#devastatingly funny to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyuuberryy · 22 days ago

Text

no doubt !

loser!enhypen's reaction to your confession + their down bad behaviour

genre: completely fluff, slight crack

warnings: self doubt, very little stuttering

note: live, laugh, love hot loser men

word count: 2.3k

i love reading your comments and reblogs, so please do so if you liked reading this<3

HEESEUNG

heeseung was the guy who always sat in the back of the library, oversized hoodie pulled up and earbuds blasting lo-fi playlists. not because he was trying to look cool and aloof—he just didn’t know how to talk to people. heeseung’s whole vibe screamed ‘leave me alone’, and yet, you were drawn to him. maybe it was the way his big glasses always slid down his nose or how he’d stammer when the librarian asked if he needed help. there was a sweetness to his awkwardness, a genuine quality that made him stand out(not to mention how devastatingly handsome he was).

you started leaving him little sticky notes on the library desk when he wasn’t looking, simple messages like “nice doodles!” or “your handwriting is cute<3” the day he caught you in the act, his face turned the color of a ripe tomato.

“you think my handwriting’s c-cute?” he stuttered, practically vibrating with nervous energy.

a bit nervous, you laughed and nodded. “yeah, i do. and i think you’re cute too.”

heeseung froze, his pen dropping to the table. “wait, you… you think i’m cute?” he sounded so disbelieving it was almost funny.

when you confessed that you liked him, he spent two weeks in disbelief, constantly asking if you were joking. but after you assured him that no, you weren’t pulling some cruel prank, he became utterly devoted. he’d text you good morning every day, walk you to your classes while carrying your books (even when you insisted you could manage), and write you poetry—the kind of cringe, over-the-top poetry that made your heart melt anyway.

heeseung was the kind of boyfriend who’d get embarrassingly jealous but try to hide it. if someone so much as glanced at you for too long, he’d fidget nervously and mumble something about how they were probably just admiring how amazing you were. and if you hugged him in public? forget it. he’d be grinning like an idiot for the rest of the day.

when he wasn’t nervously doting on you, he was daydreaming about your future together. he’d scribble little sketches of the two of you in his notebook, complete with hearts and statements like “me + you = forever.” if you teased him about it, he’d turn beet red and try to deny it, but you could see the tiny smile playing on his lips.

rest is under the cut!

JAY

jay was the guy in your science class who thought he could blend in by keeping his head down. what he didn’t realize was that his nervous habits were endearing: the way he’d mumble answers to himself during group work or adjust his glasses every 30 seconds. he was always sketching random diagrams in his notebook—half for class, half because he was too awkward to make conversation.

you had a crush on him because, despite his shyness, there was something magnetic about the way he focused—his brows furrowing as he sketched diagrams in his notebook, the faintest pout forming on his lips when he was deep in concentration. one time, you caught him organizing the classroom supplies, his long fingers deftly sorting through tape dispensers and markers while muttering something about order.

when you mentioned you liked him, jay blinked at you like he couldn’t comprehend the words. “me? like me, me?” he asked, pointing to himself.

you nodded, trying not to giggle at how wide his eyes had gotten. “yes, you. i think you’re really sweet.”

jay’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he immediately started rambling. “i mean, i… uh, wow, okay, i didn’t expect this. are you sure? like, really sure? because i’m kind of a mess, and—”

once it clicked, though, he was all in. he’d send you paragraphs of text apologizing if he thought he said something wrong, shower you with small, thoughtful gifts (like your favorite snacks or a plant he’d researched how to care for), and eventually worked up the courage to hold your hand—though he’d sweat buckets the entire time.

jay would also start making lists—actual, physical lists—of things he could do to make you happy. “compliment her at least once a day,” “remember her favorite coffee order!,” and “learn how to not be a complete dork >:(” were scrawled on a sticky note tucked into his notebook. and when he wasn’t nervously doting on you, he was daydreaming about you, doodling your initials in the margins of his notes.

very soon, he was down-bad for you, which was evident through his real life and his social media activities. he’d post the cheesiest captions about you, like “can’t believe i’m dating the most amazing person in the world” with a blurry photo of the two of you. his friends teased him mercilessly, but he didn’t care. to him, you were worth every bit of embarrassment. late at night, he’d re-read your old texts and smile like an idiot, convinced he was the luckiest person alive.

JAKE

jake was a lovable mess. he wore mismatched socks, always seemed to forget his pencil, and somehow managed to trip over air at least once a day. his “plan” to talk to you involved him awkwardly hovering near your desk and pretending to need help with math problems he already knew how to solve. you knew from the start he was a bit of a loser—but that’s exactly why you liked him along with you finding everything he did adorable.

“wait, wait,” he said when you told him you were into him. “you like me? like, romantically? or is this a ‘pity me’ situation?”

after realizing you genuinely liked him, jake became a golden retriever in human form. he’d facetime you at random hours just to say hi, take you on chaotic “dates” that involved him occasionally tripping over things in public, nervously ordering food for you both and all silly fun activities like arcade games and amusement parks. it was never a dull day with him! after your first kiss, he couldn’t stop grinning for hours, texting his friends in all caps: “GUYS I JUST KISSED THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AAHJKHSSSK”

jake’s down-bad behavior reached new levels when he started making playlists for every possible mood you might have: “songs to cheer you up,” “songs that remind me of you<3,” and even “songs to study to (but only if you want to study with me):3” he’d even text you mid-class to tell you he missed you, even if you’d just seen each other that morning.

jake was also the kind of boyfriend who’d insist on carrying your bag even when it was clear it was too heavy for him. “i’ve got this!” he’d say, wincing slightly but refusing to let you take it back. and if you ever mentioned feeling sad or stressed, he’d immediately panic, asking, “what can i do? tell me, and i’ll do it!” he’d even write you little notes with nerdy jokes or doodles to make you smile, slipping them into your locker or bag for you to find later.

SUNGHOON

sunghoon thought he was slick, but his ‘cool guy’ act was so transparent it was almost cute. he’d lean against the lockers during breaks, pretending not to notice you, but the way his ears turned red every time you walked by gave him away. despite his awkward attempts at being aloof, you found his loser tendencies adorable: like how he’d secretly google pickup lines but chicken out before using them.

when you confessed your feelings, he genuinely choked. “wait, you like me? oh wow… you have bad- I MEAN great taste ahem.” he spent a solid week trying to act nonchalant, but once you started dating, his loser side came out full force. he’d ask you to “rate his outfits” before dates, send you selfies captioned “just thinking about you bbg,” and blush furiously every time you complimented him. sunghoon may have tried to act smooth, but deep down, he was utterly whipped.

sunghoon would also start practicing ways to compliment you in the mirror—only to mess it up completely when the time came. “y-you look… uh, very… beautiful? no, wait, gorgeous! that’s the word i meant!” and everytime you smiled at him, he’d be texting his friends, “she smiled at me again!!!!! i’m gonna pass out.”

his devotion extended to doing the smallest things for you, like bringing you your favorite drink or snacks without you asking. he’d even memorise your schedule so he could “accidentally” bump into you between classes, claiming it was coincidence even though the timing was suspiciously perfect. at night, he’d lay awake replaying your conversations, smiling at the ceiling like the lovesick fool he was.

SUNOO

you had noticed sunoo always sitting at the edge of friend groups, laughing along but never quite joining in. he was bubbly and fun but had an air of self-doubt that made him endearing. you started noticing how he’d always bring extra snacks to share with classmates or go out of his way to compliment people—little acts of kindness that made your heart flutter. not to mention his angelic beauty, that had you look twice the first time you had seen him standing near the water cooler awkwardly.

it was hard not to develop a crush and when you told sunoo you liked him, he’d blink in disbelief. “no way. you’re joking, right?” but after realising you were serious, he’d giggle nervously and hide his face in his hands. once you started dating, he became the most attentive boyfriend ever, remembering every small detail about you and hyping you up like you were the main character. he’d also send you cheesy tiktoks at 2 a.m. with captions like, “this is so us babe ><”

sunoo was head over heels for you, the literal epitome of “she fell first but he fell harder”. he did adorable things like creating a secret pinterest board filled with date ideas and texting you pictures of cute animals with captions like, “look, it’s us in 50 years!” he also started learning how to bake just so he could surprise you with your favorite treats—though most of his attempts ended in chaotic, flour-covered disasters.

if you ever seemed upset, sunoo would go into full panic mode, showering you with compliments and doing everything in his power to cheer you up. “you’re the most amazing person i’ve ever met,” he’d say earnestly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. he even kept a list on his phone of all the things you’d mentioned liking, just so he could surprise you when you least expected it.

JUNGWON

jungwon was the class president who seemed to have it all together—but his close friends knew better. he was the guy who’d trip over his words during speeches, carry five planners because he kept losing them, and stress over things like forgetting to bring tape for a poster project. you liked him because, despite his loser-ish tendencies, he had a heart of gold and worked hard to make everyone feel included.

when you told him you had a crush on him, jungwon’s first reaction was to nervously laugh. “wait, me? are you sure? why would you do that to yourself!?” once he accepted that you really liked him, he became the sweetest boyfriend imaginable. he’d plan thoughtful dates (that inevitably went slightly wrong but ended up being more fun because of it), leave you encouraging notes in your locker, and get adorably flustered every time you kissed him.

jungwon also started creating “motivational speeches” for you, writing them out on notecards and practicing in the mirror before giving them. “i believe in you,” he’d say earnestly, fumbling to hand you a little note that said, “you’re amazing, and don’t you forget it.” if you teased him about it, he’d bury his face in his hands and mumble, “stop, you’re embarrassing me…”

his love didn’t stop there. he’d stay up late researching ways to make your life easier, like creating color-coded study guides or finding fun new spots to take you on dates. and if anyone dared to speak poorly of you, jungwon would step up, surprising everyone with his sudden fierceness. “they don’t know what they’re talking about,” he’d say, his tone protective and unwavering.

