show up for him:

Come to the lab and put a jacket over his shoulders, massage his shoulders a little bit, sit beside him quietly and let him put his head on your shoulder, caress his head a bit.

If he falls asleep you better let him sleep and not move, also you're lucky because that's him lowering his guard to the extreme.

He looks so cute when he sleeps, you just wanna kiss his forehead and play with his hair gently, he's literally so so cute.

TELL HIM WHEN HE WAKES UP.

Okay look, praise the f out of this guy.

"You're so sweet, Yuri." , "You've done so well today." , "You're so smart" , "So pretty" , "Good job"

Especially if you give him a quick peck on the head after you say it, or like wrap your hands around him. Depending on his mood that day he might be on the verge of tears, but he'll always mummble a little "okay..." or something and melt into you.

Yuri not only loves praise, he really needs it, so on days he feels better; as I said, he's a tsundare so he'll be like "of course I am" or "ah! your praise will get you nowhere.... good try though." but he's invented a new shade of red in the meantime and is avoiding your gaze.

LOVES when you text him that you miss him or ask when you can come visit, because it saves him time making up a reason, and also he can use it against you because you're the one who begged him to visit.

For proper kisses, you need to give him a clear, verbal warning, otherwise he freaks out and goes "wHAT ARE YOU DOING?" he likes being prepared for it so he can hype himself up mentally before it happens.

You know how I mentioned he'll kiss up your arm? yeah, the little hand kiss he does is how you know he wants more of you, if you cut to the chase and immediately pull him in for a kiss, he'll be soooo happy, because you really really need him, don't you?

Anything that boosts his ego, truly his ego is a front, he's not confident at all, so if you make him feel like he is confident, he will be really pleased.

Pepper. him. with. kisses. he will giggle at this by the way, and he will like it.

Hold his hand, smooth your fingers over his.

Will die if you call him "my", like, he is yours, but you don't have to mention it, it's too much for him to handle :(

"Aww my sweet baby" and he's jumping so high he shoots through the ceiling and then starts walking in circles until you grab him and hug him tightly.

Y'know what you should do? Tell him he's the best and that people who speak badly about him are all losers, make sure everyone sees you hold him, praise him behind his back (he can still hear you and you know this) when defending him in front of other people, deliberately make sure Jin knows you like Yuri, really rub it in his face too lmfao

Basically he is baby.

[shieldofiron]

Angry Again

Also on Ao3

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Breakup/Makeup, Happy ending don't worry, TW: Car collision, Hospital Visit

Billy's sure the phone is never going to ring.

After all, he's the one who walked out on Steve. He doesn't know what he's waiting for. Steve obviously deserves so much better. This is for the best. He knows it's the best thing for Steve, and he loves Steve more than anything.

Still, you'd think after six months he would be over watching the phone, but he can't help it. He's attached to it, in a way Heather says is definitely unhealthy.

It's just... he kept thinking if Steve would only call, angry. Show how much he cares about Billy, tell him to come back, or go fuck himself... if Steve just cared, Billy wouldn't be able to stop himself.

The only time he wasn't looking at it is when he's sleeping. So of course...

"Muhullo?" He mumbled into the phone, his four days old stubble brushing hard against the glass.

"Hello Mr. Hargrove, this is Amy at Hawkins General. I'm sorry to wake you. We're calling about a Steven A. Harrington. He's been admitted after a car collision and he appears to be stable.

""What?" Billy blinked. "Is he ok?"

"Can you confirm that you're the emergency contact for Steven Alessandro Harrington?"

"I... guess?" Billy mumbled, sitting up.

"Are you available to come to the hospital? He's stable but unconscious, and we have some questions about his medical history." 

Billy sucked in a breath, shame cratering out his stomach. "He has a history of concussions... two in high school and one from just after, he... is he ok?"

He heard typing in the background. "You should come soon, if possible."

Billy's heart was in his throat as he fumbled out a thank you and jumped out of bed, tossing on some pajama bottoms and a hoodie over his head. He grabs his wallet and then, at the last minute, a book. He might be waiting a while, he's not sure.

