#but im looking forward to writing another

[jellicatty]

♯2 ┆ ❝ GROUPIE LOVE ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

Their tolerance is quickly crumbling under the weight of your relentless, wicked charm. It’s only a matter of time before their lust spills over. And unfortunately for you, the dam finally breaks during your work shift.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. no curses au. flirty reader. jealous! nanami. really reaaaally mean higu. THREESOME. public sex. no protection. creampie (yipee). shoko present here. 6k words (it's an easy read trust).

╰┈➤ note : MY HANDS ARE LITERALLY SWEATING PLEASEEE okay wait disclaimer im not a smut writer but i did enjoy writing it hueheu OKAY ENJOY READING MY BFFS ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ (hoping i don't disappoint) (a bit scared).

The harsh rings of the telephone cuts right through Nanami's ears, yet his face remained unresponsive at the sound. It was normal to be surrounded by phone calls, mugs of black coffee, and especially the snores of his coworkers.

A normal day.

Well, not so normal anymore.

From the day he and Higuruma had their eyes on you, life has been something that Nanami looked forward to. It was still riddled by his tiring occupation, but his bi-weekly golf meets with his friend turned his dull life upside down. He might be exaggerating, but that's what a good pussy/ a pretty girl does to him.

"Hey... Why are you looking so dashing all of a sudden, Kento?" His colleague asked from his work cubicle, voice groggy from being woken by his five minute alarm. Although not intending to be rude, Nanami's focus stayed fixed on his screen, typing away whatever he needed to.

"You don't have a girl yet, right?" His co-worker leaned closer to his face, eyes suspecting the blond's hyper-focused gaze. "Right..?"

With a sigh, Nanami answers, "No, I've been playing golf lately." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the truth either.

"No offense, but Golf? Out of all sports?" Nanami's politeness cracks for a moment, glaring at his colleague at his sudden comment.

"Please, excuse me—"

Ding!

Their eyes lands on Nanami's laptop where the notification sound came from. It wasn't an ad from a random online website or an alarming message, but rather, an anonymous text from Higuruma.

"Higuruma? Is that your girl—"

"Please, excuse me, I need to finish my work." Before his coworker could overstep his boundaries, Nanami quickly cuts them off.

A message from Higuruma at this hour was one of the things he least expected. Not only was he occupied with his work, the two actually never texted each other unless needing assistance and their hangouts. Nanami stared at the screen for a moment, then clicked the notification bar.

“Do you have a moment?” It read. Nanami hesitates to respond when Higuruma’s intention still isn’t clear to him yet. Another message arrives, this time fully capturing his attention.

“It’s about her.”

Afternoon had already approached, yet your body laid on your silk sheets. Realization has not completely settled and a nagging feeling inside you hammered. You were going on a date with a man you met from work. And you might fuck him tonight.

As the seconds pass by, exhilaration pumped in your veins. Weeks were gone with the wind since you had been spontaneously invited by Higuruma. Ever since then, your nights have been spent by scrolling through online stores for dresses— one that's sure to weaken his knees. dresses that can be easily slipped off too

On the other hand, your reality was a nightmare for someone else. And that someone was none other than Ieiri Shoko, your best friend, and fellow beverage cart attendant. If she was ever in your situation, she would have ran to the nearest highway and voluntarily approached a ten wheeler truck— her words, not yours.

"Were you even listening?" Shoko raised her voice, still overshadowed by the loud music from your laptop.

"Can't hear you!" Cautiously, you rolled your hair around the gadget and released it. Roll. Press. Release. Your routine continued while music blasted from your bedazzled speakers. "Or Nah" by The Weeknd and other artists, a filthy song for a filthy woman— or at least, that's what Shoko said.

"Please stop the music, I'm sick of hearing women moaning and bed squeaking every damn minute,"

"Fine, fine!" With a giggle, you lowered the volume, finally lending an ear to Shoko's daily rant. "What were you saying again?"

Shoko rolled her eyes, "Whatever, I said you look fucking delicious" her deadpan evident in her tone, "Oh, I'm flattered!" Roll. Press. Release. And finally, your hair was done and curled to perfection. Your focus shifted to your makeup bags, another battlefield to enter. But this war was a familiar one, and after a short time, your makeup was done to your liking.

While Shoko released her frustrations through rambling, you busied yourself with your reflection, which you had been staring at for a minute now. The sun had set and the familiar orange hues were streaming from your windows when you had finished. Anticipation crept, and once again, you find yourself daydreaming how the next moments will be. You’re planning on ending the night without a surprise, and you're certain you won’t be leaving without a catch too. Will he confess his desires through discrete touches? Does his plan include you being brought to his doorstep? Whatever it is, you were in on it. And for it to happen, you wore a good fucking dress to impress Higuruma.

You walked back to your desk and gave Shoko a clear view of your stunning choice of clothing. The sensual yet formal style of your dress heightened your charm even more. One gaze and a man will wonder what lies beneath it. Hopefully, that man will be Higuruma tonight. And hopefully, he takes notice of your daring move of choosing a backless dress. Back exposed and bare, only welcoming his warm touch.

In a trance, Shoko’s lips shut when you asked her, "So, what's the vibe?"

"Uh, hot vibe?"

"No, silly! Like, is it giving a dinner date with your ex-husband and showing up in a revenge dress to seduce him back? Or, is it giving a first date night with the side chick?"

Her mind stalled for a moment, before replying, "Yeah"

“That was very helpful!” Shoko rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. Your attention was drawn to your phone where a loud ding erupted from. Higuruma’s notification pops, and instantly you were zooming around your room for your final touches. You squealed, earning another annoyed sigh from your friend.

“Toodles, Ieri!” And with that, you closed your gadgets shut, sprayed perfume once more and slipped on your heels. One last look at your reflection, and you were good to go. Each step you took was accompanied by the hammering beats of your heart. Before you open your door, you peeked into its peeping hole. Outside, Higuruma idled by your porch, examining your house while his hands clutched a bouquet. You quietly gasped at his sweet surprise.

Finally ready, you swung the door open, “Nice to see you here, Sir Hiromi,” his name rolled off your tongue with a teasing lilt, one that’s daring him to step an inch inside your home. And he would have, because your appearance for tonight was not something that his control could take.

Higuruma wanted to stop time right there and then, at the exact moment you stepped out of your door with flushed cheeks and a dazzling grin. He wanted to take his time in analyzing every curve and inch of your skin. The rise and fall of your chest, the delicate beauty marks adorning your body, the shine of your lips, and that fucking dress. He was only a man after all, and any man would fall to their knees if they ever were graced with your stunning look tonight.

“Lovely to see you too,” There was a pause in his words, and although his lips were locked, his mind scrambled for the words to say. “Y/N,”

“Yes, Sir Hiromi?”

“Just Hiromi tonight, love.”

“Hiromi,” His name is followed by a giggle.

The man extended his gift to you, “Before we go, I want to give you this.” Immediately, the fresh scent of the hand picked peonies and tulips greeted you. Its vibrant colors matched your dress. Your appreciation fell from your lips, and without wasting any more time, the two of you settled inside his sleek black car.

“You’re comfortable, right?” Higuruma briefly glanced at you, then you replied with a polite smile. You have not even reached your destination yet but you were already drunk. His rich perfume whiffed about in the air, his scent dangerously intoxicating you and fueling your lustful imagination. His choice of clothing was a weapon too; a black tuxedo fitted perfectly on his form. And his nose, how could you ever forget his perfect nose.

Unconsciously, your teeth bit your lip. That damn charm never faded even when he simply drove. Were you reaching your breaking point? Or is it that time of the week again? Whatever, you needed him. The feeling’s mutual though. Higuruma, too, finds you irresistible under the moonlight.

An inner turmoil stirred inside him, though. His hesitance of bringing you to the date gnawed at him gradually. The closer you got, the more he wanted to turn back and drive fast to your house, needing you to be all for himself tonight. But, there’s no turning back now, not when another surprise is already waiting at the venue.

Higuruma sneaked a glance on your exposed thigh.

Christ.

Did you even know the extent of your control over his restless mind? That, just one more word slipping from your mouth would tilt him over to the edge? His composure is unraveling under the force of your mere presence and you’re so blatantly unaware of it. Your blindness to his suffering tethers him even more to you. It’s almost indescribable how badly he wants to put himself under you. under your pussy

God, he thought. May God extend his restraint because another moment alone with you will drain all his control.

Aside from his buzzing train of thoughts, the ride to the restaurant was silent. Nevertheless, your unspoken desires spoke for yourselves. A part of Higuruma was also glad you remained still, for hearing your sweet voice might just be the last push.

After a few grueling minutes of fucking you in his own world, the both of you arrived at your destination. Higuruma swiftly led you to your assigned table, where a surprise caught your breath.

“S-Sir Kento?”

Ah, there you are, Nanami’s object of nightly affection.

And just when you thought your night couldn’t get any better, Nanami sat at the booth. His eyes shifted from the menu to yours, capturing yours with a playful glint. Your grip on your purse tightened as Higuruma walked you to him.

“Thought it would be nice to have him with us.” Higuruma smiles and gestures for you to sit beside him and you excitedly do so. Albeit your visible shyness, you quickly warm up within their presence. And after some greetings, dinner started.

Your attention shifted to Nanami, who appears to be very sophisticated with his suit and tie. Fuck, it’s embarrasing to admit it but these men have outsmarted you, turning the tables and making you their playtoy instead. You’re not letting your hard headed self succumb without a fight of course.

When the food arrived, your plan silently commenced. As you bit your meal, your foot brushed against Nanami’s, earning a warning glance from him. Stubborn, you let your teasing continue. Slowly, you rubbed your heels, tracing lines on his skin that made him tense, before subtly lifting up the ends of his trousers. Nanami decided to clear his throat, as if signaling Higuruma.

“So, what about you, sweets? You can’t be sitting in your room all dolled up everyday.” Higuruma asked, placing his palm on your exposed thigh.

You’re caught speechless, “I…” You looked up at him, wordlessly begging for mercy as his hand went closer to your clothed sex. Nanami played dumb across you, finding amusement at your predicament.

“Oh, me?” You gulped, rushing for a word to say.

“Haha! I’m actually quite uninteresting once you get to know me.” Your laughter failed to cover the rising tension within the room. And just from Nanami’s stifled snicker, you knew you were an idiot for even attempting to play it off.

Higuruma went on, “Seriously? No boyfriend to talk to or anything?” You grew hotter under their intense gazes, grappling at your composure to stay under Higuruma’s taunting moves.

“No.. No boyfriend.”

“You can’t fool adults, angel. A pretty lady like you ought to grab some attention, hm?”

Higuruma squeezes your inner thigh, “A-attention?”

“Yeah, your mini skirts were distracting. Or you don’t know that either?” They’re taunting you and you’re falling for it. Gradually, but surely. They’ve found your weakness, using it to satisfy their need for humiliation; almost like a punishment for teasing them.

“S-skirts…? Oh!” Your sentence is interrupted by Higuruma’s sneaky hand that was now placed before your pussy. Dissatisfied with your limited expression, Higuruma pushed your button by grazing his finger on your nub. And for a moment, your face faltered and a short gasp left your lips.

Your mind screamed at him for his teasing, loathing at his want for humiliating you publicly. Yet, your unbridled hatred for him could not mask your desire. Each glide of his finger against your sex was intoxicating. You never thought he’d crossed the line in a restaurant, surrounded by dining visitors and watched intently by Nanami himself. Dread etched onto your face as you helplessly feel your control entangle itself within Higuruma’s lust, bound by your need for excitement.

You lift your head, facing Higuruma with a newfound courage to endure his seduction.

“Hiromi—”

“Do you need water?,” He began rubbing his index finger on your clit, “You look rather flushed.” You struggled to reply when his movement went faster. Embarrassingly, your pussy welcomed his hand, slick pooling in your panties. You can’t think straight. Not when Higuruma’s fingers are only quickening by every passing second. Or when Nanami’s staring at you with such hunger it’s almost primal.

“Hiromi, It may be beige this time.” Nanami chimed in, seemingly unbothered by the growing tent in his own pants. “Mhm? Oh, I agree with you on that one.”

“W-what are you guys talking ab—”

“It’s just a game me and Kento play.”

If it wasn’t for the table's long drapes and the cloth on your lap, everyone beside you would have seen the scene. And if it also wasn’t for the waiter who asked for the desserts, you would’ve coated Higuruma’s finger with your cum.

“May I now serve the desert?”

“Please do.” Nanami gave the server a smile. And just like that, the tension from earlier dissipated and the two men were now back to normal. They chewed their meals and laughed heartily at their conversations, ignorant to your dazed expression.

The whole dinner went by without any more intrusions and fastly, it had come to an end. You stepped out of the restaurant, arm linked around Higuruma’s with the bouquet in hand while you bid your goodbyes to Nanami. It was unfortunate that your dinner with them had to end, but that means you now have the chance to return their gesture.