NI-KI

ni-ki was the quiet gamer boy who’d rather blend into the background than be noticed. he wore the same hoodie every other day and constantly had earbuds in, even when they weren’t playing anything. you liked him because of how unpretentious he was—and how his eyes lit up whenever he talked about something he loved, like a new game or a random meme he found hilarious.

when you told him you were into him, ni-ki almost dropped his controller. his eyes narrowed into a glare, “are you sure you’re not messing with me? did jake tell you about my crush?” after he realised what he had said, he immediately scampered away leaving you standing there confused. once he got over his initial shock, he became your biggest simp. he’d send you memes that reminded him of you, let you beat him at games (even though he’d deny it), and randomly text you “you’re so pretty” at the most unexpected times. around his friends, he’d brag about you non-stop, showing off pictures of you with a proud grin.

once he was down bad for you, he became hell bent on learning how to cook your favorite meals—even though he’d never cooked before in his life. “how hard can it be?” he’d say, only to panic five minutes in and call you for help. he also started staying up late to design matching gamer tags for the two of you, insisting that everyone online needed to know you were his.

in quiet moments, ni-ki would open up about how much you meant to him, his voice soft and a little shaky. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you, but i’m not letting go.” and if you ever showed up to surprise him during his gaming sessions, he’d immediately log off, saying, “sorry, guys, my priority is here,” as he turned his full attention to you.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @soobnuuy @senascoooop @moafloribunda @lunalovesstories

@firstclassjaylee @levandright @fancypeacepersona @mirouie

@gaonashi @firstclassjaylee @kkamismom12 @evandsolo

2K notes · View notes

sexbot300 · 9 months ago

Text

telling them they have a small dick!

pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)

⤷ 18+, MDNI

tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.

a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)

═════════════════════

Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary

Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’

Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.

Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it.

A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”

With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.”

In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.

“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.

Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.

He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.

My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to.

Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”

He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.

“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?”

Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?”

“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.

Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.

“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”

“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.

Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.

“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary.

Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”

With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”

A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”

“W-what?” Your voice croaked.

“They’re unreliable.”

“Want to know something else funny?”

Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.

He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”

On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar.

Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek.

Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.

Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.

“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling.

It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out.

“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.”

Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.

“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”

All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression.

“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”

“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”

He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”

“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”

Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.

He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”

You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.

Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.

“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”

“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this.

Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.

“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”

Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull.

“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.

“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”

“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl”

“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.

Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.

“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.

Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.

“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.

“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below.

“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.”

Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.

Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.

“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”

═════════════════════

Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date

“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.

Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort.

Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was.

Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.

Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand.

A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.

Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight.

My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.

His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more.

‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’

Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before.

“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end.

“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor.

Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.

Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard.

“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”

Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.

Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.

Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.

“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.

“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body.

Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core.

While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.

Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own.

“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands.

Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?”

Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”

Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.

Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”

Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs.

It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.

Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.

Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”

Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you.

He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.

For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been.

Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.

“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”

3K notes · View notes

pixieolives-blog · 13 days ago

Note

Omg.

vi x reader angst where reader and vi had something before lockup (maybe reader was desperately looking for her/a body for years and never got with anyone else because they loved vi). first time they see vi again, they’re kissing cait. vi has to make a choice (mayhaps someone tells vi how much, how long and how deep reader still loves vi)

SORRY THIS ASK IS LONG BUT NO ONE WRITES VI X CAIT X READER ANSGT AND IM FEENING FOR ITTTT CA

I’VE LOVED YOU FOR SO LONG | vi x fem!reader, angst, squint of fluff, wc: 10k | masterlist

content warnings: not much! angst!!!, brief caitvi, childhood friend!vi, firelight kinda!reader, tiny mention of blood, bit of an open ending, uhhhhh ….

note: sorry this took so long but i hope u like it! (struggled a bit with the ending so i left it kind of open and hopeful :P

Growing up in the Lanes was never easy. The air was always thick wit smog and desperation. But somehow, in the middle of all the grime, there were moments of light—moments that felt almost normal… sweet, even.

For Vi, those moments often came when she was with you.

You were the kind of person who seemed to radiate something soft, something pure, even in a place as unforgiving as here. You were always helping someone—patching up a scraped knee, sharing what little food you had, or offering a warm smile that could ease even the sharpest edges of the Lanes’ harsh reality. Vi, on the other hand, was tough as nails, like she always was. But when it came to you, that toughness often cracked, revealing a gentler side that few people ever got to see.

You met when you were both kids, barely old enough to understand the full weight of the world you were born into. Vi had just finished scrapping with a group of older kids who had tried to steal a loaf of bread from Powder. Her knuckles were bloody, and her lip was split, but she wore her bruises with pride as she swaggered down the street.

Then she saw you—someone small and delicate crouched beside a stray cat with a limp, gently wrapping its leg with a strip of cloth you’d torn from your own sleeve. Vi had stopped in her tracks, her usual bravado faltering as she watched you work with such careful concentration. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone show that kind of… tenderness.

“Hey,” she had said, her voice rough but curious, “what’re you doing?”

You looked up at her, your eyes wide and a little startled, but then you smiled. “Helping,” you said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

From that moment on, Vi couldn’t seem to stay away from you.

She’d show up wherever you were, always with some excuse—she was just passing through, or she needed your help with something, or she was making sure no one was giving you trouble. In truth, she just liked being around you. You didn’t flinch when she got into fights, didn’t scold her for her temper or her stubbornness. Instead, you had this way of looking at her, like you could see past all of that to the person she really was. And Vi, who had always felt like she had to be tough to survive and protect her family, found herself wanting to be softer when she was with you.

The two of you became inseparable, spending your days exploring the winding alleys and hidden corners of the Lanes. Vi would teach you how to throw a punch, insisting that you needed to know how to defend yourself. You’d laugh as she guided your fists, her hands warm and steady against yours, though she always ended up pulling her punches when it came to sparring.

“Can’t risk messing up that pretty face of yours,” she’d tease, though her voice would always carry a hint of something serious, like the idea of you getting hurt was unbearable to her.

“You’re an idiot,” you’d say back.

And she’d laugh, nudging you playfully against your shoulder, her all ears red as she looked at you, “But I’m your idiot.”

You, in turn, taught Vi the value of kindness, though you didn’t do it with words. You did it with your actions—with the way you’d stop to help a stranger, even when you didn’t have much to give, or the way you’d bandage up Vi’s cuts and bruises after a fight, your touch so gentle it made her chest ache. She’d sit there, watching you work, and wonder how someone like you could exist in a place like this.

And it also helped that Powder adored you too.

She’d often tag along on your adventures with her wide-eyed curiosity. You had a way of making her feel seen, of treating her like she was just as capable and important as the rest of you, and that meant the world to her. Vi loved watching the two of you together, the way you’d laugh and tease each other, the way you’d patiently explain things to Powder when she didn’t understand. It made Vi’s dreams of a better life feel almost tangible, like maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more than survival.

And then there were the jobs… or whatever she could get from Ekko.

They were never easy—running contraband, sneaking into places she had no business being. Vi loved the adrenaline of it, the thrill of a plan coming together, but there was always a part of her that thought about you while she was out there. She’d see something—a trinket, a piece of candy, a flower growing stubbornly in the cracks of the pavement—and she’d think of you.

She started bringing things back for you, little gifts she’d pretend didn’t mean anything. The first time, it was a shiny button she found while breaking into a some storage room. It was small and completely useless, but it was the kind of thing she thought you’d like. She tossed it to you when she came back, trying to act casual.

“Found this,” she said, her voice gruff. “Figured you could use it for… I don’t know, something.”

You’d looked at her, a little confused at first, but when you smiled and said, “Thanks, Vi,” she felt something warm settle in her chest.

After that, it became a habit.

She’d bring you scraps of fabric, little bits of wire and string, or a half-broken gadget Powder thought she could fix up for you. Once, she brought you a single daisy she’d found growing in a crack on the edge of the Lanes. She’d nearly crushed it during the job, and when she handed it to you, she was so embarrassed she couldn’t meet your eyes.

“It’s just a flower,” she mumbled, scratching the back of her neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But you always did. Vi would pretend it didn’t matter, but her ears would turn red, and she’d fumble with excuses about why she’d brought you something in the first place.

She didn’t know how to say what she was feeling, didn’t even fully understand it herself. All she knew was that you made the Lanes feel a little less bleak, a little less hopeless.

And as the years passed, the your relationship with Vi only grew stronger. There were always moments when the certain feelings between you became almost impossible to ignore—like the time you patched her up after a particularly nasty fight, your fingers lingering on her cheek as you wiped away the blood, telling her firmly to always be careful, as your eyes search hers. Or the time she caught you staring at her with that soft look in your eyes and she felt her cheeks flush, her confidence faltering as she looked away, muttering something about how you shouldn’t look at her like that. You’d raise an eyebrow in response, then just laugh softly.

But neither of you ever said anything outright. Instead, you found comfort in the smaller things—stolen glances, the way your hands would brush against each other as you walked side by side, the way Vi’s walls would melt away when it was just the two of you.

You were more than just a friend. You were her safe place, her reminder that there was still good in the world, even in the darkest corners of the Lanes. And for you, she was your protector, your anchor, the person who made you feel like maybe you weren’t as fragile as the world wanted you to believe.

But the Lanes always had a way of taking everything good and twisting it into something painful.

The night everything went to shit was the last time life in the Lanes felt even remotely bearable. It had been tense from the start. Vander was gone, taken by Silco, and Vi’s face was set in that grim determination she always wore when she was trying to be strong for everyone else. You knew she was scared, no matter how much she tried to hide it.