The drive passed in a blur, which is probably dangerous, given the circumstances. He wanted a cigarette or two or twenty but then he remembered he promised Steve he quit, and even though they’re not together… it’s still Steve.

He was sweating bullets as he came into the emergency room, but as he expected, he isn't allowed see Steve. He was still not family, and it was still late. He filled out Steve's paperwork and waited. He watched the tv playing reruns of King of Queens. He read, the words blurring together into nothing. He cried, when no one was there to see.

They wouldn't tell him anything, just that Steve is stable. Stable, stable, when Billy felt like a rickety table with the legs kicked out.

He had woken before he realized he was asleep, a hand on his shoulder gently squeezing.

"Mr. Hargrove?"

Billy squinted into the fluorescent light. There's a nurse and...

It was Steve, his hair curling over the edge of a neck brace. He looked a little haggard, but remarkably well, considering. He looked full and sweet and Steve, even if his hair is much longer than Billy'd ever seen it.

Billy looked down at his book. It was a copy Steve had given him for his birthday. A Separate Peace.

"He's free to go home, here's his care instructions," the nurse handed over a packet. "You'll want to monitor his concussion but he can sleep, he's allowed."

It felt like a dream. The nurse walked Steve through the discharge papers. Billy stood, useless except for his car. He didn't dare ask about Steve's right now.

And then they were sealed in the car, something antiseptic and sharp piercing the space like a lance. Steve's hand, his wrist loosely circled by a hospital bracelet, tightened on the door as if holding on for dear life, even though they weren't moving. Billy stuck his dead cell in the console. The only person he wanted to call was here.

"Are you ok?"

"I... yeah..." Steve said.

"Cuz they wouldn't tell me anything, just that you were stable."

He could hear Steve thinking, the gears turning to decide between bitchy and sincere.

Billy held his breath.

"A car hit me in the intersection. We were both fine, but I passed out in the ambulance. Concussion. No sign of swelling or anything." Steve said it dispassionately, and Billy's stomach sank. Bitchy at least meant Steve cared. He didn't sound like he cared at all.

Billy wanted to ask, why am I still your emergency contact? Why does this still hurt so much and when did it stop hurting for you? When will it stop?

"I'll just... take you home. Same place?" Billy forced the same dispassionate tone, sniffing slightly and squinting into the sun.

They'd been like this many times before. Not this exactly but. Steve playing passenger princess. Early morning rides to breakfast. Rides home after a night together.

"Same place." Steve said softly.

There's no music playing. Billy'd been too panicked last night and now he can't imagine anything more embarrassing than turning on top 40 right now.

They're almost in front of Steve's place way too soon. Way too soon, even though the ride was awkward as fuck. It was the last ride Billy would ever have, he was sure of it and he couldn't... didn't... want to let go yet.

Steve realized Billy's crying before Billy does. He urged Billy to pull over on the side of some random street and switched the gears into park.

"I thought.... I thought...." Billy's breath won't come. Nothing will come. No one will call, and if Steve hadn't left him as emergency contact, no one would have called and- "If you had died... if you had died, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve..."

Steve pulled him across the console and this was all wrong, Billy shouldn't be the one being comforted but somehow, he was.

"I was so glad it was you," Steve said, his arms tightening with every word. "I'm glad you came. Fuck, I was so scared."

"It's my fault, Steve..."

"It wasn't your fault, Billy."

"It was. I left you," Billy took a deep breath, trying to haul himself back from the edge. Shame burned around his edges, his father's voice in his head told him that he was acting like a pussy.

"Oh. That. Yeah, that was your fault." Steve's voice sounds more amused than really mad.

"I... I'm so sorry, Steve. I didn't.... I wanted to... I thought you'd be better off without me," Billy whispered brokenly, pulling back.

"I'm..." Steve took a deep breath. "I want to talk about that later. Now I want to go to my apartment with you and rest. Is that ok?"

"Are you gonna be mad later?"

"Yeah, probably."

Billy smiled, a weak warbly thing. "Good."

He follows Steve up the stairs to Steve's little apartment, their hands knit together. They read the instructions and Billy slowly helped Steve into bed.