It was clear the tension from earlier was still present. With Higuruma failing to keep his attention on the road ahead, and your eyes drifting from the window to his crotch, a few words needed to be said.

“Hiromi, that was so unfair!” You pouted, and Higuruma could only chuckle as his response.

“I’ll make it up to you,” He looked at you, “We will make it up to you.”

“How?” You bit your lip, pressing your legs together to ease your arousal.

“You know how.”

“But I don’t know how.” Higuruma lets out a soft grunt at your words, caught between annoyance and exhilaration. You can’t have your way with him and you know that. He’s still in control but seeing him lose his insanity over just mere words made you laugh.

“Please?” Your tone dripped with hoax innocence, pressing onto his patience even more when he stayed silent. “Stop being such a gentleman, Sir Hiromi!”

“Careful” He warned, “You might get more than you wish for.” But his statement only added fuel to the fire, igniting another desire within you to see how far you can go.

You swallowed your hesitance, “But that’s what I want.”

“Test me one more time, Y/N.”

Was it a threat? An order? Anyway you see it, you will be the one about to be tested. It’s frightening; you have a zero idea of what he can promise you after pushing his buttons. However, the fear of the unknown sends a sweet ache down your sex only he could relieve. But seeing that you’ve pressed him, you might be getting anything but a sweet treat.

“Come on, tell me how you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of being shared.”

Your body stiffened at his bold accusation, flinching even.

“Oh, was that too much? A sweet girl like you can’t handle words like that? Was it too mean, Name?” He mocked you, but your body betrayed his mockery as your pussy dripped with more lust.

“Where did all that confidence go? Where’s the girl that will grind on Nanami’s dick in front of me? Or did my little stunt earlier put you in your place? Perhaps, I need to do more to get it through your skull.”

You clenched your fists, ready to face his tenure, but your voice wavered. “Y-you’re the one who’s mean! You touched me in front of everyone!”

“Now you’re acting like you didn’t enjoy it— like you didn’t love Nanami’s eyes all over you.” His words cut right through the air, striking you a fact that you weren’t ready to accept. The sudden hushness of your voice was the only confirmation Higuruma needed. Slowly, his lips contorted into a smile.

His unbelievable behavior with you was uncharacteristic and hardly a reflection of who he used to be; a result of crossing your boundaries. As he drives a kilometer closer and closer to your house, you get to see his true nature— a hungry, and sadistic man. A man who reveled in your indignity. It wasn’t off-putting, though. If anything, it turned you on even more.

Your ride was almost coming to an end, yet none of you spoke up. Higuruma still had that stupid smile on his face, while you’re still shaken from your argument with him. When you arrived at your front porch, you hurriedly stepped out of the car, eager to escape whatever words he’ll be saying.

“You’re mean, Hiromi!” You scowled, stomping to your front door while Higuruma trailed behind without wiping his smile off his face. “Mean? I thought you liked that too.” You shot him a mocking smile before pushing your door open. However, Higuruma’s quick to close it shut.

His coy mockery slipped, revealing his genuine concern, “You… still enjoyed it, right?” he asked, needing to be assured. A small giggle ran past your lips, turning around to face the man who held a softer gaze than before. There was a pause in your movement, mind in a dilemma over what your next response should be. But one thing’s for sure; you’re ready for another date, and hopefully it goes past just rubbing you under tables.

Higuruma awaited your next move, curious at your roaming eyes. Suddenly, you started to flicker inexistent dust off his suit and fixed his unmoving tie. You took your time with your fingers, gliding them across his firm chest, unaware of his rapid heartbeat. Grabbing the lapel of his suit, you slowly pulled him into you just close enough to have your lips ghosting over his ear.

“Next time… Don’t disappoint me, Sir Hiromi. ”

Curse you! Not a single case in his profession had left him this winded. Whatever you are, you’ve bewitched him. You’ve cursed him in perpetual yearning, casting him a spell that always seemed to put you out of his reach. Now, you’ve displayed your power over him, giggling at his dumbfounded face. You may as well have hexed his mind because your distance only attracted him more.

“Ba-bye, Hiromi!”

Witch.

Exhaustion has bounded your body to near fatigue. Every action you take accompanied a sigh, a testament to your depleted energy. Lurid night shifts were a nightmare came true for you— darkness shrouding your surroundings, while the emptiness of the lot drew you in between fright and boredom. Golfers weren't a common sight at this hour either, leaving you alone with your cart and some alcohol you stashed for yourself.

However, your job can’t do itself. After serving the last round of drinks to your clients, you started a lap around the course. Night shifts were boring, but lately, your entertainment lied on every replay your mind made of your date, leaving a lingering smile on your face.

As you hummed a melody, your mind roamed its memories. Your date with Higuruma and Nanami has left you constantly checking your messages, waiting for the seen status to change.

“Perhaps, I was too mean to him.” You muttered with a sigh, but your genius mind jolted your body awake, striking yourself a brilliant thought. Giddily, you parked your car to the side and hopped off. You opened your camera and started to position your body for a normal selfie, then shifted your camera slightly above you to get a better view of your chest. You’ve mastered all inappropriate angles to get a man shaking in longing. It was a bait that worked many times in your favor— the two men won’t be an exception to this, of course.

Bending forward, puckering your lips, even pushing your breasts. You’d let them know what they’ve been missing. But, the unsettling feeling of being watched returns. However, you were too late to turn and were instead, shockingly greeted by a familiar voice.

“Bending over out in the open? A girl like you really has no shame, hm?” The sudden question left you off guarded, shrieking from the terror of the unforeseen voice. You quickly spun around, ready to hit whoever dared to mess with you. However, you’re faced with Higuruma and Nanami with cocky grins on their faces.

“W-What are you guys— No, wait! Why were you guys watching me like a creep!” They ignored your complaints, stepping forward to corner you.

“Is that really the question that needs to be asked here, sweets?”

“More like, why is your ass out for the whole golf course to see?” Nanami joined in, taunting you with each step he took. “Is that your phone in your hand?”

“It’s perfectly normal to have my phone with me all the time!”

“Hm, it’s also normal for you to send these photos, right?” Then, Nanami whipped up his phone, its screen illuminated the very scandalous pictures you took. Your shock elicited a gasp, realizing your blundering fingers had accidentally sent them in some ridiculous manner.

“What— No! Ugh, whatever!” Overwhelming embarrassment enveloped your frame as you stepped away from the scene. However, confusion replaced your shame when their conversation continued.

“It’s pink.” Higuruma suddenly commented, “Of course it’s pink— It always is!” He followed it with a brazen chuckle while staring at your pictures, Nanami joining him soon when he realized. The ambiguity of their conversation has you glancing back, refraining your steps to fill in your curiosity.

“We might be going too far with this, Hiromi.” Nanami told him once he came to his senses, showing you a fraction of his pity. However, Hiromi’s meaner, and pent up from the few days he made no contact.

“Look at her, Kento. She’s not even leaving.” You’re humiliated once again by Higuruma. However, the indignity their words caused has you in this undeniable pull. Nanami caught your gaze, before you grumpily stomped back to your cart.

Higuruma walked to you, “Are you?” The air hung heavy with his unspoken desire, and suddenly, you felt your confidence climbing up once again. You remained still, wanting to see how far Higuruma he’d cross the line today.

“I mean…” You muttered. He exchanges a knowing look with Nanami before closing the proximity between you two. He let his fingers travel your arms first, before sliding them at your back, pulling you in closer.

Suddenly, Nanami’s unannounced hands join in, welcoming

itself to explore your body. Your heart pounded against your chest at their hunger as your knees buckled under the weight of their hunger.

“You’re right where we want you to be.” Higuruma remarked against your neck before nibbling your exposed skin. Their touches ignited every nerve in your body, firing it up with anticipation. Every small contact they made with your skin had you on the edge of surrendering yourself. And it was hard to retain your confidence when Higuruma and Nanami were hitching your skirt up.

Higruma groaned, “I'm always right, Kento.” Then, he pressed his finger against your clothed clit with such pressure. He intently watched your face, examining every little twitch your mouth makes as he dug his finger more.

“W-Wha—” Before you could finish, Nanami grabbed your chin, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. He kissed you like a depraved man, tongue welcoming itself inside your mouth. He drowned out the noises you made as Higuruma continued rubbing you through your pink panties.

“She’ll look even better naked.” Without second thoughts, he dropped to his knees and tugged your panties down.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He breathed out, before licking your pussy in long, wet stripes. Lapping on it and spreading his mouth all over your sex while he gripped the soft plush of your ass closer to his face, practically inviting you to ride him.

“Do it, angel.” With Nanami’s assurance, you hesitantly grinded your cunt on Higuruma’s face, making sure to hit the soft tip of his nose. It panged you with a profound need, like you’ve just hit the jackpot. His nose. It was perfect. So perfect, like it was molded to have your pussy grinding on it.

It felt good. It’s only his tongue and Nanami’s hands playing with your nipples but it feels so good. Each sway of your hips has you whining for more.

“H-Hiroooo—!” Higuruma hummed in response to your mewls, sucking on your clit with more passion, before bringing his lips all over. He was relentless. Not a single spot of your dripping pussy was left unkissed.

Nanami kissed your forehead, such a starching difference from his filthy praises. “Ride it. Come on, I knooow my girl can do it.” You steadied yourself against his chest, breathless and writhing under his hold.

“Feel good? Mhm, you wanna feel more?”

“Pleaseeee— I wanna!”

“Atta girl, just like that. Ride it like you want it— Fuck.”

Nanami attempted to soothe you with his soft words, murmuring sweet praises for enduring Higuruma’s tongue. But you couldn’t even form a coherent thought— let alone actual words.

“So so soo good! Hiro— please!” Every noise that left your mouth was incomplete, babbling on and on about Higuruma’s tongue while gripping onto Nanami for your life.

“You cummin’ angel? You wanna cum all over Hiromi’s face?” The pleasure was blinding. All you can do is quickly nod and whine for more.

“Yes! yes please, please!” But once those words came out, Higuruma stopped all his movements abruptly, baring your wet, pulsing cunt.

“A girl like you… has to earn it.” Higuruma says in between his breaths. He could feel his dick screaming at him to be free— to be inside you.

You whined at the loss of his sweet lips and turned to Nanami with pleading eyes to coddle you. He simply smiled and pecked your forehead. “Cruel. You’re going to make her cry.”

Then, Higuruma interrupted your little moment with him, “Im fucking hard, Kento. Give her to me.” His impatience was evident with how he forced you to your knees, leading your hands to the belt at his waist. He looked down at you, watching you comply as you unbuckled them.

After his belt, came his pants and boxers. The sight of his bare and hard cock made you stifle a moan, taken aback by his unexpected size and girth.

“Show me you earn it.” He commanded, and you swiftly abided. Your tongue made contact with his bulging tip, swirling it around and spreading his pre-cum all over, before opening your mouth and taking him whole.

It was such a stretch having him inside your mouth— a challenge for him either. He cursed himself, restraint faltering at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth surrounding his shaft. Your head was guided by Nanami's hold on your hair, making it much harder to control himself. The thought of you being guided by his best friend makes him so horny.

As you hollow your cheeks and slid your head in and out, Higuruma’s fingers found its way wrapped in your hair, together with Nanami’s. “C’mon, doll, you gotta suck Hiromi's cock better than that." Nanami buried your head further, showing no sympathy for your pitiful state.

Your hands twitched at your sides, hinting at them to give you just a fraction of their kindness. But respect is earned both ways. When you had wickedly played with their minds, you’d be treated with anything but respect.

“A-A girl like you— shit- needs t’ be taught.”

With ease, he unbuckled his belt and placed his thick and heavy cock on your empty palm. He offered no comfort at your side now. His light, velvety touches at your cheeks were long discarded, replaced with his tip that bumped your puffed cheeks.

“L-look at her filthy mouth, Kento."

"You think— ah, fuuuck. You think she can handle two cocks at the same time?"

Higuruma drilled into your skull with each thrust that he made on your mouth. His lengthy cock protruded again and again and violated your vulgar mouth. However, the two men were unsatisfied at only ruining your face.

His chest heaved, unruly groans drawn out from his throat as you sloppily lolled your tongue on his tip.

"Shit, just like that." Your eager cunt pulsed at his erotic words. Obscene noises hung in the air, mixed with Higuruma's curses and Nanami's stifled groans.

"Shh, I know I know, you need to be quiet, angel. You don't want us getting caught, right?"

"Not even a minute in and she's already struggling— pfft."

"Maybe a few more sessions like this and she'll last longer, yeah?" Pity was finally granted when Higuruma slipped his dick out.

But you should've known that a torturous man like Higuruma had other intentions. "P-please, please touch me— mph!" He silenced your pleads with his cock, chuckling darkly at your muffled cries. Their pleasure is derived from humiliating you. You know this. But it feels good. So good when they defiled you publicly with nothing but a beverage cart covering you.