You were in the back room of the Last Drop, pacing. Vi had told you to stay put, her voice sharper than usual, her gaze practically boring a hole through you.

“Don’t follow us,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Just… stay here. Look after Powder, okay? I can’t worry about you and her while we’re out there.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her you could help, that you weren’t as fragile as she thought you were. But the look in her eyes stopped you. So, you nodded, biting back the words you wanted to say, and watched her leave with Mylo and Claggor.

Powder sat on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, clutching one of her gadgets like it was a lifeline. She kept glancing at the door like she was expecting Vi to come back at any moment, triumphant and unscathed.

But you both knew better.

The hours dragged on, the silence between you and Powder filled only with the occasional sound of glass breaking in the distance or the low hum of Zaun’s underbelly. You tried to keep your hands busy, cleaning up the room, organizing scraps of whatever was lying around. Anything to stop your mind from racing. Powder didn’t really say much; she just watched you with wide, anxious eyes, her fingers fidgeting with the gears of her monkey bomb.

Eventually, exhaustion began to creep in. You figured you were working too much. You remembered Vi’s words in your head, telling you that she’s always careful, that she’ll always come back to you. And you tried to stay awake, tried to keep an eye on Powder like Vi had asked, but your body betrayed you.

Powder had been quiet the whole night, but as you drifted off, she glanced at you. She hated being left behind, hated the way Vi always told her to stay because she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t capable enough. She wanted to prove herself, to show that she could help, that she could save them. And with you asleep, curled up in Vi’s bed, she saw her chance. Quietly, Powder slipped off the couch, grabbing her monkey bomb and a bag of supplies. She hesitated for a moment, looking back at you. She didn’t want to leave you, but she couldn’t sit there and do nothing.

Not when Vi needed her.

She crept out of the room, careful not to make a sound, and disappeared into the shadows.

The first thing you noticed as you stirred was the faint, low rumble of something distant but violent—a sound that felt like it rattled through the very walls of the Last Drop. You blinked, eyes fluttering slowly as you pushed yourself up. The second explosion was sharper, louder, and your heart leaped in your chest. It was a sound that didn’t belong to the Lanes.

Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light of the room. Everything felt too still now, too quiet, except for the faint aftershock of what you had just heard. You rubbed at your face, trying to shake off the grogginess, and then you noticed it—bright, electric blue sparks flickering in the distance, visible through the small, grimy window. Your stomach dropped as a sense of dread washed over you. Your breaths came quicker now, shallow and uneven, as you sat up fully, scanning the room.

“Powder?” you called out softly, your voice hoarse from sleep.

You looked around, the familiar clutter of the space offering no sign of her.

“Powder?” you called again, louder this time, but the silence that followed made your chest tighten.

You stumbled to your feet, nearly tripping over a discarded piece of scrap on the floor. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign that she was still there—a glimpse of her small frame huddled in the corner, the sound of her fidgeting with one of her gadgets.

But there was nothing.

The couch where she’d been sitting earlier was empty, the blanket you’d draped over her crumpled and abandoned. The faint smell of oil and metal lingered in the air, but it was missing the warmth of her presence.

“No, no, no,” you muttered under your breath, your mind racing as you pieced together what must have happened.

You remembered the way she had been clutching that monkey bomb earlier, the way her eyes had flickered with something desperate and restless.

She left.

Your knees nearly buckled as you made your way to the window, pressing your palms against the cold glass. The sparks of blue still flickered in the distance, bright against the dark, polluted haze of the Lanes. The explosions hadn’t stopped, and now there were faint trails of smoke rising into the air.

“Powder,” you whispered, the weight of her name heavy on your tongue.

She had gone after Vi, you were sure of it. The thought hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. She was out there—your sweet, fragile Powder—in the middle of whatever chaos was unfolding.

And Vi… Vi had told you both to stay behind.

Now, you were running as fast as you could.

And when you got there, everything was on fire.

Buildings were crumbling under the weight of the flames, black smoke billowing into the sky and choking the air around you. The heat was suffocating, stinging your eyes and making it hard to breathe. You stood there, frozen, your wide eyes scanning the devastation. The ground was stained with dark, wet streaks that gleamed in the firelight—blood. It was everywhere, smeared across the cobblestones, trailing through the debris, pooling in some places as if marking the spots where someone had fallen.

But there were no bodies.

No sign of Vi. No Mylo. No Claggor. No Powder. Just… nothing.

Your chest heaved as you tried to take it all in, your mind struggling to make sense of the chaos. The silence was deafening, broken only by the relentless crackle of flames and the occasional groan of a collapsing structure. You called out for them. You spent hours waiting, searching and trying.

But, there were no voices, no footsteps, no cries for help.

Just emptiness.

Nothing.

The days blurred into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years. Time moved forward, but you stayed stuck in the same moment—the night everything fell apart. The fire, the blood on the streets, the faces of everyone you loved burned into your memory like scars you couldn’t erase. It didn’t matter how much time passed. You never stopped seeing them. Never stopped feeling the weight of their absence.

Life in the Undercity didn’t wait for grief. It didn’t give you the chance to sit still and process the ache in your chest or the emptiness that had swallowed your world whole. The streets you grew up on were darker now, quieter, yet somehow more dangerous. Shimmer twisted its way into every crack and corner, poisoning the air you breathed.

You still had Ekko. He stuck close, as much as he could, and you were grateful for him in ways you couldn’t put into words. But even with him around, the loneliness lingered anyway.

Nights were the worst. The silence of your small, dimly lit room pressed down on you, and your mind replayed every memory of Vi, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. Sometimes, you could almost hear their laughter echoing in the distance.

Almost.

You never stopped looking for her.

At first, it was constant. Every waking moment you scoured the streets, searching for any trace of her. You asked anyone who would listen if they’d seen her, but no one had. Not a single person could tell you where she had gone or what had happened to her. Some said she was dead. Others said she’d been taken topside, to Piltover’s dungeons. You didn’t know which was worse.

You looked for Powder, too. Sometimes, you felt like you’d seen traces of her somewhere, certain colors she liked, drawings on the wall… It was like she was there, but she wasn’t… like she didn’t want to be found.

And years passed, but the hope never left you. Not fully. Even when the streets seemed colder, even when Ekko begged you to stop putting yourself in danger, you kept searching. You’d walk the streets at night, hood pulled tight over your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of her pink hair or hear her sharp voice in the crowd. Every time you saw a tall figure in the shadows, your heart would leap, only to sink seconds later when it wasn’t her.

You wondered, sometimes, if she was looking for you too. If she was out there somewhere, wondering what had happened to you. If she missed you the way you missed her. Those thoughts were the only thing that kept you going on the hardest days.

The Undercity changed around you. The shimmer trade grew stronger, its effects spreading like a disease. People you’d known your whole life turned hollow, their eyes glassy, their voices slurred. Survival became harder with each passing day. But even as the world around you crumbled, you held onto the memory of Vi.

Her voice. Her laugh. The way she used to look at you when she thought you weren’t paying attention, as if you were something more than just a friend. The way she used to bring you small, silly things from her jobs—half the time things she swore she’d found by accident, even though you knew better.

You missed her so much it hurt.

Then, one night, Ekko came to visit you.

He had news about Powder.

He’d seen her, he said. And it didn’t make sense at first.

He sat across from you in the dim, flickering light of the small hideout you’d both retreated to. His voice was almost hesitant, but heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. Regret? Anger? Grief? Maybe all three, twisted together in a way that made him seem older than he was, like the years had weighed heavier on him than they should have.

You were hunched over, elbows resting on your knees, your face buried in your hands. It had been another fruitless day, searching for a ghost you weren’t sure even existed anymore. Your body ached, your head throbbed, and the emptiness in your chest felt like it might swallow you whole.

And then Ekko said it—he said her name.

“Powder… she’s not the same anymore.”

At first, you thought he meant something else. Maybe she’d grown up like the rest of you, toughened by the streets and the weight of survival. Maybe he’d seen her, and she was angry, distant, bitter about the past. You could’ve handled that. You could’ve understood that.

But that wasn’t what he meant.

“She goes by Jinx now.”

You lifted your head slowly, confusion knitting your brow. “What are you talking about?”

Your voice was sharp, tinged with a nervous laugh that didn’t quite land.

“Powder wouldn’t call herself that. That’s not… that’s not her.”

Ekko’s gaze didn’t waver. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, his expression hard but laced with pain. “It is her. She’s with Silco now.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. “No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “She wouldn’t—she’d never—”

“She’s different, (Y/n).” His voice cracked, just barely, but enough to make you flinch. “She’s not the kid we knew. Silco got in her head, twisted her up. She’s… dangerous now.”

You sat back, your body rigid, your mind spinning. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Powder was sweet, shy, maybe a little clumsy, but always full of love and hope. Powder adored you. Powder idolized Vi. She’d never turn into someone like… like that.

“Where did you hear this?” you demanded, your voice low but trembling. “Who told you?”

“I saw her,” Ekko said flatly. “It’s her, (Y/n). She’s been running with Silco’s people for years. She’s the one behind half the chaos in the Lanes right now. You’ve heard about the explosions, the heists—the people disappearing. That’s Jinx.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

“That’s Powder.”

You stared at him, the words refusing to sink in. It felt like someone had ripped the ground out from under you, leaving you floundering in freefall.

“You’re wrong,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Powder wouldn’t… she wouldn’t do that.”

“I wish I was wrong,” Ekko muttered, his voice thick with bitterness. “But I’m not. She’s gone. The Powder we knew—she’s gone.”