"I hate being fucking sick." Steve muttered.

"I know you do."

"I hope you know this means we're together again. Boyfriends. The full nine yards."

Billy's breath caught in the back of his throat.

"I know."

"Good. Now get into bed so I stop feeling like... ugh... that weird old Charles Dickens lady who never left her bed."

"Miss Havisham?" Billy smirked, teasing. "I can get you a wedding dress."

Steve huffed, his eyes starting to drift closed. "After I ask you. And after you promise never to pull this 'better for you' bullshit again. Fuckin'... wedding dress."

He had dark circles, and his hair was far too long, shaggy the way he hated it. Billy brushed Steve's cheek.

"I love you."

"I know," Steve's voice was drifting, half sleepy. "This doesn't mean I'm not pissed."

"I know."

[spideyjimin]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @lo1k-diamonds for tagging me :)

Share those beautiful WIPs. If you don't have one, share the idea that you're working on or the art.

bon, it's not wednesday, but since i've been working on break my heart, i wanted to post a little teaser 👀 honestly get ready for this one, i'm getting wild 🤭 soo bare in mind that this might change since i'm working on it ✨

Break my heart 💔

Tonight, everything is different. You noticed it the second you stepped out of your room. You noticed it when his eyes devoured you back at your shared apartment. You noticed it when you did the same. Tonight, there’s an unexplained longing between you. You ignore where this comes from, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to be your night companion.  

“Maybe I just needed a reason to stay.”

His eyes say more than words ever could. They are locked on yours like you’re the only thing that exists. He wants you. Desperately. He craves you with his entire soul. And he doesn’t mind as well if you’re his night companion this evening.

And from the way your pulse jumps, the way you look at him, he knows. He knows that you want this too. His hand shifts, his fingers grazing your waist. A light touch, but enough to send heat surging through you. Your breath catches. And he notices. Of course he does.

Then, that slow and wicked smirk of his forms. The one that screams trouble. The one he gives to his flirts. The one that usually makes you laugh because it was never meant for you. But now, it doesn’t make you laugh. It makes you weak. It makes you an easy prey for him.

“And what’s that reason?” he murmurs, leaning in, voice thick with heat and tease. “Is it the suit?” he pauses. “I noticed the way you looked at me at home.”

You slowly slide a finger along the lapel of his jacket. You’re trying to hide the fact that this man right here is making it difficult for you to remain composed. How can you resist him? Honestly, now you understand why there isn’t a single woman who can resist his charms. You used to make fun of them, but now, you understand them.

“Should I remind you of the way you looked at me?” your voice is also filled with heat and tease.

He leans in. Closer. His lips hover just beside your cheek, near your ear, but he doesn’t touch.

“I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you,” he confesses.

Your fingers move down, tracing now invisible circles on his chest while your bodies keep moving at the music’s rhythm.

“Such cheesy words,” you reply, a smirk arising on your face. “That’s what I deliver to the men I want in between my legs.”

Jungkook’s lips curl into a mischievous smile, his eyes darkening even more.

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

This makes you go still. Although it’s written all over his face that it’s what he wants, hearing it out loud makes it real. And if this is real, it means your friendship will never be the same anymore. It means that you’ve ruined the friendship. There won’t be any coming back after this night. You won’t even be able to blame it on the alcohol. You barely drank anything.

The music continues around you, bodies moving on every side, but your world has narrowed down to him. His breath. His stare. The way his hand flexes, like he’s seconds from pulling you in. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate a second when the next words leave his lips.

“Say the word,” he breathes. “And I’m yours tonight.”

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

🌟Profile Pic Art Contest🌟

Hello, and welcome!! Today is May 6th, the first day of the yearly PFP Art Contest, and also my 21st birthday!! To celebrate, I'm going to be hoisting an art contest with prizes to the winners!!

What is the PFP Art Contest?

The Profile Pic Art Contest, or the PFP Contest is an event where all you wonderful TMNT artists get the chance to draw me a new profile pic, and win prizes!! The winning art piece will be my new PFP for the full year until the next PFP Contest!