"Eyes here, angel."

Your mouth worked wonders on Higuruma's dick, slurping his leaked juices as Nanami furiously fucked your palm. Soft and smaller hands wrapped itself on his shaft, the contrast to his hard cock sent him in a dizzying haze.

The lewdness of your cries, your chin covered in drool, and your doll-like eyes that silently begged for more— you truly were a slut for pleasing them both.

The arousal from fucking out in the open and your erotic moans vibrating on their dicks did the job. Their humiliation is gone as they ride out their high, pulling their cocks from your grasp and aiming right at your fucked out face.

"F-fuck, keep looking at us like that, angel."

High on the pleasure from your tongue, cum shot out of Higuruma’s dick, coating your face messily as more and more of his thick, creamy, seed haphazardly painted your face.

"Fuck! Yes, yes yes yes..."

"S-shit, 'm coming too." Nanami wasted no time in entering your mouth, pleasure bursting within him as your tight, hot, mouth sucked him on instinct.

Their sticky semen coated your mouth, drool mixed with Nanami's cum dripped to the ground below, struggling to swallow his massive load.

As much as Nanami wants to give you a breather, time is currently ticking, inching closer and closer to the end of your shift. It's also only a matter of time before a coworker notices your absence.

In one swift motion, Nanami pulled you up from the grass, bending you over the cart’s side seat.

"Wait—" But Nanami doesn't. Instead, he lined up his throbbing dick and steadily pushed himself inside your pussy.

Your eyes shot open at the sudden feeling. Pussy filled to the brim, and you can swear he's grown larger, thicker, compared to when you had him on your palm. Your pussy clenched around him deliciously, struggling to adjust to his size.

"F-fuck fuck fuck…" There was an agonizing pain in how he stuffed you. Once he started, his pace was torturously slow, savoring your fluttering walls.

"too good 't much!" Though every effort in flailing your body away from Kento's grasp was in vain. Higuruma surrounded you, a scowl on his face.

"Fuck, Hiromi. She's clenching me good."

"You're one greedy fucker, Kento."

"So fucking tight…”

He shushed you to be quiet, but his cock sliding in and out of you drew out sinful noises from your lips.

Nanami had spent countless of nights fucking his fists to you. How you'd sound like and how you'd feel like. Now, it was undeniably incomparable to the tight squeeze your pussy gave, and the high pitched moans you cried out.

"S-shut her u-up, 's too noisy,"

"Feel good! S-sir Kento—!" Your tears stained your cheeks, mixed with the drool escaping your puffy lips. Under his slamming hips, lay his cruel hand, that kept on rubbing your clit in tune with his thrusts.

"C’mon baby one more cock— so good so so good" Higuruma whispered, encouraging you to take his cock in your mouth again. "You take us so good sweets. You're the sweetest."

Your shaking frame struggled to keep up with their brutal pacing, legs so weak Nanami had to lift up your hips, putting you in that position where you could feel every single inch of his cock.

In their own corrupt way, it was their way of putting you in your place— serving punishment by ramming their hips and hollowing your tight, dripping cunt.

"Fuck… she's squeezing me- shit."

Nanami panted, eyes clenched shut and slamming himself harder and deeper— doing anything to chase that high.

"You close, sweets?" Higuruma grinned,"Kento's dick feels that good?” He taunted you, knowing you couldn’t reply with your mouth full of his dick. You closed your eyes and let them digged your holes, thrusts so persistent you were molding into their little fuck toy.

After a few more thrusts, his pace started to become unsteady, drawn out and returning to fucking you so slow and sensually. He was close, so fucking close. You're not done yet but he was already right over the edge. Curse you and your tight pussy.

But Nanami was no quitter. He held it in and waited for any sign that you're near your climax too.

"Fuck fuck fuck— don't stop!"

Just the sign he needed.

With a long breath, he slammed his hips into you with such force, knocking you right off your feet.

Plap plap plap

You were a mess; jaw wide open, whimpering and clinging unto Nanami's arm around your waist, eyes squeezed shut.

Nanami fucked you until you're dumb, unraveling every coherent thought you could muster; fucking you in a way it had you turning into a cock hungry slut.

"She's cumming."

Plap plap plap

He didn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He needed to see your throbbing and stretched out cunt squeezing him dry. He wasn’t stopping unless you had that fucked out look across your pretty face. God, he begged himself to hold out for much longer, wanting to see you take all his cum.

All his efforts were worth it. In the end, he had you screaming out a shrilling whimper, flailing your body as pleasure electrified your whole frame. Surges of blinding light cascaded you, then the rest is a blur. The only vivid feeling was his persistent cock.

"Good..." plap "fuckin'..." plap "girl..." plap

Gone was the control he prided himself on. He filled you with everything he had been holding back, pushing you further with every wave of pleasure that erupted within him. He emptied his balls, all its contents now leaking out of your weeping pussy.

"What a fuckin' mess..." Higuruma cackled, before lifting your limp semi-conscious self in his arms. Although he wanted his arms wrapped around you in a sweet embrace, a gratification for enduring them, he did made a promise to himself.

“My turn.”

It's going to be a long, long night.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world @mirrorballkento

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[n0vazsq]

Way of the heart | OP81 x Reader

pairing . . . oscar piastri x racing!engineer!reader

summary . . . After a tough race, Oscar has nothing to look forward to more than spending time with (Y/n)

request . . . kind of?

word count . . . 1.1k

warnings . . . none!

alexavia yaps . . . i really hate this one for some reason like its not the best i could do but i wanted to write something so yeah!! the person who wanted this (im sorry i forgot your user), if you want another story i will totally write it!! tysm for asking <3

Oscar slumped into the chair in the back of the team garage, still in his racing suit, the helmet beside him on the floor. Today’s race had been brutal, everything going wrong until he finally crossed the finish line in a place he didn’t even want to remember. No matter how much he tried to forget it, the disappointment still clung to him.

As the crew packed up around him, you walked over, carrying a bottle of water and a quiet look of understanding. You’d worked with Oscar long enough to know when he needed a moment to think and when he needed someone to remind him he wasn’t alone. Today, he needed the latter.

“Rough day,” you said softly, offering him the bottle. He accepted it with a quick nod, cracking it open but not taking a sip.

“Understatement of the year,” he muttered, letting out a short, frustrated sigh. “Everything went wrong, didn’t it? Every call, every turn… feels like I let everyone down out there.”

You didn’t rush to disagree or to tell him it was all fine because you knew Oscar didn't want you to. Instead, you waited a bit, giving him the space to breathe.

“You know, racing’s a lot like life. Sometimes it’s out of our control, even when we do everything right. We all saw you fight today,” you said gently. “One tough race doesn’t define who you are as a driver.”

He glanced up, the frustration in his eyes softening as he met your steady gaze. “Thanks,” he said, managing a faint smile. “Not sure what I’d do without you, honestly.”

You laughed lightly, leaning against the wall beside him. “Lucky for you, I’m sticking around, win or lose.”

His smile widened a little, and after a few moments of quiet, he stood up, finally letting go of some of the weight he’d carried off the track. “Hey,” he said, glancing at his watch, “I know it’s late, but do you want to grab some food? Just… need to be somewhere that’s not here.”

The restaurant he picked was cozy, tucked away from the noise and chaos that followed you on racing weekends. He knew you’d love it, remembering how you mentioned your love for Italian food

When you walked in, his heart skipped a beat. You wore a smile that was both warm and teasing, the one that always seemed to make everything feel a little less overwhelming.

He stood, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, you look… great,” he said, his voice a little unsteady. The nerves of the race had melted away, replaced by a different kind of nervousness that he couldn’t ignore.

You grinned, taking a seat across from him. “Thanks, Piastri. It’s nice to see you in a non-race setting for once. And I have to say, you look pretty good.”

He laughed, glancing down at his simple outfit. “I tried, y’know, for you.”

The waiter took your orders, and as the evening went on, you two spoke about anything and everything but racing. The conversation drifted easily from favorite movies to random childhood memories. You two talked about wild stories and embarassing moments, laughing at every single thing.

But Oscar’s mind kept wandering back to you. How you’d been there every step of his career, how you’d seen him at his worst and still chose to believe in him. At one point, as you were laughing at a joke he’d told, he couldn’t help but stare a little, his heart pounding in a way that felt completely different from the adrenaline of racing.

The laughter quietened down, and a comfortable silence fell between you both. Oscar looked down at his hands, trying to think of what he wanted to say. “You know,” he began, a little quieter now, “you mean a lot to me. More than just… my engineer or friend.”

You looked up, your expression softening, and he felt his courage swell just a bit. “I think I realized that today, after everything went bad on the track. Just seeing you there, not judging me, not telling me what I should’ve done differently, just… being there. It made all the difference.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’d be there no matter what, Oscar. You’re a brilliant driver and a good person. Bad race or not, that doesn’t change.”

His cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading through him. He turned his hand to hold yours, letting the silence speak for itself. And for a moment, all the disappointment and frustration faded, replaced by a quiet joy that he hadn’t expected to feel tonight.

Later, you walked together under the night sky, the cool breeze a welcome contrast to the warm evening inside. He found himself wishing the walk could last forever, just the two of you, away from the chaos of everything.

Eventually, you both settled on a bench with a view of a beautiful fountain. The sound of the water filled the quiet spaces between you, and he reached over, slipping his hand into yours again, holding it with a confidence he hadn’t felt earlier.

“This feels perfect,” you murmured, leaning against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I wish every night could be like this.”

You let out a soft laugh, resting against him. “It’d be easier if we weren’t always at a race or in different cities every other week.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, looking out at the fountain. “But I think… I think it’s worth it.”

You turned to him, your gaze meeting his with a warmth that made his heart race. He took a deep breath, the words he’d been holding back finally finding their way out.

“Do you… maybe want to meet my family? Make it official?” he asked, his voice a little uncertain but hopeful.

You raised your eyebrows, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Oscar, I think we’re already there. You didn’t have to ask. And of course, I'd love to meet your family.”

He chuckled, feeling a weight lift as his heart swelled with happiness. “Then consider this official.” He leaned in, taking your lips in a kiss.

The kiss made butterflies fill your stomach, it was soft, but also made you crave more. It was something magical, like straight out of a movie. Oscar had his hands on your waist, and yours tangled in his hair. It somehow made it more intimate, more personal. You didn't want it to end.

When you finally pulled back, the smile on your face was everything Oscar ever wanted to see.

Hand in hand, you walked back to the car, and for the first time that night, Oscar felt a sense of peace, knowing that no matter what happened on the track, he’d always have you there, his biggest supporter, his steady presence.

And with you by his side, he knew he could face anything that came his way.

[jockwrites]

selfish - p.b

part: 1

summary: the beginning of “friendship” between you & paige.

warnings: cursing

a/n: hellooooo welcome back to another series, i’m sure this will be fun to write and im excited for you guys to see where this goes!

my eyes drifted across the lecture hall, landing on a familiar face—paige bueckers. obviously, i’d heard so much about the star basketball player, but seeing her in person was different. she was leaning over a textbook, her blonde hair falling forward as she focused intently.

i felt my heart flutter slightly as i took her in. there was something about her demeanor, her strong jawline, and the way her muscles filled out her shirt. i quickly looked away, chiding myself. i kind of forgot i have a boyfriend and what not.

as the lecture began, i found myself sneaking glances at paige every so often. each time, i felt that familiar flutter in my chest. i tried to brush it off as mere admiration for her athletic prowess, but a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that it was more than that. but it can’t be, i have a boyfriend.

after class, i gathered my courage and approached paige as she was packing up her bag. my heart raced as i got closer. “hi, i'm madison. i just wanted tell you i really admire your skills, you know, on the court.”

the voice in the back of my mind was telling me i sounded so very stupid. introducing myself to the paige bueckers? absolutely ridiculous, but worth a shot.

paige looked up and flashed me a warm smile, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners, “hey, thanks! i've seen you around campus. you're in my psych class, right?”

i nodded, feeling a little flustered under her gaze. “yeah, i am,” she stood up and stretched, her arms reaching overhead and making her shirt ride up slightly. i caught a glimpse of her toned stomach and felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

but i can’t be feeling like this. over a girl? no way, i have a boyfriend.

paige's smile lingered as she tucked her book bag over her shoulder. “it's nice to meet you, madison,”she said, her voice low and smooth. “maybe we can study together sometime? psych can be tough.”

i swallowed hard, nodding eagerly. “yeah, that'd be great,” i managed to say. as paige walked away, i watched her retreat, admiring the way she looked with each step. i shook my head, trying to clear it.

what was i doing?

i met up with my boyfriend, jason, later that day. he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and kissing me deeply. usually, his kisses made my heart race, but today, all i could think about was paige. guilt washed all over me.

no girl has ever made me feel this way, ever. i’ve always considered myself straight, maybe bisexual. but the only reason i’d ever consider myself bi is because i’ll think a girl is cute every now and then.

sure, i’ve kissed a few girls, but i never felt anything. i’ve never felt that kind of connection with girls, ever. well—atleast not the feeling i feel with jason. i love jason, he’s my everything, but i can’t help but shake the feeling of how im lowkey simping for a girl.