“No,” you snapped, louder this time, anger rising to the surface as your chest tightened with panic. “She’s not gone. She’s just… confused, or scared, or… something. She wouldn’t just…”

Ekko’s face softened, but his eyes were filled with sadness. “I thought the same thing when I first saw her. I wanted to believe she could still come back, that maybe I could fix it. But she’s too far gone. Silco’s got his hooks right into her. She’s not the kid we grew up with anymore. She’s…”

He paused, the words catching in his throat.

“She’s dangerous.”

You shook your head again, your hands trembling as you pressed them against your thighs. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Powder was your friend, your family. She was bright and sweet and full of so much love. She wasn’t… she wasn’t a monster.

The thoughts clung to you every night. Powder—Jinx—had become someone unrecognizable, and you couldn’t stop the questions from flooding your mind. What would Vi think if she knew? Would she be disappointed in you for not doing more, for not stopping Powder before it was too late? Would she think you’d failed her?

Vi. Her name echoed in your mind. You missed her in a way that was so all-encompassing it became a part of you. You missed the way she used to tease you, the way she’d smirk like she had the world figured out, even when she didn’t. You missed patching her up after a fight. You missed how she’d smile at you, telling you that things to brighten your day. You missed everything.

It was only recently that you realized why the ache felt so sharp, so endless. You loved her. You’d loved her for years, even if you hadn’t admitted it to yourself until now. It was why you couldn’t let her go, why no one else had ever been able to fill the void she left behind.

People had tried. There were a few who flirted with you, a few who asked you to dinner or drinks. But you’d always brushed them off, always found an excuse. None of them were her. None of them had her fire, her strength, the way she made you feel seen and safe all at once.

The years hadn’t been kind to you, but you’d done your best to survive, to keep going even when it felt like the world was crumbling around you. You’d thrown yourself into helping Ekko and the Firelights, finding purpose in their mission even when you felt lost.

You patched them up when they were injured, your hands steady as you cleaned wounds and wrapped bandages. You shared what little food you had, sometimes going without so they wouldn’t have to. You became someone they could rely on, even if you didn’t always feel strong yourself.

But that strength went away a couple months later—the day you saw her again. It was something you didn’t prepare yourself for. You hadn’t expected it at all.

The sunlight filtering through the cracks of the hideout’s makeshift roof caught on the edges of your hair as you worked, pulling ripe fruits and vegetables from the small garden that the Firelights had nurtured in secret. The air was damp but fresh, filled with the earthy scent of soil and the faint hum of life. You liked working in the garden—it gave you a moment of peace, a small break from the weight of everything outside.

When you were done, your hands were covered in dirt, and a bead of sweat traced its way down your temple. You wiped your brow with the back of your arm, sighing softly. A few of the others nodded at you in thanks as they carried the baskets of food away. You stayed behind, crouched by the water pump, scrubbing the grime from your hands and under your nails.

The cool water washed over your skin, and for a moment, you let yourself pause, closing your eyes as the sound of the stream drowned out your thoughts. But it didn’t last long. The quiet never did.

Once you were cleaned up, you shook off the weariness and decided to find Ekko. You’d been meaning to talk to him about something—or maybe you just wanted to hear a familiar voice. The hideout could feel suffocating at times, even though it was a sanctuary for many. Ekko had a way of cutting through it, reminding you that there was still something worth fighting for.

But as you made your way through the winding halls of the hideout, you stopped short, your breath catching in your throat.

In one of the side rooms, barely lit by the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the cracks, you saw them.

A girl with blue hair stood close to another figure, her delicate fingers brushing against the cheek of the person in front of her. You couldn’t make out their faces at first, your mind taking an extra second to register what you were seeing. But then the pink hair caught the light, vibrant even in the dim room, and your chest tightened.

Vi.

Your Vi.

And she wasn’t alone.

The blue-haired girl leaned in, her lips brushing against Vi’s in a kiss so soft, so tender, that it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Vi didn’t pull away, her hand resting gently on the girl’s waist, her shoulders relaxing in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

You froze, rooted to the spot, your feet unwilling to carry you forward—or away. Your mind raced, a thousand thoughts clamoring for attention, but none of them loud enough to break through the sudden ache in your chest.

She was here. She was alive. But she wasn’t yours.

You didn’t know whether to cry out, to step into the room and demand an explanation, or to turn and run before they could see you. You wanted to be happy that she was safe, but all you could feel was the slow, creeping weight of heartbreak as it settled over you.

Because in that moment, it was clear—Vi wasn’t yours to miss. Not anymore.

“You have some explaining to do.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, but they spill out before you can stop them.

You stand at the threshold of Ekko’s lab, chest heaving, heart racing in disbelief. The image of Vi with another woman—kissing her, holding her—flashes in your mind and it’s all too much.

Ekko stands abruptly, looking as startled as you feel. His eyes widen, and his hand instinctively scratches at the back of his neck, a nervous tick you’ve known him to do since you were kids.

“I—I was gonna tell you today,” he stammers, voice cracking slightly as he fumbles for his words. “We just got her last night… when we ambushed Jinx…”

Your breath catches, a knot of frustration and hurt tightening in your chest. “You ambushed Jinx? And now you’re bringing Vi back in like this? Without telling me?”

The words come out harsher than you intend, but it doesn’t matter right now. Your mind is spiraling.

Ekko holds up his hands, trying to calm you, his gaze softening. “I was going to tell you! I just… After everything with Jinx… I didn’t know if she was someone I could trust yet.”

His words hit you like a slap, and for the first time since you walked in here, a part of you slows down. After everything that happened, Vi could very well be someone you couldn’t trust. Someone who might have changed in ways you couldn’t understand. It stings to admit, but the doubt starts to creep in. You know Ekko—his loyalty runs deep, but he’s also careful. He always has been. You take a step back, your fists uncurling as you exhale sharply.

You swallow your frustration and let the silence settle between you, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Can we trust her?

The question hangs in the air, unspoken but felt, before you finally speak it.

“So… can we?” Your voice is quieter now, more hesitant. You want to hear reassurance, but you’re not sure if it’ll come.

Ekko doesn’t answer immediately. He exhales, a long, drawn-out sigh that betrays a weariness you hadn’t noticed before. When he finally looks up at you, his gaze holds something you hadn’t expected—a tenderness, a vulnerability. His lips curl into a small, almost wistful smile, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s seeing something you can’t.

“I think so,” he says softly, his voice quiet but steady. “I think we can.”

You sigh, blinking a few tears away.

“Who’s that… that girl she’s with?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

You keep your eyes on the floor, unwilling to meet Ekko’s gaze, because the truth feels like it might crush you. The girl you’ve loved for as long as you can remember, is with someone else now. And it’s hard to wrap your mind around it, let alone confront it head-on.

Ekko’s silence stretches out for a moment, the room growing thick with the tension that neither of you knows how to ease. But then, slowly, his eyes soften, and you can hear the careful way he breathes in, like he’s about to tell you something heavy. His voice is gentle when he speaks, like he’s trying to cushion the blow without sugarcoating it.

“Her name’s Caitlyn,” Ekko says, and there’s a noticeable pause before he continues, as though he’s gathering his thoughts, picking out the right words. “She’s… She’s an enforcer, but…she’s different. I don’t think she’s on Silco’s side.”

Your stomach tightens at the mention of Caitlyn’s name, and you can feel a bitter knot in your throat.You finally glance up at Ekko, your eyes searching his face, desperate for any trace of what this means.

“Are they…?”

Ekko looks at you for a long, quiet moment, like he’s weighing your reaction against his own thoughts. He doesn’t look at you with pity, though; there’s no judgment in his gaze. Just understanding.

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice low. “But I think Vi’s been through a lot. And Caitlyn… I don’t know what they have, but I can’t pretend I understand it. I’m still trying to figure out where Vi stands with all of this… All I know is Vi wants her sister back.”

You can’t look at Ekko anymore. The pain of it is too much, a heavy weight that presses down on you like the sky is collapsing. You back away, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, your hands trembling slightly.

“I thought… I thought she’d come back for me, for us,” you say softly, almost to yourself. The bitterness in your voice is unmistakable.

Ekko doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but you can feel the weight of his sympathy.

Finally, he speaks again, his voice quieter, softer. “I don’t think she’s forgotten you. I think she’s just trying to figure out everything for herself… Besides, she was… actually wondering if you were still around.”

“She was?” Your voice is quieter than you intended, almost shaky as you try to grasp what he just said.

Ekko nods, though his face is filled with something close to guilt, like he knows how this news might break you. “Yeah. She asked about you when she came in… said she didn’t know what happened to you after… everything.”

You let out a shaky sigh, your chest tightening at his words. The weight of it presses down on you, sinking deep.

“Where has she been… all this time?” The question slips out quietly before you can stop it.

Ekko hesitates, his eyes softening as he looks at you. There’s a long pause before he finally answers, each word like a slow puncture to your heart. “Stillwater.”

The name hits you like a punch to the gut. You freeze, unable to process at first, the words echoing in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your skull. It’s a place that steals everything from you, even the will to remember who you were before. Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

Vi… Vi was there?

The thought twists something deep inside you, like a sharp ache that spreads through your chest and down into your stomach. It felt impossible to imagine Vi—your Vi—there. The strong, fearless girl you grew up with, the one who fought for every scrap of life she could hold onto. The thought of her, trapped in that hellhole, stripped of the fire that had always burned in her… it’s unbearable.

“You should… probably be talking to her about all of this.”

You freeze at Ekko’s words, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of speaking to her again, of standing face to face with her after all these years, makes your blood run cold. Your chest tightens, and suddenly, breathing feels like a chore.

“I…” You try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat.

What could you say to her? After all this time? The distance between you both feels impossibly wide now, like a canyon you’ll never be able to cross. The thought of seeing her, of facing the reality of what’s changed, of all the years that slipped through your fingers—it paralyzes you. You want to see her. You want to run to her and hold her, tell her everything you’ve kept locked away for so long, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not ready for that.