The PFP Contest will run from May 6th, through June 6th, and on June 7th, I'll announce the winner!!

How does this work, and how to participate?

A week ago, I had you all vote in a poll, deciding which turtle you'd all prefer. And this years winner is Donatello!!

From the start of the contest, to the end, you'll post your art, and tag me so I can reblog it, kind of like how a DTIYS works.

As this year's turtle is Donatello, that's who you'll all be drawing. The theme for this contest is reading, (as this blog is a fanfic blog) meaning, the turtle you choose to draw, from any of the three iterations (Rottmnt, TMNT 2012, & Mutant Mayhem/Tottmnt) MUST be reading!!!!

To participate, you don't need to follow me, or know me, or even have ever interacted with my blog. You simply have to follow the rules, draw a turtle reading, and tag me!! Everyone is welcome, and anyone can win!!

🌟The Prizes for the Winners!!🌟

1st Place: Your artwork will be used as my new PFP for the rest of the year (with credit of course ^^). You get one free beta read reserved for one chapter of a TMNT fanfiction you're writing!! If you are unsure what a beta read is, please check this post for details. Lastly, you get one fic of your choice added to the Fanfic List Masterpost ahead of all the fics in my inbox!!

2nd Place: You get one free proof read reserved for one chapter of a TMNT fanfiction you're writing!! If you are unsure what a proof read is, please check this post for details. Lastly, you get one fic of your choice added to the Fanfic List Masterpost ahead of all the fics in my inbox!!

3rd Place: You get one fic of your choice added to the Fanfic List Masterpost ahead of all the fics in my inbox!!

Please note, if you aren't a writer, and you have no chapters to use your free beta/proof reads on, you can gift this to your favorite author!!

All artists who participated will have their artwork featured in a special thanks post, with full credit, at the end of the event!!

Rules, and further details under the cut ^^

What are the rules?

You can only draw Donatello for this years contest. Doesn't matter the iteration (Rottmnt, TMNT 2012, or Mutant Mayhem/Tottmnt). And he must be drawn reading!! Doesn't matter what; a comic, a book, on the phone, but he HAS to be reading. This is a fanfic blog after all!!

2. Artwork MUST be square!! Otherwise I can't use it!! Size doesn't matter as much, as tumblr seems to let me use any image I'd like. But it has to be square.

3. Has to be a canon iteration turtle. No fan iterations. As much as I'd love that, lets keep it to only canon to keep it fair. Future turtles, and design headcanons are allowed though!!

4. You may submit up to three pieces!! One per iteration!

5. No NSFW, no suggestive art, and no T-cest!!

6. No AI art, EVER. That will get you banned from not just the contest, but from my blog. We love and respect hardworking artists here!! <3

7. No mean or rude behavior to other artists <3

8. Art can be from any dynamic, any color palette, any setting. Have fun, and really explore your creative options!!

9. No romantic pieces please.

What I'm looking for in art

Fully finished pieces, i.e. fully rendered, or fully colored in.

Single turtle, not multiples.

Any media of art!! Traditional, digital, I love it all! <3

Any age of turtle. Tots, teens, future turtles, they're all welcome!

Any lighting, or setting. Have fun!!

Creativity!!

Backgrounds are encouraged!! Doesn't matter the type ^^

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Everyone is encouraged to participate!! And I mean, EVERYONE!! So go ahead, share, reblog, and tag friends!!

If any of you have questions, please ask them down below in the comments so if any others are curious and/or have the same questions, they'll be able to see the answers.

For reference, this is my current PFP ^^

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I look forwards to seeing what kinds of beautiful and stunning art you all create!! <3<3<3

[lostlikesaebyeok]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂𝒆-𝒃𝒚𝒆𝒐𝒌 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

★彡 𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒍!𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂𝒆-𝒃𝒚𝒆𝒐𝒌 𝒙 𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒍!𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒕. 𝟑 彡★

♡ headcanons ♡

“you’re gonna make me fight you in front of the fans again.”