—

one weekend, paige and i had spent the day together. no studying, just hanging out. we'd gone to the park, lay on the grass, talking and laughing. i'd felt so at ease with her, so comfortable. too comfortable, maybe.

at one point, she'd leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. i'd stiffened at first, surprised. then i'd relaxed, enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. i'd even slipped my arm around her, pulling her closer.

it had felt... nice. too nice. i’ve started to love looking at her mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. i'd quickly pushed the thought away, guilt washing over me. i have a boyfriend, i reminded myself sternly. i can't be thinking about kissing paige.

but i couldn't stop thinking about it. days turned into a week, and the memory of that moment in the park lingered. i always remember myself staring at paige's mouth during our study sessions, blushing when she'd catch me looking. i was so confused. it felt so wrong, but so good.

—

weeks passed and i’d continued to steal glances at paige in psych class, my heart fluttering each time. for the past few weeks we’ve hung out, nothing special but it was great. we would go for ice cream, maybe get my favorite—zaxbys, and it would all be good. but genuinely, it’s horrible being around her.

im in a relationship with someone, yet im falling for another person. that person being a girl. i sound fucking stupid.

our professor announced a big project, assigning partners randomly. my heart pounded as the list was read aloud. “madison cooper and paige bueckers,” she called out.

i froze. there is no way she assigned me with the girl call myself liking. paige and i exchanged a surprised look. a slow smile spread across her face, and i felt my knees go weak. as we gathered our things after class, paige approached me. “looks like we're partners, madison.”

“looks like it,” i breathed, my voice barely audible. her nearness made my pulse quicken. we decided to meet at the library that weekend to start on our project. as i left the lecture hall, i felt a mix of excitement and dread.

i have a boyfriend.

—

that weekend, i sat across from paige at a worn wooden table in the library. she was leaning over her laptop, her brow furrowed as she typed. i couldn't help but stare at her strong hands, her broad shoulders, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders.

paige looked up, catching me staring. she smirked slightly. “you okay, madi? you seem a lil… distracted.” i blushed, averting my eyes. “i'm fine, just... thinking about the project.” even to my own ears, the excuse sounded weak.

but that nickname, madi.

i mean—everyone calls me madi. but from paige, her saying it, it sounds heavenly. i don’t want anyone else to ever call me that nickname again now that it’s left paige’s mouth.

—

i notice madison staring at me—a lot, and it makes me feel a strange warmth in my chest. as we worked on our project, i found myself stealing glances at her too, admiring the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her lips parted slightly as she reads.

i start wondering… wondering what it would be like to kiss those parted lips, to run my fingers through her silky brunette hair. i shook my head slightly, trying to dislodge the thought. madison isn’t my type, i don’t think. i know she’s straight, but i could definitely turn her.

then again, she has a boyfriend.

she’s only mentioned him a few times, talking about their dates, future plans and what not. but honestly, he sounds lame. she mentioned he got her flowers & candy for her birthday, what a loser. like seriously? a girl like her? if it was me, i’d go all out.

as the day went on, i became more aware of the subtle signs madison was giving me. the way her eyes lingered on me, the slight flush of her cheeks, the way she bit her lower lip.

i decided to test the waters. as she passed me a printout, i let my fingers brush against hers. i saw her intake a sharp breath, her eyes darting to mine. her skin is soft, smooth like butter. despite the subtle, small action, i could feel how soft and fragile her skin felt.

“sorry,” i murmured, not pulling away from her touch. her fingers curled around mine, squeezing gently. “it's okay,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. i felt a jolt of electricity at her touch, her response. i was onto something.

—

paige's fingers brushing against mine sent shivers down my spine. i looked into her eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded away. i felt a strong urge to lean in, to close the distance between us. but then reality hit me like a cold shower.

i have a boyfriend.

i gently pulled my hand away, trying to compose myself. “we should probably focus on the project,” i said, trying to sound normal. i turned back to my laptop, my mind racing. i can't let myself fall for paige, i have to stay loyal to jason or whatever.

but i still don’t understand how im falling so hard for a girl. a girl i just met at that, it sounds alien to me. if you told me 2 months ago i’d be head over heels for this woman, i’d look at you like you needed a straitjacket.

we continued working across from each other, the air thick with tension. i made sure to keep a safe distance, to not let our hands touch again. but being near her was torture. her scent, her presence, the way her voice deepened slightly when she was concentrating... everything about her drew me in.

as the hours passed, i found myself zoning out, my mind wandering to forbidden thoughts. paige's strong arms around me, her lips on mine, her hands exploring my body. i quickly rolled my eyes, trying to clear the images. no, i can't think like this.

i have a boyfriend.

i feel like i’m going insane, there is no way in hell im actually thinking like this. thinking like this about a girl, am i crazy? i think so. but it just sounds so right. i don’t think i’ve ever imagined times like this with jason though.

i mean, we did have sex a few times. but when i met him, i didn’t think like that— it was more of an emotional connection. i wasn’t immediately thinking about what his lips would feel like on mine.

paige seemed to pick up on the change though. she didn't bring up the touch again, didn't act the way she was acting earlier. we worked in near silence, the tension between us palpable but unspoken. as we finished up for the day, i felt a mix of relief and despair.

“not gon’ lie, i didn’t expect you to be this smart,” paige remarked, laughing softly as we packed up. “yeah, i try my best in academics,” i agreed softly. she smiled at me, and i felt my heart ache. why does it have to be her? why do i have to be taken?

“same time next weekend?” she asked. i hesitated for a moment. being around her was torture, but it was a torture i craved. “yeah,” i heard myself say. “same time next week.”

as i walked home, my mind was in turmoil. i knew i should end things with jason, that my heart wasn't in it anymore. but the thought of hurting him, of disappointing my family, held me back. i buried my face in my hands, a frustrated groan escaping my lips.

and no, im not trying to end things because of paige, thats silly—this thought weighed heavy on my mind for months. i mean, very good guy, but things just haven’t been the same. paige, she’s just the cherry on top.

i found myself in an impossible situation. i was falling for paige, but i was committed to someone else. i couldn't keep stringing jason along, not when my heart barely belonged to him.

here’s the situation: me and my boyfriend are falling apart, i’m falling for a girl, and my life is in shambles. sounds crazy right? yeah, i know.

i spent the rest of the week distracted, snapping at jason when he'd try to talk to me, zoning out during family dinners. but can you blame me? my situation is shit. i feel horrible, horrible for doing this to my boyfriend, horrible for falling for this girl.

my mom noticed, pulling me aside one evening. “madison, talk to me,” she said softly. “something's on your mind.” i hesitated. i wanted to confide in her, to tell her about paige, about my conflicted feelings. but i was scared. scared of her reaction, scared of what would happen next. so i chickened out. “it's nothing, mom.”

she searched my face, concern etched on her own. “madison, you can talk to me, you know. whatever it is, we'll figure it out together.” her voice was gentle, encouraging. but i just shook my head, pushing past her to retreat to my room.

alone in my room, i curled up on my bed, hugging a pillow to my chest. all my thoughts weighed down on me like a brick as i realized the mess i was in. i was torn between duty and desire, between what was right and what felt right. and i had no idea how to fix it.

this is the reality of being a girl i guess— or being a girl liking another girl. i’m a mess. i barely know her, it’s only been about a month or two, and they’ve been great, i can say that. but i just don’t get what’s wrong with me. what kind of phase am i going through?

i guess time will tell sooner or later.

[quojae]

 - Where your roommates male bsf changes your life forever - 

f!reader x sunghoon - college au - kissing - living together - mutual feelings - fluff  

a/n: hello loves 𖹭 i really hope you enjoy this cute and fluffy short story (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

wc 7.2k

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

starting college will always be  nerve racking. of course you look forward to it - its a step into a brand new world, who wouldn't be excited. yet at the same time, leaving behind everything you've known to move in with a stranger, its a strange feeling to describe. for some extroverts its thrilling, and for some introverts its downright terrifying. you aren't quite sure how to feel about it. the tangle of nerves in your stomach has yet to unwind itself, so you sit on your new bed, in your tiny dorm room, staring at a blank wall unsure what to do next. your life that you managed to pack into four boxes is all laid out in front of you. clothes, stationary, that one blanket you've had for as long as you remember, all in front of you waiting to be placed in its new spot in this unfamiliar room. the clunk of a door opening startles you out of your thoughts. you jump a little, instinctively straightening up on your bed as the door creaks open. in the doorway stands a figure, the silhouette of someone about your age, holding a few bags, a backpack slung over one shoulder. they look just as unsure as you feel, glancing around the room with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.

"uh... hey," they say, their voice sounding friendly, but there's a hint of nervousness. "i guess this is my room…"

the air between you both feels awkward at first - like neither of you knows quite how to break the ice.

you both probably have a million thoughts running through your heads, each of you wondering what this new chapter is going to bring. but here you are, in the same boat, just two strangers trying to figure out how to make this work.

you clear your throat, “im… y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

the girl standing in the doorway smiles and steps further into the dorm, dragging a large suitcase behind her, “wonyoung, jang wonyoung,” her voice is sweet, making you feel instantly more comfortable.

  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

after the initial awkwardness things were simple, easy. despite the fact your new roommate, wonyoung looked quite literally like a fairy princess, she was approachable and friendly and you easily grew close. things were surprisingly simple. the early days were full of small talk, the nerves slowly settled as the days passed, and you found yourself laughing more than you thought you would.

wonyoung was, as your first impression suggested, impossibly pretty - like someone who belonged in a fairy tale. Her hair was always perfectly styled, and she had this effortless grace about her that made you feel like you were in the presence of royalty. But for all her beauty, she was so fun to be around, charming, funny, and completely approachable. it didn't take long to realize that behind the porcelain skin and delicate features, there was a real person - someone warm, and wonderful. after meeting her friends you fit in immediately, they were so welcoming to you it was like finding another family. your social circle expanded daily as she introduced you to new people. it was fun, it was what college was supposed to be and you were enjoying every minute.

college was fun of course, but college was also a lot of work. You would often find yourself sitting at your small desk that was crammed into a corner of the room writing essays into the late hours of the night. sometimes wonyoung would stay up with you, also writing an essay, other times she would just chat with you, simple conversations to help make work feel a bit less like work. it was one of these nights, you were writing a paper, wonyoung was lounging on her bed, in frilly pink pajamas, as usual. yet tonight she was a bit distracted, still chatting with you, but sometimes there would be an awkward break in conversation as she thought deeply about how to respond to a text she had gotten.

after rushing through the conclusion of your paper and throwing on pajamas, ready to collapse and fall asleep for the next few hours until your painfully early 9am class you realized wonyoung was still awake, still laying on her bed, staring at her phone.

"what's up?" you ask, your voice tentative.

she hesitates for a moment before responding, her tone a little strained. "Oh, sorry. i'm just having a bit of an argument with my mom."

you sit up a little, concern rising. "well, what's going on? maybe i can help."

"the thing is," she begins, her voice quiet, "one of my childhood friends is coming to campus for a seminar or something - it's not a big deal - and my mom wants him to stay with us so he doesn't have to pay for a hotel." she finishes speaking and quickly types a response to a text, her brows furrowing as she does.

“that doesn’t seem like a big deal,” you respond, “i wouldn't mind”

She lets out a sigh “i wouldn't mind either, the real problem is my friend who she wants to stay with us, is a guy, and knowing his personality im afraid he would make you uncomfortable.”

your mind processes that for a moment before responding, “well, he is your friend, i'm sure it won't be too bad, why not let him stay with us for a bit, he can sleep on our couch.”

wonyoung pauses her furious typing to look at you with a worried expression “are you sure?”

you smile “yeah, why not!”