Your hands are shaking now, and you clutch at the edge of the table for support, your palms slick with sweat.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” you say.

Your voice cracks under the weight of your own fear. The thought of facing Vi, of seeing her and realizing how much has changed, of feeling the space that’s grown between you both—it feels impossible.

Ekko watches you, his expression softening with understanding, but there’s something else in his eyes, something unreadable.

“I get it,” he says quietly, taking a step closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to rush into anything. I know you’ve been carrying this around for a long time.”

But the truth is, you don’t just carry the weight of all that time apart—you carry the weight of your own fear. Fear that she’ll see you as a stranger. Fear that you won’t know how to talk to her anymore. Fear that everything that once felt so easy between you and Vi will have changed beyond recognition. The thought of her not loving you anymore, or of you not being able to love her the same way, makes your stomach churn.

You bite your lip, unable to finish the thought, as your mind races in a thousand different directions.

“Does she know I’m here?”

Ekko’s gaze shifts, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He looks like he’s struggling with something, something he doesn’t want to say, but he knows he has to. He shifts on his feet, a sigh escaping him as he scratches the back of his neck again, the tension in his posture telling you more than his words ever could.

“I… I told her you’re around,” Ekko finally says, his voice soft but weighed with caution. “Not here exactly, though. I wanted to warn you before…”

Before everything changes.

But a knock at the door stills the air in the room. It’s sharp, sudden, and it cuts through the heavy silence that’s settled between you. You don’t move at first and Ekko hesitates for a moment, then turns, just as the door creaks open.

And then, there she is.

You freeze, unable to breathe, unable to move as your eyes lock onto hers. It’s like the whole world stops for a moment—your heart, your thoughts, everything. She’s standing there, in the doorway, her eyes wide as they sweep over you. It’s as if she’s seeing you for the first time, like she can’t quite believe you’re here. That you’re real.

Her gaze flickers across you—your eyes, your face, the way you’ve changed over the years. You can see the shock in her features, the way her breath catches for a split second before she can speak.

“(Y/n),” she whispers, her voice raw, as if the sound of your name in her mouth is a shock to her as much as it is to you.

There’s a long pause. Neither of you move, neither of you speak, as if neither of you knows how to start, what to say. Vi stands there, her eyes fixed on you, and you can see the wheels turning behind her expression. She doesn’t look the same as the girl you once knew, but her eyes—those blue eyes—are still the same, full of emotions you can’t quite place.

Vi’s eyes trail down your form, and you can see her struggling to hide the way her gaze softens as she takes in how you’ve grown, how you’ve changed. You’re different now—more than just the girl she once knew in the Lanes—but somehow, at the same time, you’re still the same person. The one who was always kind, always caring. The one who had a heart too big for the world they were in.

You watch as her eyes linger on you, not saying a word, just staring. A small breath escapes her lips, like she’s struggling to hold back some emotion, some surge of feelings that are too heavy for her to put into words. She opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it again, like the words are stuck inside her.

“I, um… I have work to do, Ekko.” Your voice cracks, and you can feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes.

You tear your gaze away from Vi, your heart pounding in your chest as if it’s trying to break free. The weight of everything, of all the lost time, of everything you thought you had buried, feels like it’s crashing down on you in waves.

You can’t look at her anymore. Not like this. Not when everything in you is screaming to hold her, to ask her why she left, to beg her to stay. But you can’t. Not yet. Not when the hurt is still so raw.

You turn quickly, brushing past Vi with a sharp movement, your steps frantic, but trying to remain composed. Your heart races in your chest as you feel the heat of her eyes on your back, but you don’t look back. You can’t. The moment you do, you’re afraid you’ll break, and you can’t afford to break now.

The door slams shut behind you, and you can hear the soft echo of your hurried footsteps fading as you walk away. You don’t look up, don’t let yourself feel the weight of the emptiness in the room, even though you know it’s all there.

But you’re not ready. Not yet.

Ekko watches the door for a moment, his gaze thoughtful and a little sad. He doesn’t say anything, knowing that nothing he could say will ease the tension in the room.

Vi stands there, still frozen, her mind processing everything all at once. The way you walked out, the way you didn’t look back, how quickly you shut yourself off. She swallows hard, as if trying to force her emotions to settle. But they don’t. They’re all tangled up in her chest. She wants to go after you. She wants to explain.

“(Y/n)…” Vi whispers the name, barely above a breath, as if saying it out loud will somehow make it real, bring back the girl she thought she had lost forever. “She’s… grown.”

“We all have.”

His eyes flicker to Vi, his expression unreadable. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words, but nothing feels quite right. He knows how this is going to land—knows it’s going to hurt, even though he wishes it didn’t have to be this way.

“I think she saw you and Caitlyn,” he says quietly. “Together, I mean.”

Vi’s body stiffens at the mention of Caitlyn’s name, her eyes snapping to Ekko in disbelief. The shock is instant, followed by a sharp pang of guilt that twists in her chest. Her mind races, trying to make sense of the situation—of the way you had looked at her, of how you had walked out without saying anything more, as if something between the two of you had shattered. And now this. She opens her mouth to speak, but the words get stuck, tangled in her throat.

Ekko slumps back in his chair, his fingers tapping restlessly against the worn surface of his desk. He doesn’t know what to say to either of them. His gaze remains fixed on Vi, her posture still stiff, eyes distant.

“She thinks you’re together…” Ekko looks at Vi with curiosity. “Are you?”

Vi’s heart stutters in her chest, and she looks away quickly, swallowing hard.

“No,” she answers, almost too quickly. “No, we’re not together.”

Her voice wavers slightly, the truth of her feelings suddenly coming to the surface, uninvited but undeniable. Caitlyn is kind and gentle, but it’s never been like that with her. She only met her this week. Vi doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not love—not like what she’s felt, and still feels, for you.

The kiss was… a moment of comfort, of trying to hold onto something familiar in a world that’s changed beyond recognition. It meant nothing. Or at least, it shouldn’t have meant anything. But now, knowing that you’d seen it, knowing that it might hurt you—it stings. And it stings more than she’s willing to admit.

Ekko watches her for a moment and sighs. He knows Vi well enough to see that flicker of something in her eyes, that far-off look, the hesitation that’s always there when she’s thinking about you.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he mutters, “But you do need to talk to her.”

Vi nods slowly, her gaze flicking toward the door again.

“Yeah,” she says quietly, almost as if to herself. “I know. I just… I don’t know what to say. It’s been so long, Ekko.”

Ekko exhales sharply, leaning back in his chair. “She looked for you, you know. She hasn’t stopped. And she’s been alone for a long time too, Vi. She deserves to hear it.”

Vi doesn’t respond. The words hit her harder than she’s willing to admit. She knows Ekko’s right, but the fear of rejection still clings to her like a shadow. She’s afraid of what will happen if she faces you, afraid of seeing that disappointment in your eyes, hearing the anger in your voice. Afraid that even if she tries, it won’t be enough.

She takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settling in her chest.

“I’ll go find her.”

The climb to the top of the tree feels longer than it should, but Vi knows she’s stalling. Her hands grip the wooden edges tighter than they need to as she hauls herself up, each rung feeling like a step closer to a moment she’s not sure she’s ready for. Ekko’s words still echo in her head—She’s probably already up there, and needs the space, but… she deserves to hear from you.

And now, standing at the edge of the makeshift platform high above the Firelights’ hideout, Vi spots you. You’re sitting near the edge, your legs dangling over, one hand resting loosely on the ground for balance. The jukebox below hums softly, sending the faint notes of a melancholy tune drifting up through the cool night air. The lights of the community twinkle far beneath you, and the laughter and chatter of the people below seem like they belong to another world entirely.

Vi freezes for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. You haven’t noticed her yet, and she’s glad for it because it gives her time to take you in.

It’s been years since she’s seen you like this—quiet, lost in your own world. There’s something familiar in the way you tilt your head as you gaze out at the lights below, something achingly reminiscent of the person she remembers from all those years ago. She can’t help but wonder if you’re still the same in other ways, too. If you still laugh at dumb jokes, or hum to yourself when you’re deep in thought. If you still carry that kindness in your heart, despite everything the world’s thrown at you.

But there’s also something different, something that makes her chest ache. You look older. Wiser, maybe. More beautiful than she remembers, though she feels like that’s impossible, because she’s always thought you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

God, you’re beautiful. The thought hits her so suddenly that it makes her chest ache. It’s not just the way you look, though that alone would be enough to leave her speechless. It’s everything about you—the way you seem so untouchable and yet so heartbreakingly human all at once. She feels like a fool for standing here and staring, but for the life of her, she can’t seem to look away.

And then there’s the way the moonlight catches on your face, illuminating the faint shimmer of unshed tears in your eyes. Vi doesn’t even need to see your expression to know what you’re feeling.

For a long moment, she just stands there, unsure of what to do or say. She wants to run to you, to pull you into her arms and tell you she’s sorry, that she’s here, that she’s not going anywhere this time. But she knows it’s not that simple. It’s never that simple.

Finally, she takes a hesitant step forward, her boots making a soft thud against the wooden planks. You stiffen slightly, your head turning just enough to catch her in your peripheral vision. You don’t say anything, but the way your shoulders tense tells her you’ve already guessed it’s her.

Vi hesitates again, her heart pounding in her chest as she moves to sit beside you. She doesn’t get too close, leaving enough space between you that you won’t feel trapped, but close enough that she can see the way your fingers grip the edge of the platform like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

For a few seconds, the silence between you is unbearable. Vi glances at you from the corner of her eye, her mouth opening as if to speak, but the words don’t come. She’s never been good at this—talking about feelings, finding the right thing to say.