[ idol au | wlw | girlfriends on live | on tour | teasing x flustered dynamic | drama | public sapphic panic ]

♡ on live together:

☆ you always invite sae-byeok to your lives unannounced. sometimes you drag her in by the sleeve mid-sentence and she’s like “what the hell i’m not even fully dressed–” but she’s already seated and fans are losing it.

☆ “i told you i didn’t want to go live.”

“okay but they missed your face. and mine, i’m a woman of the people.”

“you’re a brat.”

☆ you feed her snacks and hold the mic for her while she talks. sometimes you dab her mouth with a tissue and she gets so shy she turns her head away and covers her face with a sleeve.

☆ the live chat: GET MARRIED ALREADY

sae-byeok: “guys. please.”

you: “she’s mine already, don't worry.”

☆ one time she wears your hoodie and the chat explodes and she immediately starts panicking.

“this isn’t hers! i just have a–uh–one like it.”

you offscreen: “it literally has my name on the tag.”

☆ you rest your chin on her shoulder during lives. the whole time. you’re just draped on her like a cat. she acts annoyed but doesn’t move an inch.

♡ on world tour together:

☆ you tease her constantly. like full blown teasing. poking her sides during interviews, throwing your arm around her waist in backstage vids, pulling her on your lap just to watch her bite her lip.

☆ “stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like you wanna kiss me in front of 20,000 people.”

“…so not here?”

☆ she once tried to get through a serious fan Q&A but you kept tracing hearts on her thigh under the table and she had to stop mid-answer like

“can–can you not?? give me a second, i’m gonna fight her.”

☆ fans caught you both in the hotel lobby once, and you waved like nothing happened. while sae-byeok was trying to wrestle her hoodie back from you.

♡ moments you'd 100% have on tour:

☆ on-stage: you grab sae’s hand during a performance and kiss the back of it dramatically. she goes red immediately and yanks it back with a glare.

“i’m gonna trip on stage because of you.”

“then fall into my arms, baby.”

☆ interviews:

interviewer: “describe your groupmates in one word.”

sae-byeok: “y/n? energetic.”

you: “sae-byeok? sexy.”

she starts stammering and blushing. the host is dying. so is she.

☆ backstage dressing room footage:

you: (laying in her lap) “your thighs are the best seat in the house.”

sae-byeok: “we are being filmed–”

you: “you’re welcome, everyone.”

☆ after concerts: you two are always the last to leave the stage. she’s trying to bow, you’re blowing kisses. she tries to walk off, you pull her back for a selfie. she pretends to hate it. she actually sets the photo as her lock screen.

♡ random:

☆ she once told a fan “i’m not blushing, i’m just hot from dancing” as you peeked out from behind her and kissed her ear.

she almost dropped the mic.

☆ you gave her a necklace on tour with a little “s” on it and said “it stands for sexy when you're flustered.” she wears it under her stage outfits every show.

☆ she acts like you drive her crazy, but she’s the one who waits up every night to make sure you get back to the hotel okay. who runs your bath after long days. who buys your favourite snacks and hides them in your backpack.

☆ and even when she’s grumbling and red-faced and hiding behind her hands, she still pulls you in by the waist when she thinks no one’s watching.

but, everyone’s watching.

and they’re rooting for you.

thank u for reading, angel ♡

(o＾・＾o) likes = kissing flustered sae-byeok

[sereg0re]

MY GO-TO'S FOR EDITING.

I’ve decided to put together a masterlist of the resources I use, since I get asked about them pretty often. If you're somebody who can’t commission resource makers or you’re just wanting to get into editing or creating commissions yourself, I hope this helps.

pinterest. IMPORTANT NOTICE IF YOU UTILIZE THIS: avoid usings people's art; if you can get permission from an artist to use a piece, that's another discussion. Be warned there may also be ai mixed in, which I've personally got a good eye for spotting; i prefer to go by images i've seen long before the ai craze, since i've been on there for a while. your best bet is looking through miscellenous character boards. From there, you can choose images to blend or even make pngs out of, to give unique flare to your edits.