  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

a month had passed since that late-night conversation with wonyoung, and it had almost slipped from your mind entirely - until a knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts. you sighed and set down your textbook, walked over to the door, expecting a delivery or a neighbor needing something, but when you opened the door, you froze.

a man stood there, holding a duffel bag. he wasn’t someone you recognized, but that wasn’t what left you speechless. it was his appearance, the sheer perfection of it, that took your breath away. his hair was perfectly styled, framing his sharp jawline and angular features in a way that seemed too flawless to be real. His thick brows arched perfectly above his eyes, which held a sharp, almost intense gaze. the contrast between his dark hair and pale skin made him look like something out of a fashion magazine, or maybe a dream.

you stood there for a moment, completely frozen, unable to process anything other than the fact that this was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. his presence seemed to fill the cramped hallway, his features so striking it almost felt like you were staring at a sculpture.

and then it hit you - how disheveled you must look standing in front of him. you were wearing an old graphic tee, the one you’d picked up from a random bin in a clearance section years ago, paired with old shorts you used to use for painting, that you found at the back of your closet, because you didn’t feel like putting any effort into your appearance, you were supposed to be alone, at home it shouldnt have mattered. your hair, which you hadn’t bothered to style, hung messily around your face, and you hadn’t even washed your face that morning. the contrast between the way he looked and the way you felt was almost too much to bear.

for a few seconds, there was nothing but awkward silence as you stared at him, trying - and failing - to hide the sudden wave of self-consciousness. you could feel heat rising in your cheeks. in that moment, you wished you were somewhere else, anywhere but here.

finally, you managed to find your voice, stumbling over your words. “hi there… i think you have the wrong room.”

he just stood there, like a model, with his duffel bag hanging by his side. then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice smooth, “you’re wonyoung’s roommate, right?” His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

"wonyoungs roommate?" you repeated, still feeling disoriented. How did he know wonyoung? you racked your brain, trying to make a connection. had Wonyoung mentioned someone like this to you? but nothing clicked.

you nodded, your voice shaky as you confirmed, “yes…” you glanced at him again, unsure what to make of this strange encounter. His presence was both overwhelming and oddly comforting, as though you were in the presence of someone who didn’t belong in the same space as you—but at the same time, something about him felt… familiar.

the man seemed to take in your reaction with a slight, almost amused smile, as if he could read the confusion on your face. Without saying another word, he shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder, waiting for you to respond or make sense of the situation.

after realizing you really had no idea what was going on he decided to save you by finally saying “im her friend, im staying with you for a few days, she was supposed to mention it to you.”

at that moment you remembered your conversation with wonyoung from a month ago, “oh, right, yeah, she mentioned you…. please come in” you smiled, to be welcoming, but also because you were happy you managed to form a complete sentence without stuttering. you rarely stutter, but for some reason just being around this man made your brain get all jumbled up.

he stepped in and put his duffel on the small sofa that was shoved against a wall, “im sunghoon park by the way,” he paused, “figure we should introduce ourselves considering we will be living together for a bit.”

you smile, “im y/n, its nice to meet you sunghoon.”

  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

later that night, wonyoung insisted on taking you and sunghoon out to dinner. with a bright smile, she told you both that she wanted her two closest friends to get along, and that this dinner would be the perfect opportunity for that. you agreed, though part of you was still a little unsure. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to get along with sunghoon, it was just you hadn't had any interaction with him after the initial encounter that morning, and you were still embarrassed over how you had presented yourself.

wonyoung led the way to a small, unassuming family restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. The place was a little hidden gem - one of those hole-in-the-wall spots where the food was always good, but the decor was simple. the moment you walked in, the warmth of the place, along with the smell of freshly made food, made you feel comfortable. You had been to places like this before, but this one felt special in its own way. the atmosphere was cozy, with wooden tables and the faint hum of conversation around you. 

the food came out quickly, and you couldn’t help but notice how much wonyoung seemed to enjoy every bite. she was talkative as always, offering you both recommendations, and even playfully teasing sunghoon when he hesitated over what to order. sunghoon rolled his eyes but smiled, it was obvious that this was a common interaction between the two of them. there was a comfort in the way they interacted, an ease that made it clear they had known each other for a long time. the way Sunghoon would tease wonyoung about anything and everything - whether it was her ordering too much food or her inability to sit still during a movie - always seemed to make her laugh, and she’d respond with exaggerated reactions, her eyes widening and hands gesturing dramatically as though hed just committed the most heinous of crimes. you couldn't help but smile as you watched them. 

as the evening wore on, you found yourself feeling glad wonyoung had invited you to this night out, appreciating the warmth of the night and the way both wonyoung and sunghoon made sure you felt included. even though sunghoon and wonyoung were so close sunghoon still made an effort to talk to you and be kind, he truly was like a prince charming, he was kind, a bit awkward and so fun to talk to. despite the fact you were having such a fun time, there was an odd tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite explain. every time wonyoung and sunghoon would get close - whether it was during one of their teasing exchanges or when they laughed about something that only the two of them understood - it was like a knot was slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. you didn’t have a reason to feel that way, but every time they’d share a private joke or lean in to whisper something to each other, the feeling only seemed to grow stronger.

the more you observed them, the more you noticed just how comfortable they were with each other, how they seemed to have this unspoken understanding that made them look like they had their own little world. you didn’t want to be the third wheel. you wanted to be part of the group, part of the laughter and lighthearted teasing. and yet, the longer you sat there, the more aware you became of the small, quiet ache inside you.

you pushed the thought away as you took a sip of your drink, trying to focus on the conversation and join in, but no matter how hard you tried, that tightness in your chest wouldn’t fade. something about the way they interacted—so effortlessly, so naturally—stirred something inside you. as the evening came to a close, and the three of you made your way out of the restaurant, wonyoung turned to you, clearly happy that the night had gone so well. 

“i’m glad you two got along!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright a smile stretching across her face. “See? i told you it wouldn’t be awkward.”

you smiled back, truly happy with how the night went.

  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

the rest of the week passed in a blur, marked by the usual mix of classes, assignments, and the general hustle of daily life. Nothing particularly exciting happened, but it wasn’t a bad week - it just felt... routine. you and sunghoon barely crossed paths, which wasn’t unusual. you were both busy with your own responsibilities, and with the way your schedules lined up, there were days when you didn’t even see him at all. you found yourself buried in textbooks and lecture notes, trying to keep up with assignments, while sunghoon was often caught up with his own seminar work or running errands. it was easy to slip into the regular rhythm of solo study sessions and late nights hunched over your desk despite the new presence in your dorm. Still, there were moments - small, fleeting moments - that made everything feel a little more... charged.

there was the time when you were sitting in the kitchen, focused on an assignment, when sunghoon had come in to grab a snack. you hadn’t even noticed him at first, too wrapped up in the words on your screen, but when you glanced up, he was standing there, looking at you with that quiet smile of his. 

“do you need help with that?” he’d asked, his voice soft and casual, the kind of tone that seemed to put you at ease instantly. There was something comforting about the way he spoke, like his words wrapped around you in a way that felt effortless but sincere.

then there was the time you were both sitting side by side on the couch, flipping through TV channels, both of you tired and looking for a distraction after a long day. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but when his hand brushed against yours as he reached for the remote, you felt a jolt of warmth rush through you. you hadn’t meant to linger, hadn’t meant to let the moment stretch out, but you couldn’t help it. your heart fluttered in your chest, and for a second, you wondered if he’d felt it too. 

sunghoon never said anything, he just went about his business, as if the casual touch meant nothing at all, and you did your best to pretend it didn’t either. yet, even after he’d moved his hand away, the feeling lingered, and you found yourself unable to focus on the TV or the conversation. it was like your pulse was a little faster, a little more alive.

then there were those small, unspoken interactions - the moments when you’d both find yourselves in the same room, but you didn’t need to fill the space with words. Whether it was passing each other in the hallway or sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, there was a quiet connection that seemed to hang in the air, just under the surface. every now and then, you’d glance up to find him already watching you, your eyes meeting, and in that fraction of a second, something unspoken passing between you. 

you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was like a quiet tension that seemed to weave itself into these tiny, everyday moments, and it wasn’t just the brush of hands or the small gestures - it was the way Sunghoon spoke to you, the tone of his voice, the slight curve of his lips when he said something sarcastic or playful. there was an effortless kindness in the way he treated you, a gentleness that you didn’t see in everyone. it wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough to make you feel... seen, in a way that felt different from what you were used to.

the thing was, you weren’t sure if you were reading too much into it. it was easy to get caught up in the little things, the glances, the words, and let your mind wander into places it shouldn’t. even so, you couldn’t help it. every time he spoke to you in that calm, reassuring tone, or when his presence filled the space beside you, your heart would flutter - sometimes so quietly that you’d almost wonder if you imagined it, but other times with enough force that it made it impossible to ignore.

you knew it was a silly thing to feel—after all, you were just temporary housemates, maybe friends, but there was something about Sunghoon that made everything feel... different. even in the quiet moments, the ones where nothing particularly noteworthy happened, your chest would tighten in a way that was unfamiliar. his kindness, his subtle presence, the way he made you feel like you mattered - it all had an effect on you that you weren’t sure how to handle.

by the end of the week, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was shifting, that these small, seemingly insignificant moments were adding up to something more, what that was, you weren’t sure. for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were just overthinking it. after all, sunghoon was just being himself - kind, polite, and friendly, like he always was. 

  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

"sunghoon is leaving in a few days, you know," wonyoung remarked casually one afternoon.

that simple statement immediately shattered your focus. your mind went blank, your heart sinking like a stone in your chest. you’d known this was coming, of course. it wasn't like he had moved in permanently - it was always just a temporary arrangement from the start. yet hearing it out loud, made something tight and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. you weren't sure what this feeling was, but it was definitely unsettling. 

“oh, really?” you finally managed to say, trying to sound casual even though your pulse had quickened. "So his seminar is over now?"

wonyoung nodded, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes. A look that made you feel like she was holding some secret. she didn’t say anything for a second, just giving you a soft, almost teasing smile.

"yeah, and because he's leaving in a bit... if you're going to say anything, you better do it soon."

her words hit you like a cold splash of water, and you froze, a little caught off guard. "what would i say?" you asked, confused. your mind was trying to catch up, but you were too tangled in the unexpected wave of emotions that had come up at the mention of sunghoon leaving.

wonyoung’s smile widened, and she leaned in a little, lowering her voice in that familiar playful way of hers, the one that made her seem both impossibly wise and annoyingly knowing at the same time. "well, it’s not like you two are subtle about it. there’s clearly something going on between you two. there’s like this... electricity that keeps zapping between you guys." 

she giggled lightly, clearly amused by your reaction, but you were too stunned to laugh with her. instead, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. the words hit you harder than you expected. your mind raced. so it wasn't just you. wonyoung had felt it too. The way things seemed to shift between you and sunghoon whenever you were in the same room, the strange moments when you'd catch each other’s gaze and feel that spark of something you couldn’t name. it wasn’t like you’d been outright flirtatious - at least, you didn’t think you had - but it seemed like it had been more obvious than you’d realized.

“w-wait, what?” you stammered, feeling your heart race. You tried to compose yourself, but it was impossible. “you think there’s something going on between us?” you couldn’t quite suppress the nervous laugh that followed, as if somehow distancing yourself from the weight of what she was saying.

wonyoung raised an eyebrow and gave you a mischievous smile, "oh, don’t play dumb. it’s pretty obvious, you know. the way he talks to you, the way he looks at you - even the way you two sit next to each other. it’s like there’s this... i don’t know, magnetic pull? and i can feel it in the air when you two are together."

her words hung in the air, lingering, and your mind was swimming. did sunghoon feel it too? that same strange energy that seemed to buzz when you were around him? you had always thought it was just your mind playing tricks, creating tension where there was none, but hearing wonyoung so casually acknowledge it made you question everything. it was almost like she’d peeled back the layers of your feelings and laid it all out in front of you, leaving you exposed in a way you hadn’t expected.

your stomach did a flip as you tried to make sense of everything. sunghoon was leaving soon and wonyoung was giving you a chance to do something, as if you had any idea what to do with the feelings swirling inside you. you had often laid in your bed wondering what exactly was going on, but now that wonyoung laid it out for you like this, you knew. you knew you were in love with sunghoon, hearing that he was leaving made your heart sink and now all you wanted was to run to him and beg him not to leave, because despite the fact you hadn't spent much time together, you became dependent on sunghoon, used to him, and you wanted him to stay.

you swallowed hard, looking down at your hands as you tried to hide your growing embarrassment. "i... i don’t know," you muttered, more to yourself than to her. "… i don’t know if it even matters, right? i mean, no matter what happens between us he still leaves," you could feel the heat rising in your face, and you silently cursed yourself for how obvious your feelings were.

wonyoung’s expression softened just a little, her tone turning more understanding. "i get it," she said gently. "it’s not exactly easy to spill your heart out to someone. i can’t tell you what to do, but i think if you feel something, maybe you should at least say it before he leaves, because once he's gone, it'll be harder to figure out what you might’ve missed out on, you know?"

she didn’t push any further, your mind was reeling, and you could feel the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. you weren’t sure what was happening between you and sunghoon—how deep it went, or what it even meant - but the pressure of this conversation, combined with the reality that he would be leaving soon, made everything feel like it was happening too quickly.

as wonyoung gave you one last knowing smile, she added, "i’m not saying you have to do anything drastic. just think about it, kay?"

you nodded, your thoughts were already a whirlwind. you knew you couldn't just let it go. it would always be one of those things where you would sit in bed wondering ‘what if’ for too long. love, this was a new feeling for you. love always seemed difficult, but this, this was so easy to fall into you hadn't realized what it was until it was too late. sunghoon had made it so easy.

wonyoung’s words echoed in your head, and suddenly, nothing felt certain anymore. You had a few days left. just a few days. the clock was ticking.

 ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

it was later that night, after dinner, when the weight of wonyoung's words hit you again, reverberating through your thoughts, refusing to let you go. Sunghoon was leaving in just a few days. you knew this, but somehow it felt like a punch to the gut now that it was so close. 

you sat on the couch next to him, the dim light of the TV flickering across his face as he absentmindedly scrolled through netflix. the air between you was easy, like it always was, the kind of comfortable silence that felt almost too natural. but tonight, with the knowledge that his departure was soon, the air felt heavy. Every small movement, every quiet gesture, seemed to be marked with an invisible countdown.

you watched him for a moment, feeling the tightness in your chest you had gotten used to. he was relaxed, his posture slouched slightly as he clicked through show after show, clearly not expecting you to say anything. but you wanted to say something. you needed to say something. the words wonyoung had planted in your mind, coupled with the overwhelming feeling of knowing he was leaving, made it impossible to just sit there in silence. your heart was pounding, your nerves a jumbled mess.

As you opened your mouth to speak, you realized it wasn’t that simple. telling someone you loved them was hard. so much harder than it seemed in movies or in your daydreams. you had thought, at some point, that the words would just spill out naturally, like they were meant to be said all along. but now, facing the reality of it, the vulnerability felt like mountain. 

So instead of speaking, you did something else. something quieter, something that felt less like a declaration and more like a question. slowly, almost hesitantly, you reached your hand out, just brushing your fingertips against his. you didn’t look at him; you kept your gaze fixed forward, pretending to focus on the TV, as if you hadn’t just made that small, brave movement. the room seemed to shrink around you, the silence between you both suddenly stretching out, more palpable than ever.

for a moment, you weren’t sure if he’d even noticed. Maybe it was too subtle, too small a gesture to register. But then, from the corner of your eye, you saw his head turn, his gaze flicking down to where your hand rested next to his. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, everything inside you stilled.

then, without saying a word, sunghoon’s fingers curled around yours, gently but firmly. He didn’t pull away. he didn’t hesitate. he just... took your hand. It wasn’t a dramatic gesture, but it was more than you had expected. your stomach did a somersault as warmth spread through you, starting at the point where your fingers touched, and radiating outward. your skin burned, and you could feel the flush creeping up your neck, your face. 

the world around you seemed to fade as you sat there, hand clasped in his. you were so acutely aware of everything—the warmth of his touch, the soft pressure of his fingers against yours, the slow, steady rhythm of your breath. It was the closest you had ever been to him, in every way that mattered, and it felt like both everything and nothing at once. the simplicity of the act, his hand in yours, was enough to make your heart race. the gentle squeeze of his hand seemed to echo through you, sending a ripple of something warm and unspoken deep inside your chest. 

but you didn’t move. you stayed frozen in place, not daring to disturb the moment, not wanting to break whatever fragile connection you had just forged. your heart pounded in your ears, and the more you sat there, the more everything inside you seemed to tighten—like a knot pulling at your insides. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so vulnerable, but you couldn’t seem to pull away either.

for a few seconds, neither of you spoke, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to. The silence felt like it was filled with a thousand unspoken words, each one hanging between you like a delicate thread. finally, Sunghoon shifted slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, soothing motion, as if to confirm that this was real. That he wasn’t going anywhere. 

you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but when you did, just a quick glance to the side, you saw him watching you—his eyes soft, the usual calm expression on his face now laced with something else. something deeper. maybe he could feel it too. the electricity that wonyoung had mentioned, the tension you hadn’t known how to name.

the words you wanted to say felt even further out of reach now, lodged in your throat like a lump you couldn’t swallow. but somehow, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. in that moment, you weren’t sure if you needed to say anything at all. maybe the feeling, the connection between you, spoke louder than anything you could put into words.

still, with your heart beating faster than you thought possible, you squeezed his hand back, just slightly, in response. And though neither of you said a word, it felt like the start of something new—something quietly, beautifully uncertain, just hanging there in the air between you both.

it wasn’t a promise, not yet. but it was enough, for now.

 ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋  ‧₊ ˚  ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

the days had ticked by, each one blurring into the next, the anticipation of sunghoon’s departure hanging over you like a storm cloud. it was the night of his departure now, and you couldn’t escape the feeling of dread gnawing at your stomach. despite all the time that had passed, despite everything that had happened - the moments of shared glances, the way his hand had felt in yours - nothing had come of it. you hadn’t been able to find the courage to say the one thing that had been consuming you. 

the night had crept up so quickly, and now here you were, standing on the precipice of something you were too scared to face. his luggage was already packed, sitting by the door, ready to go. the knowledge of his impending departure made the air feel thick, suffocating. he was leaving soon, and you were still standing here, frozen in this quiet, impossible space between wanting to say something, anything, and not knowing how to. 

you had never felt so lost, so desperate, so deeply in love with someone and completely clueless about what to do with it. Your heart ached every time you thought about the distance that was about to grow between you. 

sunghoon walked into the main living area, a smile on his face as he picked up his bags, but as soon as you saw him, something felt off. that smile, it was there, but there was something sad about it, something weighing him down. for a moment, the rest of the room disappeared, your gaze was locked on him, and the reality of him leaving hit you harder than you thought it would. 

behind him, wonyoung trailed quietly, her usual fuzzy energy subdued tonight, as if she could feel the heaviness of the moment too. she looked at you as she walked by, and gave you a look, as if trying to signal you to do something. then, almost as if on cue, she quickly excused herself, making some excuse to go greet a friend in the hallway. it was a subtle, unspoken thing, but you knew. you knew she was giving you the space, the time you needed, and probably a nudge to do something. 

Sunghoon stood there, his eyes searching yours as he adjusted the straps on his bag. The silence between you felt like it stretched on forever. He gave a quiet, almost melancholy sigh, and then, in a soft voice, he said, "This was fun." 

the words were simple, but they hit you like a brick to the chest. you could hear the weight in them, the bittersweet finality of his departure hanging in the air like smoke. ‘this was fun.’ It was the kind of thing you’d say when you didn’t know what else to say, but in that moment, it was more than just that. It felt like an ending. a goodbye.

your legs felt shaky as you stood up from your seat, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your heart in your throat. every inch of your body screamed to move, to do something, anything, to make this moment more than just a quiet exchange of words before he walked out the door and disappeared from your life. 

you walked over to him, your steps uncertain, but each one felt like it was pulling you toward something you couldn’t ignore anymore. you stopped just in front of him, close enough that you could see every detail - the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the soft brown of his eyes that you had gotten so used to over the past weeks. he was standing there, looking at you, and for a moment, everything in the world seemed to disappear except the two of you. 

tears welled up in your eyes, unbidden, as your chest tightened. how could you let him leave when you hadn’t even told him how you felt? you tried to speak, but your throat closed up, the words tangled somewhere in the back of your mind. you could barely think straight, your mind a mess of emotions and the rush of adrenaline flooding your body. 

before you even realized what you were doing, you reached out, pulling him into a tight hug. you buried your face in his chest, your whole body shaking with the force of the emotions crashing through you. the tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke free, hot and heavy, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. 

at first, he stiffened in your arms, and you felt a pang of regret, like maybe you’d done something wrong—like maybe you were crossing a line. then, to your surprise, he melted into the hug. his arms wrapped around you, warm and solid, pulling you closer as though he had been waiting for this too. you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. 

you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, just holding each other, the world outside fading into the background. your tears continued to fall, but now it wasn’t just sadness. There was a strange sense of relief mixed in with the pain. like finally, something had been said between you, even if it wasn’t with words. 

you held onto him tighter, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt like you were trying to hold onto him for dear life. The feeling of him, of his warmth, of his presence, made everything feel raw and real. you had no idea what was going to happen next, but for this moment, for this breath in time, you didn’t care. you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. his arms around you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing, said everything that needed to be said. the ache in your chest was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp anymore. In this embrace, it was softened by the connection between you both. 

as the minutes passed, you couldn’t help but think - this wasn’t the end, not really. It couldn’t be. not with everything that had been left unsaid, not with the way you felt when you were near him. 

he lowered his head slowly, pressing his lips to the top of your head, his breath warm against your skin. it was gentle, like he was trying to hold on to the moment as long as possible. then, without pulling away, he lifted his head just enough to whisper softly, almost as if he were sharing a secret with the world only meant for the two of you: 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

the words were quiet, but they hit you with the force of a thousand unspoken emotions. it wasn’t grand; it wasn’t a loud proclamation. It was simple, gentle, and so incredibly, him, and somehow, it was perfect. When picturing a confession of love you always imagined more, a dramatic confession like one in the movies. despite your imaginings as a child, this quiet, intimate confession felt like everything you needed, it was perfect. 

as his words settled around you, something inside of you released. that knot of emotions - of fear, of longing, of the weight of everything you’d been holding in - unraveled all at once. the tension that had been building for so long, the feeling that something was always just out of reach, was finally gone. you felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from your chest. 

for a long moment, you just stood there, staring up at him. your eyes were red from crying, but in that moment, all you could feel was an overwhelming rush of relief, and joy, it felt like you could finally breathe again.

“i love you too,” you whispered, the words spilling out more easily than you’d expected, like they had always been sitting on the edge of your tongue, just waiting for the right time to escape. 

it was simple. there were no grand gestures, no sweeping speeches. it didn’t need to be anything more than this. the words themselves held so much power, so much weight, that nothing else could compare. 

his eyes softened as he looked down at you, and you saw the way they flickered with emotion, something raw and real in the depths of his gaze. he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. the silence between you was filled with everything you’d both been too afraid to say until now. 

then, he leaned down, tilting his head ever so slightly, and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, as if he was making sure you were really there, really with him in that moment. then it deepened, and the softness turned into something more needy, more urgent. 

your hands instinctively reached up to run through his hair, threading your fingers through the soft strands, pulling him closer. His hand slid around your back, tracing the line of your spine with a tenderness that made your breath catch. his lips moved against yours with a quiet desperation, a sense of longing that seemed to echo the way you had felt all this time but had never known how to express. 

every cell in your body seemed to come alive. the kiss felt like everything you had been waiting for - every moment, every touch, every word that had been left unsaid - it was all pouring into this one instant. in that moment, you knew. you knew that this was where you were supposed to be. There was no question. No uncertainty. Everything about this felt right.

your heart raced in your chest, and your whole body seemed to hum with the intensity of the kiss. it was as if the universe had aligned in this perfect moment, pulling the two of you together in a way that felt inevitable. you were no longer two separate people standing on the edge of something unknown. you were together, and nothing else seemed to matter.

you didn’t want to pull away. you didn’t want this feeling to end, the heat of his body so close to yours, the way everything seemed to fall into place with every soft press of his lips. The world outside didn’t exist anymore. There was only him, only this moment, and the overwhelming certainty that everything had changed in the best way possible.

as the kiss deepened, you felt the warmth of his hands moving down your back, his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shirt. The way his touch sent sparks through your skin, igniting something deep inside you, made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t known you could. you pulled him closer, wanting more, wanting to stay wrapped in the feeling of being so completely connected with him.

when you finally, reluctantly, pulled away for a breath, your foreheads rested together, both of you panting lightly, still caught in the aftershocks of the kiss. his eyes were closed for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and when he opened them again, the look he gave you was full of something unspoken - a promise, maybe, or just the overwhelming weight of everything that had passed between you.

"i don't want to leave," he said, his voice low, rough, as if he were still processing everything himself.

you smiled, your thumb brushing over the side of his cheek. "then don’t," you whispered, your heart daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this story than either of you had realized.

for now, though, this moment - this kiss - was everything, and it was perfect, just as it was.

[howlingmod]

hello hello! I've never requested stuff before so i hope I'm doing this right lol, I'm wondering if i can request something tender and fluffy for follower sword x reader?

i just wanna hold that man in my arms bro, and your writing is just so peak

summary - follower sword x reader hcs. ur both phighters, uninetionally a little aut4aut coded woops

misc - thank you so much ! im glad you enjoy my writing .. smiles .. apologies if this is a little lackluster or inaccurate, this beast is weird. also yay first request !

-To say dating Sword can be a little unconventional is an understatement. More than once have people shot you a look once you told them who your partner is. Regardless, you wouldn't have it any other way and neither would Sword.

-Usually, people are confused as to how you guys got together in the first place. He's not exactly a social butterfly and he definitely comes off as threatening to most people, but there's no dramatic story to be found here, unfortunately. You just met him during a phight like most other people.