But as she watches you, she knows she has to try.

“Nice spot you’ve got here,” she says, her voice softer than she intended. “It’s quiet… Beats the chaos down there.”

It’s not much, and she knows it. She winces at how lame she sounds, but she’s not sure she trusts herself to say anything more. She’s afraid if she does, it’ll all come tumbling out—the guilt, the regret, the years of wondering what could’ve been if she hadn’t been taken, if she’d fought harder, if she’d found a way back sooner.

You don’t respond right away, and she can’t tell if it’s because you’re ignoring her or because you just don’t know what to say either. She glances at you again, her eyes lingering on the curve of your jaw, the way your lashes cast faint shadows against your cheeks.

You’re so close, but it feels like there’s an entire world between you.

When you finally do speak, your voice is so soft, almost drowned out by the music drifting up from below. “It’s always been my place to think. To get away… I have Ekko to thank for it.”

Your words are simple, but they carry so much weight, and Vi feels the knot in her chest tighten. She wonders what you’ve been thinking about up here all this time. If you’ve been thinking about her. If you’ve been wondering where she’s been, what she’s been doing, why she never came back.

“I can see why,” Vi says, trying to keep her tone light even though her heart is pounding. “It’s got a hell of a view.”

She means the lights, of course, the way they twinkle below like stars scattered across the ground. But as she says it, she realizes she’s not looking at the lights at all. She’s looking at you.

You finally turn to look at her, and the look in your eyes nearly breaks her. There’s so much there—pain, anger, sadness—but there’s something else, too. Something softer. Something she doesn’t think she deserves but hopes for anyway.

“I didn’t think you’d come up here,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vi looks at you, her throat tight, and she wishes she had the courage to tell you the truth. That she’s here because she couldn’t stay away. That she misses you.

Instead, she just nods, her voice low and a little rough when she finally speaks. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”

You look away again, your gaze returning to the lights below, and Vi knows she should say more, but she’s afraid. Afraid of making things worse. Afraid of losing whatever small chance she might have left to fix things.

She looks at you softly, “How have you been?”

You don’t answer right away.

The silence lingers. Vi shifts slightly, her body aching to close the distance, to somehow make things right, but she doesn’t move.

Then, it’s you who breaks the quiet after a short while, your voice soft and tentative, almost as if speaking too loudly might shatter the everything around you.

“It’s hard to think about you in prison,” you say, the words stumbling out of you before you can stop them.

Vi stiffens at the mention of it. Her chest tightens, as though she’s been struck, but she doesn’t look at you, doesn’t dare.

“I know it must’ve been hard,” you continue, your gaze still locked on the flickering lights below. “Being in there… for so long. I can’t even imagine how it felt. It must’ve been… suffocating.”

Vi can hear the way you say it, that compassion in your voice that makes her want to crumble. You’ve always been so gentle, even when the world around you was anything but.

The memories are sharp, jagged shards of regret that pierce her chest whenever she lets herself think about it. The days in that cold, lonely cell feel like a lifetime ago, but the scars—physical and emotional—are still fresh. The world had felt like a cruel, unyielding force back then. Every day in prison, every blow to her body, every quiet, restless night, had worn away the person she used to be. She couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be carefree or loved.

“I was so… lost,” Vi mutters quietly, her voice rough from the weight of years. “I spent so long… thinking about all of you, of Powder… of the mistakes I made. If i had just… If I hadn’t stepped away for one moment, maybe I would’ve still been here… Here with Powder…. Here with you.”

You glance at her then, just a flicker of movement, your eyes soft with something like pity—but more than that, something else that Vi doesn’t have the courage to name. She knows you see her now, not the image of the girl who left, but the one who came back. The one who is trying—trying, at least—not to destroy everything around her with the weight of her mistakes.

Vi’s voice breaks the silence again, this time with something raw in it, something almost painful. She shifts slightly, her hand twitching by her side, wanting to reach out but holding herself back.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was in there,” she says quietly, her eyes searching your face for any sign of recognition. “The thought of you… It helped get through most of my nights. I tried to dream of you... tried to imagine what you were doing, where you were… how you’ve grown... how much prettier you probably got. I kept telling myself, ’Maybe when I get out, maybe when I find a way out, I’ll find you again.’”

She stops, her gaze falling to the ground between you both as if ashamed to even say it aloud, as if admitting the depth of her thoughts all these years will somehow make them real. But it’s there, the longing she’s buried in the back of her mind, too painful to confront but too strong to ignore.

Vi continues, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “I wondered if you thought of me, if you looked for me. If you still cared… if I even mattered to you anymore.”

You stay silent as she speaks, your chest tight with something you can’t explain. The words sting in a way you’re not prepared for, like a wound reopened, and yet there’s something strangely soothing about them, too. The fact that Vi—after everything, after all this time—had thought of you… It almost doesn’t seem real.

But you say nothing, your gaze fixed ahead, unable to meet her eyes. You wonder if it’s better this way. If silence is all you have left to offer her now. Maybe it’s easier to listen than to speak, to keep everything bottled up inside where it won’t spill over and make a mess of things.

Vi takes a deep breath, her eyes shifting between the two of you, silently asking for something, anything that might make her feel less alone in this moment. But you don’t give her the answer she’s hoping for.

For a long while, neither of you speaks. The wind brushes past you, making the leaves rustle in the trees around the hideout. Below is quiet, almost peaceful, and the sound of distant voices and music fades into the background.

Vi watches you carefully, her eyes searching for something in yours, but she doesn’t push. She knows better than that. She knows that the years have changed you, just as much as they’ve changed her. She knows she can’t expect you to just forget everything, to instantly trust her again. But she hopes, more than anything, that there’s still something left between you both, something that could grow again.

“I saw you with her,” you say. “Ekko said her name is Caitlyn.”

Vi’s eyes widen at the mention of Caitlyn, her heart stopping for just a moment. The words seem to hang in the air between you both, heavy and charged. She opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out at first, as if the truth of its too much to swallow.

You feel her hesitation, the way she tenses, and it hits you in a way you weren’t prepared for. It feels like a sharp, cold pang in your chest. There’s a rawness in your voice that you didn’t even realize was there.

The way you say it feels like it cuts through the silence between you both. Vi looks at you then, eyes wide, searching, but she doesn’t speak. She knows she owes you an answer, but what answer could she give you? How could she explain everything that’s happened in the time between your separation and now?

After what feels like an eternity, Vi swallows hard, her throat tight. She looks away, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

“It’s not what you think,” she says softly, almost too quietly, the words coming out slow and hesitant. “I… I didn’t want it. She was just… trying to comfort me.”

Vi’s mind drifts back to Caitlyn, and she can’t help but sigh. She thinks Caitlyn’s a good person—for someone from topside. There’s a softness to her, a kindness that reminds Vi of the people she used to know back when things were simpler, when she wasn’t caught between the rubble of the Lanes and the ghosts of her past. But despite Caitlyn’s goodness, Vi knows one thing, something deep in her heart that she can’t escape: no one could ever be you.

No one could replace you. The girl she grew up with, the girl she used to dream about, the girl who haunted her thoughts long after she had fallen asleep. Vi’s chest tightens at the thought. The kiss with Caitlyn, the one you saw—it’s nothing more than a hollow moment, something that never should’ve happened. She wanted it to be you.

Vi shudders slightly. The kiss, the way Caitlyn’s lips felt against hers, it was nothing like the memories of you. Nothing like the way your hand used to fit in hers, how your laugh could fill a room with warmth, how you made her feel like she was worth something. Caitlyn could never make her feel the same way you made me feel, could never replace the way you made her feel alive, like everything in her life had a purpose.

“I couldn’t…” Vi murmurs to herself quietly. “I couldn’t feel that for anyone except you.”

Her hand slowly reaches out, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as they brush against yours. Her touch is gentle, careful, despite the roughness of her calloused palms, worn from years of fighting, of surviving. She holds your hand like she’s afraid you’ll slip away, like if she lets go, you’ll disappear, and she’ll be left with nothing but the echoes of a time she can never get back.

Your eyes instinctively shift to your hands, the same hands you once held as children. You remember how easy it was, how natural it felt when you were younger, sitting side by side in the dirt or on the roof of the Last Drop, fingers intertwined like nothing could ever pull you apart. Back then, it felt like the world was small, and nothing could hurt you as long as you were together.

But now—now, everything has changed.

Her fingers curl around yours, and the warmth of her touch sends a wave of memories flooding back—soft laughter, secret glances, the way her eyes would linger on you when she thought you weren’t looking. You blink, trying to keep the rush of emotions in check, but it’s hard when every inch of you feels like it’s trembling.

Vi’s eyes flicker to the ground below for a moment, her cheeks suddenly flushed, the soft red hue creeping up to her ears. It was that same familiar blush that’d show during the times she’d gift you a tiny present from those adventurous jobs she was in. She’s so close now, you can hear her breath hitch slightly as if she’s gathering the courage to speak words that she’s kept locked away for far too long.

“I’ve always loved you, you know,” she said finally. “I never got the chance to tell you…”

The words tumble from her mouth, quiet and unsteady, but every one of them feels like it’s been etched into her soul for years. She looks up at you, the faint redness still coloring her face as she holds your hand.

“I’d really like to make for the time I lost with you.”

The noise from the jukebox below, faint music playing through the speakers, the distant chatter of the Firelights—it all fades away, drowned out by the thundering silence between you both. You stare at her, your heart racing, a million thoughts running through your mind, but none of them can fully process the weight of what she’s just said. You feel the tears burn at the back of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You just stare at her—really look at her—like you haven’t in years.

Vi’s ears are bright red now, her gaze flicking away nervously. She’s never been good with things like this, always hiding behind her strength, her toughness.