remove.bg + photokit. if you're looking to save time or don't have a way to cutout images manually ( i sometimes like to use my art tablet if I want to be really precise ), these are good ways to make pngs out of images you find, as opposed to png sites. i prefer this because ive caught adware on png sites before, plus there's also a lot of ai on those as well.

for screencaps, i use google images or youtube, since the quality is higher than anything on pinterest...though, psds are what normally cover up quality issues, from what i've learned. then again, it might depend on the psd. IMPORTANT NOTE IF YOU UTILIZE THIS: If you’re using google Images, searching for actual screencaps might lead you to blogs or websites dedicated to capping—many of which ask for credit if you use their content. Also, avoid reposting people's edits or gifs, since those will inevitably show up when searching faceclaim names and similar tags. on the off chance you find free-to-use faceclaim content, be sure to credit if/when asked !

photopea. it's a great alternative for those of us who can't be assed to learn adope, nor can afford it .

I know it doesn't look like much, but this is genuinely my go-to formula. I don't think there's any need for anything over the top. That said, if you guys have better alternatives or anything to add, feel free—this is just based on my own experience.

ADDITIONAL EDITING TIPS: If you find yourself stumped creatively or unsure how to approach using these, I’d recommend breaking down the character or setting you’re working with in terms of aesthetic. What are some keywords or imagery you associate with that muse ? Take a character like h/arry p/otter, for example—focus on individual visuals, important symbols, and signature colors. For him, I’d think of round glasses, lightning bolts, owls, candles, spell books, brooms, etc. Then, take each of those elements and explore them individually. I’d maybe start by looking up “owls” on Pinterest; from there, I might find images that can be turned into pngs. Repeat that process with every vibe or detail that comes to mind. You don’t have to limit yourself to making pngs either—feel free to experiment by blending different images together and building a look from there.

ADDITIONAL UPDATES/RECOMMENDATIONS:

Screencapped ( * will need an account )

VLC Media Player ( * good for screencaps / things you've downloaded from youtube )

[imaginariumwanderer]

Hello!

Under a post about fanfiction for Sdvn you mentioned a blind man's bluff au from biscuitlaybrinth maybe? and echo paradox. I, for the love of me can not find any mention of it on ao3, is it on fanfiction.net or wattpad? Even googling keywords provide nothing. I am on my hands and knees begging for a link. Some sort of direction, Please.

I also want to apologize for having such an ask on your inbox. I wanted to add something like, "I've seen your art around and enjoy seeing the silly cookies and am so happy to see you in the tags giving interesting recommendations!" But it felt half-assed as if I'm trying to sweeten a deal or something but I don't wanna be rude walking in demanding for things. |T^T)

I at least hope you're having a good day and enjoying the recent update (;-;)

HELLOOOO NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE AT ALL I'M ALWAYS GLAD TO SPREAD THE GOSPEL TO WIDER FANS! Ehem, yes unfortunately biscuit's works aren't located in ao3 or anywhere on the internet but HERE! That's right folks RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR!

Anyways here's their tumblr @thebiscuitlabryinth

Here's our holy bible- I mean Echo Paradox: https://www.tumblr.com/thebiscuitlabryinth/tagged/echo%20paradox%20au

Here's biscuit's Blind Man's Bluff AU: https://www.tumblr.com/thebiscuitlabryinth/tagged/blind%20man's%20bluff%20au

For a short history lesson, Echo Paradox was one of the first shadowvanilla fanfic ever to be written, the first part of the series was posted way back in 28th of February 2024. To be fair, I know us old shadvani fans have hyped this fanfic to hell n back calling it the shadvani bible and such. It's mind-blowing (for me) and many others, it's one of the reason that propelled me into shipping shadowvanilla last year, but it might just be ok or average to you. Still, there's something to say about how the author managed to capture their dynamic so well without the help of ep 7-8 which, of course, didn't exist back then. So much to say in fact I once wrote a mini essay about the AU that's still sitting in my files today. Thebiscuitlabryinth is and will forever be my favorite shadvani author EVER. I strongly recommend you take a look through their library and check out their various other shadvani oneshot too♥ To close off, here's some of my favorite excerpts from the Echo Paradox AU. Which, yeah I saved on my computers, I just love the fic a lot.... Please skip if you don't want any spoilers: "[Pure Vanilla] thinks of sharp, painted eyes and countless conversations on studies, research, literature, philosophy. He thinks of claustrophobic madness and the endless hunger of the scholar and pity, pity, pity."