The match had been close, both teams were neck and neck for the point by now. It was a mad dash to get on the point or die trying, leaving more than a few people to try and make a run for it before falling to the other team the moment they were within a few feet. Every route lead to the same choking point, funneling everybody into a sea of flying bullets and swinging blades. Eventually, you noticed the crowd begin to thin as several people traded or finally picked someone on the other side off. If there was ever an opening, this was it. Stealing away from the corner you'd hidden in, you ran for the point, just barely dodging stray attacks before your feet touched the objective. The timer resumed in your teams favor, much to the other teams frantic irritation. A few of your teammates had bullied onto the objective just after you, helping fend off the incoming vigor of the enemy team in a last bid for the win, but it still wasn't enough. One got picked off, then another, and then another after that, then it was just you again. They'd gotten picks of their own and one had traded, but it still left you outnumbered. Given the exhaustion curling up your spine to lay heavy in your head and the dread of an inevitable loss hanging off your hands, you weren't winning this. Someone on the other team pushed towards you. You were slow on the uptake, pulling your gear just a few seconds too late through the fog of weariness. Practically in slow motion, you watched them reel back to swing, made to block it yourself, and a pale blade stick itself in the ground just between you two. With hands already raised, quickly identifing the blade's source, you instead made to cover your eyes before the flashing light could blind you. Where the once constant growl of battle had become ringing in your ears, there was silence. Peeking out behind your arms, there was nobody. It wouldn't last long, you knew that, but you finally felt as though you had a moment to breathe. Just a few seconds left. You could make out careful footsteps behind you, leaving you to whip your head around to the source. Instead of Shuriken or Scythe popping out to break the peace, you saw Sword. You hadn't seen too much of him that match, seemingly being focused on different areas (bitterly, you thought of asking him why he hadn't been helping you with the objective, but a better part of you decided against it.), but you were thanking the Heights he was on your team now. "Thanks for the help, you're a life saver," You hummed, smiling at him. He didn't return the gesture, hell, you aren't even sure he looked at you, given the lack of pupils. Faintly, you picked up some little grunt he made, a show of acknowledgement. That was enough for you. You turned back forwards, vaguely noting how he stopped next to you. Maybe he was tired too? You're sure he was focusing on trying to beat the other team into the ground for the match, so you wouldn't be surprised. The timer reached its peak, signalling your team's win. Neither of you made a sound, even as you picked up on your other teammates celebrating off in the distance. The air stayed peaceful, weight lifting off of you as you stood side-by-side. Nothing more needed to be said.

-Afterwards, you did your best to return the favor, though he rarely needed it. You would provide support in the ways you could, pointing a healer in his direction when he was in rough shape and picking off extra opponents if he was outnumbered. Where you'd expected to just help him out once or twice and consider the IOU paid off, he would return the aid right back. Without thinking about it, you two started to hover around eachother.

-He wasn't sure why he did it, just that, at some point, he began to think of you more than he needed to. It was good to know where your teammates were and what their status was, but he certainly didn't need to be worrying this much over an individual. Nevertheless, he would still check in on you, sending long glances your direction whenever you were nearby as a quick assesment of your condition.

-Even before matches you two would find eachother, sitting quietly as you two prepared for the upcoming phight. Sometimes, you would ramble to him as he listened wordlessly, only humming every now and then to let you know he was still paying attention (a habit he'd picked when his silence had lead you to trail off in the past).

-The first time you'd ever mentioned hanging out with him outside of a phight, he'd declined, if only out of unfamiliarity. He wasn't used to getting such direct, personal invites to be apart of other people's lives like that. It stuck in his head for a few days, the question of why you'd thought to pick him speficially rattling around in the back of his head.

-Eventually, he would be the one to invite you out. It wasn't anything special and, in all honesty, it was probably just to walk around. Nothing all that entertaining, but he didn't care about the activity as much as he did having more time to hear you talk.

-Likewise, the confession (after a long time of him sorting out his feelings, he still didn't totally understand how he felt once you two got together but he knew you were greatly important to him), was pretty mundane. You're probably the one to do it since he's not super familiar with the concept, at least not beyond a surface level understanding of what it looks like for other people. To you two, it's an intimate moment: you trust him enough to open yourself up to rejection and he cares about you enough to make clear he's interested in you as well. To others, it's a very blunt, robotic moment on his part contrasting to your obvious sentiment. Oh well.

-Anyhow, as for how you to interact once you get together, it's more of the same. A lot of the time, you two are just existing with one another. It would come off as uncaring if it weren't for him seeking you out just to be in your company, even if you're not interacting in any way. He just likes having you there, you make him feel whole in a strange way, something about your presence makes him feel like some wrong has been righted.

-He's a little nosy about your hobbies. If you're reading a book he wants you to tell him about it, if you're making something he wants to know how you're doing it, so on, so forth. He doesn't know why, he just likes to know everything he can about you. If we allow the more sentimental wording to fall, you're like a specimen he needs to learn about and put under a microscope, lovingly.

-His love language, other than time, is gifting things to you, actually. Most times it's odd trinkets he comes across that remind him of you, but its the thought that counts. He takes the utmost care for them to not get ruined before he can gift them to you and you can just barely notice him stand a little straighter when you happily take them. If you have a spot for all the things he's given you, he admires it with pride every time, blame it on bird instincts.

-He often just calls you by your name, he just doesn't think any nickname compares to your actual name. That's the title of the person he loves, what else could compare?

-It takes him a while to warm up to physical affection, so give him some time with that. Once he's settled into a relationship with you, he's a lot more open to any touch you give. He most enjoys whenever you lean on him, he enjoys being someone you can count on for support and comfort. On his part, he's a sucker for you holding his face in your hands, something about it just feels so tender. The way your hands cradle his head just feels so soothing.

-The first time he says 'I love you,' is a whisper, but don't let that fool you into thinking their meaning is any smaller. It's a total declaration of his heart to you, how could he not mean it when you're the light of his life?

[victias]

Small thing i did on the train this morning, its my take on the fade to black scene with angst cos thats how im feeling, I may write the whole scene, I'll see how I feel and if I get the time but it's the first time I've written in years.

The sensation of the sofa felt so alien as she laid back on it exhausted, she’s become accustomed to the harshness of the fade- his prison, which had become hers. All sense of the real world lost in a fever dream of regret. Bellara had told her she’d been gone weeks, but to her it was an instant and an eternity all at once, the only constant was the sound of his voice ringing in her head, begging her to move forward to find him again, of course he wasn’t actually there, no one was there besides her,  she was utterly alone. The memory of him however, the desire to hold him, even just once pushed her forward, he wasn’t the weakness Solas thought when he showed her visions of the assassins body, no he was her strength, her motivation.

He’d been a mess Neve said, but of course he had, she was the only person in this world he truly trusted and she was gone, dead? lost forever? Suffering in a prison designed to hold a god and he’d been too scared to tell her how much he loved her whilst she was in front of him, too worried he’d lose her or hurt her to allow himself to be truly vulnerable. As she lay there her breathing became rapid, tears welling in her eyes and panic beginning to take over, she didn’t want to be alone, how could she even be certain she was out of that place, maybe this was another trick of the prison, of the dread wolf, he’d violated her mind, dragged her in to his prison, manipulated the veilguard and for what? Tears began to stream down her cheeks, breaths only coming in sharp bursts, it hurt, her heart, her head, everything, so much that she didn’t hear the door to her room open.

‘i cannot believe we found you’

And just like in that hell, his voice was her anchor, it pulled her back in to this room, at this time and slowly she sat up to look at the man she loved, the man who, unbeknownst to him, had brought her home.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 365

Adjective: Gentle

Noun: Reaper

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Gentle: having or showing a mild, kind, or tender temperament or character; moderate in action, effect, or degree, or not harsh or severe; (of a slope) gradual; (archaic) (of a person) noble or having the qualities attributed to noble birth, or courteous and chivalrous

Reaper: a person or machine that harvests a crop; short for Grim Reaper

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 784: The first day's mountain

Pag 1

3: We're passing through the riverside road

4: I see it

6: Kaka

7: Ah!!

8: Teh!

9: It's the first day's

Pag 2

1: “mountain”!!

Pag 3

2: As we “promised”!!

Pag 4

3: It's the “first day's mountain stage”!!

4: A year ago

6: Manami-kun said it after the finish line, on the third and last day of the Inter High, when both of us were all worn out and barely still on our bikes

Pag 5

1: But having our race at the end on the final stage is too much pressure

2: Next year, if we both have the chance to run in the Inter High....

3: …. yeah

4: Let's race for the mountain stage on the first day

Yeah

5: Like Toudou-san and Makishima-san last year

Onoda!!

Manami-san!!

Pag 6

1: Manami!!

Manami-san!!

2: Onoda!!

3: He collapsed!!

Manami!! Take off his helmet

It's okay, I caught him

Onodaa!!

Onoda-san

Do we have a towel?

Danchiku, water!!

4: Next year... the mountain stage on the first day.... yeah

5: Got it....!!

Pag 7

3: When you run along a river....

4: the water only flows if there's a difference in elevation, either uphill or downhill!!

5: Here it's definitely uphill!!

Even if it looks like a flat at first glance, it's gradually climbing!!

Pag 8

1: Toward that mountain!!

Reading the map, it says that it's 5km until the base of the mountain!!

2: 5km!!

3: Don't lose sight of it like last year!!

Yes!! Sorry!!

4: Hold on tight!!

5: 'Cause I'll carry you all the way to the foot of the mountain!!

Pag 9

1: Thank you!!

2: “Positioning”....!!

3: When going from a flat to a climb you need to “position” yourself

Each team accelerates from the flats in order to bring their climbers to a good position

4: It's the so called “mountain's launching pad”!!

5: There will be a difference of several hundred meters in the first stage between a climber who was launched near the front of the group and a climber who was made to run up from the back of the group

Pag 10

1: Bring Onoda to the best possible position, Naruko!!

Oh-

Sohoku is moving up!!

Pag 11

1: -ruaaaagh

Ugh!! Sohoku's Naruko is so fast!!

2: I get what you're tryin to say, Hotshot!!

I'll take him!! Definitely!!

3: That's why I left the first result to Kabu!!

4: On that winter day, with an apologetic face

5: Ah....

6: Ah- uhm, I have something to tell you, but

Onoda-kun, who told us like it was difficult to say....

Pag 12

1: Ah the stove? You can just turn it off, we're the last ones

Yeah, please. Woah, look outside, it's snowing

Seriously? It must be cold

2: That's not it!!

3: Th-th- this morning... I got a text

4: What was that, an acceptance letter?

The proficiency exam?

5: It's a reply to the text I sent....

6: Three months ago!!

7: Uhm... really, I was worried that back when we made that promise it was right after the race and we were tired, so I thought maybe he had forgotten

Three months?

It was a long wait

So I sent him a text to ask him if he remembers?

Pag 13

1: And I received it this morning

Must be the proficiency test

Shut up!!

What are you whispering idiot

“Back when”, when was it?

No idea

2:He said only one word, “of course”

4: So, uhm... this time

5: Is it okay if I run for the first day's mountain stage during this summer's Inter High?

7: Is that so? Kakaka

Onoda-kun's eyes, like he couldn't contain his excitement...

Pag 14

1: I haven't forgotten it!!

2: I can't forget it!!

3: Onoda!!

Onoda-kun!!

Pag 15

1: 2km left until the foot of the mountain!!

2: Do your beeest....!!

Aren't they climbing at an amazing speed!? Each team is getting in line!!

Yeah, you're right!!

3: Every team is trying to “position” themselves for their climbers!!

“Position”!?

4: Also, look closely

Right now, the cyclist in the second position in the ranks

Pag 16

1: is the one who will race in the mountain stage!!

Pag 18

1: Oi, are you kidding me? Hakogaku is sending Manami?

From the first day!?

Manami is in second place

2: He's the “final boss”....!!

3: My dream of getting the red bib has been destroyed even before reaching the foot of the mountain....!!

4: Oi, look over there, that's not all!!

For Sohoku....

5: Naruko is pulling the “King of the mountain”!!

Wa- we're done for!! Completely!! My mountain prize!!

Pag 19

3: Manami-kun!!

4: Sakamichi-kun!!

Pag 20

1: It's time for our promise!!

We're almost at the foot of the mountain!!

[junosmindpalace]

FOR YOU, FOREVER AGO

🎧 take a piece of my heart and make it all your own.

pairing: arthur morgan x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

synopsis: arthur, and the notes he leaves in the books he gifts you. who could have figured love can transcend time?

content: established relationship, reading, reading and some more reading (together), soft and playful love, fluff with some angst at the end (arthur's death mentioned). reader is briefly said to be wearing a chemise.

a/n: i said i wouldn't write him again and here i am. writing him again. because this game has taken up so much of my writing headspace...

There’s an old saying that Arthur has heard retold in various different ways, and it went along the lines of “an idle mind is the devil’s playground.”

It derived from Proverbs 16:27: “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” something he later found out upon overhearing the phrase from the Reverend’s mouth during one of his rare sermons. Arthur doesn’t believe much in any sort of sacred text, but he could, to an extent, believe in that phrase. 

It’s a belief Dutch and Miss Grimshaw hold in especially high regard, and their incessant nagging to do away with him loitering about in the camp proved that. And while he agrees that it is necessary for everybody to do their part, Arthur spends much of his time out involving himself in all kinds of tough and weary business, and like anyone else, sometimes the enforcer needed a break. 