And now, it’s all laid out in front of you.

She’s always loved you.

You swallow hard, your hand squeezing hers as you finally manage to find your voice, even though it feels as if it’s been taken from you for so long. You’re not sure if you want to speak, if you’re ready to speak, but it doesn’t matter.

A single tear slips down your cheek, catching in the moonlight that spills across the roof. You huff, your breath shaky, and quickly turn your head, trying to wipe it away before Vi can see.

But you’re not quick enough.

Vi’s blue eyes are already on you, her gaze soft, understanding, and something deeper, something tender that makes your heart ache even more. She doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you quietly, her thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as she holds your hand tighter.

The silence stretches between the two of you, but it doesn’t feel heavy. It feels like the beginning of something, something you both need but are too afraid to admit.

“You’re such an idiot,” you murmur, your voice unsteady as you try to hide the way your chest tightens.

You shake your head, still unable to fully meet her gaze, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. The sting of the tear on your cheek fades as you try to swallow down the lump in your throat, but it’s useless.

Vi’s lips twitch, just a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’s always known how to make you smile, even when everything else around you seemed to be falling apart. Now, it’s the same thing. She’s still that person who knows how to make your heart feel lighter, even in times like this.

“I know.”

Her voice is soft, almost teasing, but there’s no mockery in it, only the acceptance of your words—because she’s heard them before. She’s known, deep down, that you always thought she was an idiot, that she was reckless, that she made mistakes.

But none of that mattered.

She’s always loved you. And you’ve always known it, even if you didn’t want to admit it at first.

She scoots closer to you, the space between you shrinking as she leans in, her body warm against yours. You can feel the weight of her presence beside you, the soft strength that always made you feel safe. Her hand tightens around yours, pulling it into her lap, and you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as if you can’t bear to look at her yet.

But her touch reminds you of who you were before everything fell apart, before the years, the distance, and the pain.

“I know,” she repeats softly, her smile growing. She brings your hand up to her lips, softly pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, the red still staining her ears as she nudges you with her shoulder.

“But I’m your idiot.”

And you want to laugh, want to smile and tease her like you used to, but instead, you just sit there. Just breathe.

Vi is here. She’s real. And she’s never stopped loving you.

And maybe—just maybe—you’re ready to love her back the way she’s always wanted you to.

ty for reading! | masterlist

#I wish I had something funny to say but this was so devastatingly beautiful #that I have nothing to say #vi is SUCH A CROW TOTALLY AGREE WITH TRH TRINKET THING THATS SO VI #okay so maybe I do have something to say #god I’m going to sleep now what the fuck that made me so depressed (in a good way)#good. night. !

1K notes · View notes

1-5-1-t · 2 years ago

Text

mä opettamas mun sudareille, miten tehää partiotervehdys

#why is this picture SO FUNNY #the venn diagram of people who are interested in the actors on actors with jaw and jennifer coolridge #and the people who know and care about finnish scouting traditions #is probably two different circles #trust me tho this is devastatingly funny <3

0 notes

chunksworld · 5 months ago

Text

Swim

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: #BreedMinju. Thank you to Kaede for beta reading as always.

————————

You never imagined in your wet dreams, in all of the times you masturbated to her, or even that time you drunk texted her a picture of you shirtless after one too many drinks at the bar that the woman you met inside the elevator during your first day at the company some two odd years ago would be in your apartment watching some rom-com from the 90s that you are too inebriated to remember the title of. Your heart is pounding, partly because of the double serving of triple shot espresso you perhaps shouldn’t have drank this morning and partly because she looks devastatingly stunning in that white shirt that completely conceals whatever shorts she maybe wearing underneath which further accentuates those long legs of hers—

“I don’t remember the TV facing this direction, unless there’s something on my face?”

Shit.

Aside from her God-given physical features, it’s the way she can toy with your feelings and flirt with you so effortlessly that always leaves you wanting for more. Every single little interaction with her is an adventure on its own; the way she would wink at you every time you pass by her in the office, the way she would walk up to you to fix your tie while telling you how your perfume “smells like the oceanside on a summer day” —whatever the hell that means— or how she would always give you words of encouragement with that bright smile of hers during stressful days.

It should mean something, has to mean something. Right? You can’t ask anyone for advice either, not when you’re the only two people born on this side of the century in your department. Your coworkers are either divorced or having a midlife crisis, and quite frankly, you might be having a quarter-life crisis if such a thing exists. You can’t stay professional any longer, and you are more than thankful that you’re not at the workplace right now because the thoughts swimming inside your head are absolutely not safe for work. And it’s all because of this fucking woman that’s laughing as if everything is sunshine and rainbows: Kim Minju.

It doesn’t help that she’s the prettiest woman you know. even more so than the handful of girls you’ve hooked up with during college. Evidently, you are not the only one that shares that sentiment because you don’t miss the old way some of your older male coworkers would give her a certain, disgusting look that you wish to erase from your memories and you know she deserves better than them. She deserves someone like you, but you don’t exactly know if that feeling is reciprocated. But as to how far you can push your luck, you haven’t found out the answer to that yet—perhaps tonight is the night.

“Are you still with me? Or did my goddess face lure you in too deep?”

That now makes the two of you not paying attention to the movie—granted you’ve already seen it at least a dozen times during college when you were a hopeless romantic but who are you to turn down Minju when she specifically requested it? Plus, that’s not your concern at this very moment when she scoots ever so closely to you and the heat her skin radiates is enough to burn you. “Honestly, I don’t blame you if you have a crush on me. I sort of have that effect on guys.” There’s that fucking wink again, and the way she pouts her lips as if she is posing for a selfie. “I admire your resilience though, most guys would have me moaning their names on their bed already by this point.”

“Not funny, Minju.” It really isn’t, not when she’s mere inches away from you and if you were just a bit more drunk now those irresistible lips of hers would be meshed with yours now. You try to look away but you can’t, they captivate you to no end and you don’t even want to look away now—the sheen on those cherry red lips, the way they stand out against her milky white skin, the way she then bites her lower lips as to tempt you even further, the way sweat slowly drips down the side of her face and to her neck and you think they’d look good with your bite marks all over them.

Even if you look down, her succulent thighs and legs are all that will pervade your senses and you won’t be able to stop thinking about how you just want to rip whatever garments she’s wearing underneath and have her spread her legs while you eat her out like she’s your last meal on Earth. “You can’t just keep doing this for years and not expect me to make a move eventually.”

“Then what’s stopping you, hmm?”

Minju somehow shifts even closer to you, her lips practically brushing against yours, her eyes staring deep into your soul, her hands resting on your thighs. She probes into you even deeper, much deeper than any other time and emergency sirens are popping up in your head. There have been many close encounters like this, way too many for your liking.

The way she would wear pencil skirts on certain days and make it her mission to bend over in front of you as much as possible to show the unreal curvature of her ass—then proceeding to smirk as if she doesn’t know how much your cock wants to burst through your pants. The way she would purposely bump into you and pretend to fall so you can pull her into an inadvertent hug.

Or when she would wear those dresses that hug her curves tightly during galas and she would give you a courtesy hug for a second longer than corporate policies would allow. Or when she kissed you during Christmas party last year and claimed that she had to do it because you two were “underneath a mistletoe.”

It all has to end tonight, because God forbid you have to spend another night alone on your bed making a mess while you shoot ropes after ropes all over yourself thinking about her. It’s exhausting having to play these games with her when you’re 99% sure she is into you and you have to take action now before someone else does.

“Minju, I don’t think you’re ready for what I’m packing down there.” You test the waters even further, carefully studying her facial expressions while trying not to get lost in her eyes. It’s quite a difficult task when the alcohol is hitting you harder by the minute but when a sly grin appears across her face as if to challenge that statement, you know you have her right where you want her.

“Oh trust me, I know what you’re packing down there.” Minju glances downwards at your erection and your sweatpants are doing a poor job with how it’s about to poke through your pants. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be spending my Friday night here when I could be hanging out with Chaewon and Yujin.” It’s getting dangerous now, her hands traveling down your body and cupping your length through two layers of clothing.

And honestly you might as well be naked now with the way your cock reacts to her touch —your tip is leaking heavily and your breath starts to shorten. “So what’s it gonna be? You can’t tell me you have a different plan for how this night is going to end.” You can’t push back any further, you won’t push back. You take the first dip, lips pressed hungrily onto hers and she takes this opportunity to swing her legs over and straddle you on your couch—the movie in the background is long forgotten and all you care about right now is her.

You straighten yourself up and wrap your arms around her waist possessively; two years of pent up sexual frustration finally coming to an end and you make the most of it. Her lips are everything you’ve dreamed of; soft and sweet and succulent and you can’t help but think about how they slot in with yours perfectly as if you were meant to kiss her all this time. Your hands travel to her face to cup her cheeks, pushing her head deeper into yours and you notice her hands encircling around your back.

You take a break to catch your bearings, staring deep again at her now lust-filled eyes and you get a front row seat to the facial expression you’ve been dying to see for forever now. She moans into your mouth when one of your hands slides underneath her dress shirt to feel her smooth skin and the ridges of her abs which itself isn’t a surprise—what is surprising is the lack of bra when you travel further upwards and you come into contact with tits that you are sure is perky and round. “What a fucking slut, Minju. No bra?”

Your suspicions are confirmed when you practically rip the buttons off her shirt and throw it somewhere in your living room and your mouth waters at the sight of her breasts, they are definitely not the biggest you’ve seen but the way they sit on her perfectly shaped body with all of her curves and intricacies is more than enough to make up for it. “What’s the use of wearing one when I knew we were gonna end up like this anyways?” But before you could dive down to taste them you find your shirt being removed as well and the hunger in your eyes is mirrored by the way she’s staring down at your own pack of abs.