-

" "Dark Moon Magic is forbidden too, so there aren't many detailed sources left on it. I want to know more about its founding." I want to know more about you." -

"In the dim, still moment that follows, stretching long and precious, Pure Vanilla doesn't see the Beast of Deceit before him. He doesn't even see the brilliant scholar, the Virtue of Knowledge, not quite. What he sees is a Cookie, whole and complex and alive and beautiful, and his heart pangs, softly." -

Have a good day, and yes I am enjoying the latest update :> I'm waiting for eternal sugar to come home haha

[gotaksboyfie]

hiiiiiiii I absolutely love love your ficssss

Theres rarely any whc writers and I got so excitedddd when I saw ur acc

can I request Baku x male or gn reader where reader gets into a fight if u do end up doing this please don't make the reader all vulnerable and a softie that can't fight 😭

patched up

gif creds: @slytherinshua

pairing baku x male reader

summary on the way to baku's house, you're stopped by some ganghak students and get into a fight. fortunately, baku steps in just in time

word count 1.4k

warnings/tags violence, friends to lovers

as you type baku's address into google maps, you groan internally when you realize that the path leads almost directly into a street some ganghak high kids have claimed for yourself. the one day you wear your uniform, seriously?

there were no other ways to get to baku's house, so you brace yourself anyways. silently praying for that area to be empty, you keep your head slightly down to make yourself less noticeable.

"no fucking way, is that some eunjang bastard?" a gruff voice echoes through the street. you look over and see 2 boys smoking under a street lamp looking straight at you.

you tear your eyes away and walk faster, hoping to lose their interest. unfortunately, the opposite happens.

"hey, don't ignore us dumbass!" well fuck, now they sound annoyed. it's fine, you think to yourself, you'll just keep walking. you'll be out of their sight soon.

"this fucking- go get him," you hear one of them say.

you hear footsteps running behind you, and you turn around in time to see the guy started to make his way towards you. you slightly panic, opting to weave your way through the alleys. you can hear them running after you. but it seems like your luck has ran out when you come face to face with a dead end.

you turn around to see the same guys block the entrance of the alleyway. you shift on your feet into a subtle fighting stance, preparing for them.

"well well well, who do we have here?" one of then grins, "you didn't think we'd let you leave, right?"

"look, can we just chill out? i don't want to fight," you try reasoning with them even though you know it's futile.

one of them starts approaching you and you step forward and land a right hook straight onto his face. he sputters and stumbles, charging back at you with his torso wide open.

you duck to avoid his incoming punch and hit him in his side. he manages to punch you off balance, and you're sent sprawling on the floor.

out the corner of your eye, you notice someone else closing in on you. that's just unfair. a 2v1? really? you send a rough hit with your palm that lands directly on the first guy's chin, knocking him out for hopefully a long time.

that's one guy down, another one left. woohoo? there's no time for you to catch your breath though, because your left shoulder erupts in pain as he lands a nasty shot on it. you groan in pain and swing back at him. hitting his nose, you hear a resounding crack! and he stumbles back in pain.

"you fucking bitch!" he roars, and you're swept off your feet from a powerful punch to your stomach. that really fucking hurt. ow. you can't even gasp in pain before someone grabs you by your hair, pulling you up. it's the one that was knocked out, how'd he get up so quickly?

"hey listen up, you fucked with the wrong people, you hear me?" he's practically breathing in your face with how close his face is to yours. "hope you enjoy this bea-" you punch his jaw before he can finish his sentence, making him let you go in shock.

his friend unfortunately lands a punch straight to your cheek, and you do the same in response. you're getting tired, and all you want to do is go see baku.

you soon realize that you need to get out of there fast as fatigue starts to hit you. another punch leaves your nose bleeding, and you barely dodge another. four arms swinging at you and they can land a shot only half the time, how bad can their aim be?

still, you don't want to keep fighting. landing a couple punches (and kicks), you distance yourself far enough to catch a breather.

you look around and realize that the exit of the alleyway is open. you try to run out only to run into a firm chest. you stumble back with an oomph before a warm hand pulls you back into the same chest. you glance up tiredly and see- baku???