Though it seemed so to quite many people, Arthur’s mind was not solely fixated on his life of crime. Like many other people he was a man of love, who enjoyed reveling in Mother Nature’s beauty, and memorializing its likeness in his journal in gorgeous detail, too. He enjoyed lingering in on conversations that took place around him; mundane things like about rumors and town happenings, though they weren’t always pleasant. And above all else, he enjoyed being around you. 

Scare was the time to enjoy such leisure with your responsibilities, however. Often, he would return to camp well into the dead of night or during wind down time you had permitted for yourself (because Lord knows Grimshaw wouldn’t) to entertain your mind. Borrowing from the collections of books around camp was one of few forms of amusement you relied upon for some sort of satisfying stimulation.

Arthur couldn’t help but sometimes be jealous of this. To enjoy the leather cover of a book against his fingertips and the patches of sweetgrass and lavender enclosed around him like a makeshift bed was a luxury he could rarely afford. Yet still, he found ways to incorporate his own amusement to look forward to when he did have the off time to enjoy it.

The habit, at first, was a means of compensating for his long absences. It was almost his way of giving you a piece of his heart to hold to your chest, fill your mind, make your own with your wild imagination while he was away for sometimes frightening days at a time. 

Arthur provided you with literature of all sorts, from dime novels to hardcover books, when he encountered them on his travels. Mythology retellings, exaggerated tales of the fictionalized Wild West, dramatic historical fiction with royalty, castles, and dragons, and the sort of philosophy books Dutch enjoys reading passages aloud from that critique civilization. Each one, though unique in content, held a message with consistent love that made your heart swell and your lips stretch into a pleasant smile at the intent behind them. 

Couldn’t resist. 

Thought you’d like this one. 

All my love. 

Thought of you. 

For you to enjoy when I’m away.

To keep you preoccupied while I’m gone.

To make up for lost time. 

It's late when Arthur finds time to enjoy the stories with you, propped up on his side in the while his other arm is draped loosely around your waist as you lay in the same position, holding the book the two of you were enamored with in one hand. The firelight illuminates the pages for him to read from over your shoulder, his fingers brushing over your stomach and arms absentmindedly as he immerses himself in the world along with you. 

“This gentleman sure is a character.” 

“Ain’t he?” you snicker, taking the comment as an indicator to turn to the next page. “Almost reminds me of someone.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he raises a brow at you, observing your expression with a tilt of his head.

“Nothin’ at all.” you hum innocently, pretending to fix your attention back onto the pages. He catches your bluff when he teasingly curls his arm around your waist and presses you closer against his chest, invoking a squeal of laughter from you as he ruffles your chemise. 

“Just turn the page.” he chuckles with a slight shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, but when you meet his playful gaze with one of your own, any further teasing dies on his tongue as his breath becomes lodged at the sight of your glow in the firelight. 

“Okay.” you tut with a raise of your brows, resituating yourself and leaning further into his grasp, to which he responds by hugging you closer. 

When your time wasn't spent under the stars, it was in your tent. Accompanied in your shared bedroll was a book from a marketplace stand you had picked out together when scouting around town. One of Arthur’s hands holds it on his stomach with his fingers at the bottom, while his other holds your shoulder soothingly. You lay your head over his heart, listening to its steady pulsing, and following the small text with tired eyes to lull you to sleep. 

Sometimes he read to you, when your eyes grew too heavy to look up at him, and your brain was too exhausted to form coherent enough thoughts, let alone conversation. He'd read with his free hand, voice gradually becoming husky with thick exhaustion of his own the more he read on. 

“Why’d you stop?” you murmured to him as you lulled you head up to look at him, briefly slipping into fuller consciousness when taking note of the absence of his voice amidst the evening chill.

“Thought you’d fallen asleep,” he replied, rubbing a hand up and down the side of your arm before planting a kiss on your forehead. You only shook your head.

“A little more?”

Arthur peered outside through a crevice in his tent to the pitch black, redirecting his attention back to you with a sigh. “Alright. But only a little.”

Sometimes you read to him, when he returns to the campsite with his brain scrambled from the hat and madness of his travels, and longs, almost on autopilot, for your presence and an extended period of rest. With his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, legs tangled on your sides and head snug against your stomach, you propped up one of the books you had borrowed from Mary-Beth, a romance that you could always rely on to knock Arthur out, with one hand, while the other carefully threads through his locks of brown hair.

“That sounds like a nice place to live, don’t it? In a house with a white picket fence and a beautiful garden.” You had asked him quietly one of those nights, looking down at his still figure, who merely hummed in response against your stomach. “Maybe outta the country.”

“And go where?” he replied drowsily, peering up at you through small eyes.

“I don’t know…surprise me.” you teased, and Arthur chuckled.

“Maybe someday, sweetheart.” he placed a kiss on the fabric of your night wear, letting out a sigh as he adjusted himself against you again. “Maybe someday we’ll go somewhere real nice.”

Amidst ever changing lives—periods of transition and transformation and hard feelings and new hopes and dreams—you made sure to often revisit his little notes kept in between the first few pages of a book picked out with you in mind and written with all the care you had to offer to one another. Nights apart we’re spent tracing the loving words with your eyes, running a nail through the loopy font. It reminds you that you lay under the same stars, the both of you wishing to reunite sooner than later upon one of the billions that twinkled in the sky. 

When Arthur had passed under the dying night sky, the menial, but important, declarations of love became lost to you. 

Focusing on anything outside of survival seemed impossible afterward, and the grief was all too fresh and thought consuming. Most of the time was spent rebuilding your life to the best of your ability, something not quite what you had envisioned in hopeful late night conversations with Arthur, but more bare minimum. No beautiful porch with a nice garden, no homey furnishings. Only a simple bungalow with a creaky bed and a bag of few possessions you managed to snag in your abrupt departure.

At the bottom of the bag one day, you find something, no, many things, you had not laid your eyes upon since before the hope of a new dawn was extinguished within you. 

It had been the first time you had felt an urge to be productive. For most of your days were spent in melancholy and anxious paralyzing thought that kept asking, what’s next?

You held them in your hands carefully, turning them over before opening them curiously, only to have your breath hitched when your eyes landed on the front.

Couldn’t resist.

You scrambled for another.

Thought you’d like this one.

Another, and then another. All of them until the reminders brought you to tears.

All my love.

Thought of you.

For you to enjoy while I’m away.

To keep you preoccupied while I’m gone.

To make up for lost time.

The rest of the night became dedicated to remembering all that you once had, and that you were once determined to have. Reading stories that always seemed as fantastical as your dreams of a sweeter life, perhaps where they even derived from. The inspiration and hope they fuelled gradually returned with each memory you recounted of your shared dream with Arthur.

He had given it to you in the end. Taken you some place nice, even if he wasn’t there himself to enjoy it with you. He’d given you a piece of his heart all those years ago, and you made it your own. Given you the resources—just enough money and a whole lot of love—to help you realize a life you always wanted. He was there; in the blooming flowers, in the magnificent dawn and dusk, in the pages of books you held carefully between your fingers. And you’d remind yourself of it every night with a trace of your fingers over his scrawled messages of adoration.

return to masterlist.

[pangyham]

been thinking about the liyue gang and how id draw their physical builds so here are some thoughts i had for xy cy and gm in particular

- xingqiu, unsurprisingly, would be quite lanky. i like to think he has broad-ish shoulders, like a thin athlete's build? hes a long boy to me haha, long face, neck, limbs, fingers etc, so naturally hes stands (comparatively) tall at 5'6" or 5'7"

i like to think hes most physically attractive one and has that handsome princely and boyish charm to him because it adds a lot to his fuckass duality LOL

- chongyun is a lot like xiao imo! short stature but with muscular arms. he seems nimble and flexible because of his normal attack animations (which bears a lot of similarities to xiao's actually! this + the fact that chongyun's normal attacks create gusts of wind further reinforces my hc that xiao trains him). sometimes i watch high energy choreography vids on youtube and some dancers look incredibly light on their feet, almost like their body is inherently bouncy? and i imagine chongyun to have that agility to him. chongyun has a delicate face and aura and i let that bleed into my hcs for his fighting style and physical capabilities hahaha. hes kind of like a cat who's deceptively strong. as for height.. just a few inches taller than xiao, so perceptibly short at 5'4"

- ga ming my new beloved. pretty much similar to chongyun but more muscular and stronger just because he wields his claymore with ease. theres a noticeable weight different between cy and his claymore the way he lugs it up after he swings (or even other claymore users like razor who, on his last hit, bounces from impact). meanwhile ga ming literally slams his to the ground LOL. i love his movements though hes very swift and expressive and radiant.. if cy has delicate movements then ga ming's is fierce and (charmingly!) assertive

ga ming is wonderfully charismatic though, i know hes not well known in liyue harbor yet, but he seems like the type to gain a reputation from his friendliness. how could no one adore him hahaha. 5'5" for height! just between xy and xq

[dangaer]

shi.n's amnesia later route is such an out of character experience bc wdym someone this cute shows me all the love they have for me and i dont healthily communicate with him that im feeling overwhelmed by it.

[izuizzy]

I’m cooking (writing another au fic lol)

[usercelestial]

okay i feel like i'm moving out of my mourning phase and into my acceptance phase and if you aren't there yet or never will be that's okay, take your time, turn off your asks, step away from social media or even this show is necessary, especially right now we all need our coping mechanisms and if this severely damaged one of your coping mechanisms, as i know it did mine, it's okay to step back and find something else you're passionate about.

that being said, i had a lot of fun with this ship, i started writing again, i felt way more engaged with a show i started to feel disillusioned with and reconnected with why i love it (while still being reminded of why i began to feel disillusioned to begin with). i made some incredibly talented mutuals along the way. it's not over because all of this fake and buck and tommy live in my head forever. no one can take away your positive experiences, i promise. no one can take away how meaningful this relationship was. no one can take away your enjoyment even though they may try. and while we won't see them again on our screen, we will always have the content we were given and the story that was told, and for me, that's helping me heal from my disappointment in both the show and the fandom. love you all, and i hope we can keep bucktommy alive in fandomville <3

[ssreeder]

My life has been a mess recently and the only keeping me going currently is LIAB like I get up in the morning so I can continue reading it so I want to greatly thank you for such an incredible fic. I just started Into the fire and I’m suffering thank you! <3333

AWWWWWW YOU ARE SO WELCOME!!! I have been a bit in a funk & writing has been such a nice escape! So i’m glad it can bring us both joy!

I hope you enjoy ITF oh yeah it starts roughhhh but it gets much better! (Before it will get rough again - but hopefully not nearly as bad for our boys <3)

thanks for stopping by to send me this ask you’re amazing!!!!

[cosmicrhetoric]

i don't know if fishman island era sanji is genuine flanderization or im somehow giving him too much and too little credit at the same time. and maybe i was just frustrated that he regressed so bad after two years on Gender Island when i erroneously assumed (after watching iva + co at impel down express that queerness is as close to the ultimate ideal of freedom that one piece is about as you can get) that he would be better for the experience. and i know im going to turn around on him by the time i get to whole cake island but literally brother can we cut this shit out lmao

[dayurno]

are you going to read tsc when it comes out? and, if not: would you like your acolytes to give you the important kevin day updates or would you rather not?

oh my acolytes huh! well i don’t know :) it’s so nice of you to ask and i’m very touched actually…. nice to me 🥹…. i guess any (good) kevin updates would be nice and probably sway the balance on whether i read it or not, but at first glance i probably won’t read it unless it sparks my curiosity once it’s out and the story starts making its rounds around my circles :) i’m plenty interested in the period where jean stays with the foxes but i don’t much care for the trojans nor the proposed storyline*, though even a picky reader like yours truly can be convinced into buying a story if kevin day’s in it

*by this i don’t mean that i Dislike the process of jean healing but it’s just overall not my favorite theme and, to be frank, i don’t have much interest in reading about a normal well-adjusted team either. from my view tsc is aftg without my favorite parts (namely kevin day as a main character, the foxes’ messy dynamic, problematic and controversial side characters, neil’s narration, The Mafia, andrew in general) and while i am always and forever a ride or die for jean moreau, and i am glad he’s going to get better and be happy, a lot of my feelings for him don’t really stem from the idea that there is a softness underneath all the grit but actually and sincerely the fact that he is crazy. i Love jean because he’s horrible and scared and cruel and i don’t know if i’ll care much for him once he’s out of that state :) i meant it when i said a few months ago that i would’ve been more onboard with a story about the ravens (no matter how gruesome) or even a glimpse of jean’s pov in the nest, though of course nora sakavic should probably choose to be happy every once in a while so i wouldn’t ask her to write that

so tl;dr: you can send me good and relevant kevin updates if you want to and if they’re interesting enough i might read tsc in the future