“I mean if I had it my way I would’ve told you to be shirtless already with only your boxers on before I came over but you can’t have everything in life right?” She is as handsy as you, those delicate fingers mapping your chest and your stomach with every little touch as if to decipher where her lips would go later. But you absolutely cannot wait any longer, grabbing her hand and placing it on her sides while you devour her nipples. Taking her left breasts between your lips while massaging the right one and the whimper of your name that escapes her lips is downright sinful while you alternate between the two.

You lick, slurp, and at times even get your teeth involved—just anything that can get her squirming and writhing on your lap is enough to fuel you. Even more so when she pushes your head deeper into her chest and she’s moaning “more please, fuck” in between whimpers.

Minju is one needy girl and that’s one fact that you find out quickly when she starts to grind on your hips and you can feel just how warm and wet her shorts are. You inadvertently bite on her nipples and she screams your name at the sensation. You utter a “sorry” in response but it doesn’t really matter when she gets off of you and you think you’ve absolutely screwed up. Fucking great. She stands up and you are about to give a more sincere and heartfelt apology but those thoughts are quickly washed away when she removes her shorts and then her panties.

“I want to see that cock. Now.”

You don’t waste a single moment before you proceed to do the same thing to your undergarments and the sight of her fully naked in front of you causes you to leak even more precum with your cock freely exposed to the air. Minju looks hot—which in itself might be an understatement with the way she’s fucking you with those wide eyes of hers, the way her nipples are glimmering under the lights of your living room thanks to your saliva, the way her abs contract with every breath she takes, the way those stocky thighs are slick with her essence. Forget those wet dreams because none of them could match witnessing the actual Kim Minju naked in real life in your apartment.

Minju squeals when you drag her back down towards you to make her straddle your lap again. No more games, no more foreplay, you slowly sink her down your cock and drink in her moans when she buries her face in your shoulder. She is suffocatingly tight, extremely wet but tight and you almost spill mere seconds after finally inserting your entire length inside her. You wince slightly as her manicured nails press into your shoulders and eventually your back. “Fucking—shit—If I only knew—”

Your pace is slow and methodical, even though you want to just pound her into oblivion and have her screaming to the point your neighbors will complain the morning after. She is Minju after all and she deserves that respect, but as to how long you can control yourself you don’t know. For now, you are content to just have her in your arms and revel in this moment that you’d never thought would ever come. Just feeling how your cock molds perfectly inside her and how her small bunny hops gradually increase over time and her face becomes lost in pleasure is more than enough.

Especially when you feel every inch of her goddess-like body pressed against yours when she arches up to you; her thighs bouncing against yours, her abs grinding against yours, and those breasts pressed against your chest. “—so deep, fuck—harder!” It’s about time you take control and you do just that, you plant your feet to the ground and you grab handfuls of her asscheeks with each hand before thrusting up in time with her thrust and Minju’s gone completely delirious now.

Gone are the coherent sentences as they are now replaced by expletive-filled chants of pleasure. She’s damn near crying on your cock, tears welling up in her eyes due to pleasure and so you pull her face away to get a glimpse of her sweat-misted face and how her eyes are unfocused. You don’t know what came over you but you feel your heart skip a beat seeing such surreal beauty up close and personal so you pull her in for another makeout session, continuing your long and hard thrusts while your tongue ravages her mouth much like your cock does with her pussy.

“Fucking hell, we should’ve done this sooner.” Another kiss on her lips, then another lick of her nipples—make that two licks, no in fact, you devour them once more. It’s becoming clearer that they’re starting to become your favorite part of her body and it’s completely justified. “ I can’t believe I had to jack off to your pictures when you were just one call away.” The woman in question doesn’t respond but she blushes, the raw honesty of your words is enough to reveal that shy and demure side of her again despite the situation you two are currently in.

Minju just brushes her hair aside in response while looking away, taking the initiative to bounce on your cock and you let her take over once again. “W-Well I’m here now—“ A particularly hard thrust deep into a certain spot inside her has her clenching around your cock much tighter than usual, you take mental note of this “—I hope I’m as good as advertised.” Of course she is and even better than whatever scenario you were cooking up inside your head, but instead of showing it through words you just smile at her and hope that it’s enough to show your admiration and you let your body do the talking.

You’re noticing how tired she’s becoming being on top so you don’t waste any more time and pick up the pace while still letting her guide the way. It’s silence between the two of you aside from the sounds of passionate lovemaking and that is just enough to push you two closer to the edge. You feel her clench tighter around you again and likewise you can feel your balls throbbing in anticipation too. It’s been a stressful week at work and there’s no better place to unload than inside her welcoming pussy. You’re just as close to her as reaching your orgasm and it’s becoming extremely difficult not to do anything but to burst inside hers.

Forget the lovemaking, you lift her up by her asscheeks and stand up from the couch and you immediately feel her limbs coil around your body as she gasps at the sensation of being fully seated by your cock. You start to thrust up again, this time more relentlessly without the restrictions of the couch and she’s leaking even more now and you can actually feel her juices stream down your cock and you know she’s extremely close. “D-Don’t stop, please. Don’t you ever fucking stop!” She’s bouncing much higher than before, almost completely unsheathing your length before she crashes back down on it again and now she’s actually crying in pleasure.

“Hnnghhh! Fuck! I can’t, I can’t—” There was certainly no way she was going to last any longer. “—G-Gonna cum on your cock!” And a few more of those wild thrusts is all it takes to set her off, going limp and forcing you to grab hold of her even tighter so she doesn’t slip off—a task given difficult given how much sweat is emanating both of your bodies but you don’t care especially when all of those juices causes you to slip out of her for a minute and you don’t care about the mess you two are making on the floor at this very moment when you’re about to follow her with your own orgasm.

“Such a fucking good girl for me, Minju.” You slide back inside her, this time it’s easier thanks to the lubrication she provided and you can’t help but grit your teeth and close your eyes. It’s too much, all of this. What transpired tonight and what it means for your future. It’s all too much to handle and you can’t hold it any longer. You’re about to give her the biggest load you’ve ever given anyone. “You deserve all of this, I’ve wanted you so fucking bad.“ All she can do is nod as she is still sensitive from her own orgasm but with the way she’s wrapping her arms around you tighter she wants it as badly as you do. “Gonna fucking cum inside.”

“Please! I want your hot—hnggh—I want your cum. Please. When a beautiful woman like her gives you such a permission you don’t waste it, you hold her tight as you begin to pump ropes after ropes of cum in her pussy with every deep thrust. You don’t want to stop cumming, can’t stop cumming—your legs going weak and forcing you to sit down on the couch while you continue to unload deep inside Minju. It feels fucking euphoric, feeling your load drip back down to your cock and balls as that seemed to drain the soul out of you.

You’ve been holding back from the moment you first saw her all those years ago and there’s no better feeling than this, not even a promotion could rival how addicting having sex with her feels and you want more. You want to continue diving into the ocean that is Kim Minju even if it means drowning, nothing else matters but her.

As if to try to coax more cum out of you, Minju continues to grind her hips while kissing you. This time it’s much more slow and gentle while you lay her on the couch and hover on top of her. It’s beautiful how her hair, though disheveled, cascades down her shoulders and fans out on the cushion below.

Her limbs are still wrapped tight around you, your softening cock starting to harden while you begin to fuck her once more—you’re making a mess of the couch with how you’re fucking your cam back into her but it doesn’t matter when she’s going to be filled again. “You still have enough cum for me? I’m surprised.”

You place kisses on her neck this time, making sure to leave marks dark enough that no amount of foundation can conceal it once Monday comes around. Surprisingly she doesn’t protest, perhaps she does want everyone to find out about you two. “Guess I didn’t do a good job of draining you, huh?” You respond by fucking her harder into the couch, feeling the furniture creak and move with every thrust and you render her speechless once again.

Lean down to capture those bouncing tits in your mouth and continue to work her to another orgasm which wasn’t difficult to accomplish considering how sensitive she still is. It didn’t take long to set you off either and you unload whatever remaining load you have, which is still plenty considering you almost passed out with how much you left inside her just ten minutes ago.

She urges you to sit up on the couch again and she gets off of it to kneel down in front of you before then taking your flaccid cock in her mouth to clean you off. The sight is pornographic, the way she shows off your combined juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it all. “Hmm, we taste good together. I don’t mind having some more of that.”

Minju gets off her knees to sit down right beside you and the way her naked body glistens under the natural light outside your apartment is an unparalleled sight that has your heart swooning and doing backflips. “Well, I’m free this entire weekend.” And perhaps shooting your shot when all of this has already happened is quite a ridiculous predicament to be in but you don’t want to be selfish after all. Surely a girl like her has plenty of suitors you’re not aware of and you don’t want to tie her down especially when nothing is official yet.

“I guess I could be convinced.”

Those ten seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But it was all worth it the moment she gives you that smile that makes your heart race even faster. And despite kissing her for what seems like a million times already, this one has special weight. As if to tell the world that the most beautiful woman you have ever known and perhaps will ever know is now yours and there’s nothing that could change that. Screw all of those disgusting old men with their mid-life crisis because your quarter-life crisis just ended in the most satisfying way possible.

You’re embarrassed by the way you whine the moment you don’t feel her lips on yours anymore but you are quickly consoled the moment she stands up and turns around to flaunt that perfectly shaped ass of hers. Suddenly, blood rushes to your cock again as if you didn’t cum twice already.

“Come on, take me to your bedroom.” Minju eyes you like a piece of meat once again when she pulls you up to your feet.

“There’s one more hole you forgot to fill.”

#izone smut #minju smut #kim minju smut #male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut

1K notes · View notes