"baku? what are you doing here?" you asked, glancing back at the ganghak students.

"you were late, and i heard some noise over here," baku replies. baku's hand is still on your back, holding you firmly against his cheet. flustered, you glance back up at baku who's busy looking at the other guys.

"stay here alright?" baku gently guides you to sit down at the entrance while he goes in, probably preparing to fight. still dazed, you watch as he effortlessly finishes up the job.

it was honestly pretty hot seeing baku beat them up. the display of strength made you fall harder for him.

"are you okay?" baku asks, offering a hand to help you up. you nod and wince at the soreness of your face, but you take it anyway. and wow. oh wow. you're holding baku's hand and he's not letting go. oh my god he's holding your hand, you freak out in your head.

baku starts walking you towards his house, his hand still in yours. his hands are warm, and you step closer to him.

"what happened?" baku questions, looking at you as he analyzes your injuries.

"i was on my way after cram school, and just ran into them. i don't know what their problem was, but i'm fine now," you ramble. you can feel baku's eyes on you and it brings a slight flush to your cheeks.

baku lets out a sigh, "those ganghak bastards don't know when to stop. i'm just glad you're okay. i have some bandaids at home, so i can patch you up," his voice picks up a lighter tone at the end, going back to his regular upbeat self.

"thanks baku, sorry for dragging you into this". you look down at your intertwined hands, and celebrate mentally.

"if it's for you, i'd do it anytime." baku's words makes your heart flutter. does he know what he's implying? you feel baku come to a stop and he opens the door to his house.

you look around his house as baku leads you to sit on the couch while he grabs some supplies. your cheek aches and it's definitely bruised. your nose stopped bleeding after you found baku but it's still sore.

leaning your head back, you make eye contact with baku who's standing directly above you. "what the fuck-" you jolt up in surprise at seeing him so suddenly, "warn a guy, at least baku" you complain.

"my bad" baku smiles widely and pulls out a small towel. "here, let me clean you up."

a comfortable silence envelops the room as baku sits next to you, lightly wiping away the blood from your face. his other hand is cupping your face and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was about to kiss you.

balu puts away the towel, and finishes with a bandage for your cheek. as he applies the bandage, your eyes quickly flit between baku's eyes and his lips, catching his attention.

"my eyes are up here," baku teases, licking his lips unconsciously.

"s.. sorry," you stutter. the embarrassment of getting caught must refelct on your face because on top of feeling your cheeks heat up, baku suddenly has a shit eating grin.

baku clears his throat, "y'know.. if you wanna kiss me so bad you should just go for it. it's the least i deserve for this, right?"

getting a boost of confidence, you lean forward and softly kiss him. baku stills for a second before reciprocating, pulling you closer to him. you break the kiss to catch your breath, and look at baku shyly.

baku cups your face again and leans in for another kiss. he bites at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss. this time baku breaks the kiss. slightly panting, you starts to speak.

"baku, i've liked you for.. a while now-," and baku cuts you off with a small peck. he smiles at you and laughs softly.

"i know, reader-ah. you're not exactly subtle. but it's okay, because i like you too."

the confession makes you gasp, and you can't hold back your smile. who would've thought some ganghak kids would lead to this?

"not to ruin the mood, but i could really go for some fried chicken right now." baku mutters and as if on cue, his stomach grumbles. "see?"

"would that count as our first date?"

"wait i can't have our first date go like this! i was supposed to wine and dine you," baku slightly panics and you shut him up with another peck on his cheek.

"it's fine baku, we can always do that another time. let's go get some food, i'm hungry too."

fin

a/n sorry about the lackluster ending, i seriously don't know how to end fics 💔 i hope this lived up to your expectations 🙇 req are open!