#had to look up what a ramen stand looks like but i think i got it accurate?

[fiendishartist2]

reigen would be so proud of older mob :,)

[bi-writes]

ok reverse the TROPE !!!!!! sugar-mommy!f!reader x retired!simon <333 (18+)

he got discharged on a medical injury. his knee flares up now, phantom pains that shoot up his leg and pinch his spine. he feels like a failure--a lieutenant in his prime, and now he has to acclimate to civilian life and grit his teeth instead of drown the voices in his head out with gunfire.

he's been deployed as much as he could be just to stay away from this kind of place. so he didn't have to get on a train, or take the tube. so he didn't have to think about looking over his shoulder in the shops or learn how to pay a wifi bill. he hates going to the doctor's office, and he hates learning how to properly open his bank account, just to learn that there's nearly nothing in it.

the numbers just dwindle before his very eyes. the rent is too high, even in his shitty studio. when did cable cost that much? why can't he go to the pub for just a few pounds anymore? where is the compensation for giving more than a decade of his life in service of his country just to have to wait in fucking lines to get his medication and argue over the phone about where all his fucking money went.

maybe he never had any. maybe it's all lost somewhere. he'd ask his former captain, but he's halfway across the world, and over his dead body would he hold a hand out and ask for charity when he's 36 years old.

"don't get that one."

simon turns his head, a snarl caught in his throat. there's a pretty thing standing beside him, also staring at the array of ramen packages in focus. you take the orange package out of his hand and put it back on the shelf before reaching for a different package. it's got japanese characters on it, so he can't read the label, but you smile up at him.

"this one is way better. good price for it, too."

"'s more expensive."

"yeah, but you get eight packets in this one. that one only gives you five."

at the till, you notice him subtly counting the notes in his wallet. you pretend not to notice, rocking back and forth on your heels, but just as he picks up his bag to leave, you speak up.

"you wanna get a drink? on me."

and fuck, he could use a bourbon. on the first one, he thought your presence was pleasantly tolerable. by the fourth, he's staring down your shirt, dark eyes mapping out what the curves of your breasts might look like in the palm of his big hand. by the sixth, you're pressed up against a sticky bathroom wall and holding on for dear life as he pounds into you from behind, knickers in his back pocket, manicured nails digging slits into his tattooed forearm.

you sink those claws in that night; and you do not let go.

the third night you ask him out, he sees your flat for the first time. in a nice building downtown, doorman holding the door open for you. the elevator ride is long enough for him to see the tops of buildings, and when you step inside your flat, he swallows hard when he realizes you are way out of his league.

gorgeous leather seats and couch. large tv with surround sound. a french kitchen with a gas stove. your flat is filled with knickknacks and candles, low yellow lights and wonderful collections of art and little glass vases and sculptures. your home is filled with warmth, and you don't belong with him.

just as he thinks about backing out of the place, you turn and grip the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. you touch your nose to his over his mask, smiling, and you push the door closed behind him and press him up against it.

"so, which room do you wanna christen first? i thought we could start in the kitchen."

you're a woman that knows what she wants, he'll give you that; and he doesn't have it in him to say no.

the sun wakes him up in the morning. he doesn't remember falling asleep--he doesn't like to make staying over a habit. when he sits up on his elbows, he takes a deep breath, realizing his back hurts a lot less. the mattress of your bed is wonderful, much more supportive than the flat mess he has on the floor in his own place, and he blinks himself awake when you come out of the bathroom.

you're freshly dressed, makeup on, and you're putting on your jewelry when you see him. you smile at him, coming towards the bed, and you bend down to kiss where his mouth would be under the mask.

"good morning, simon. sleep well?"

"mmm..."

you take that as a yes, cupping his jaw, and you kiss him over his mask again before going to get some shoes from your closet. he doesn't comment on the fact that when you open it, he realizes the closet there is only for shoes...

"you hungry, baby? want some breakfast?"

"i--oh..." simon lays back down when his back tweaks, and you reach for him when you see him fall back in the mirror. you smooth a hand down the side of his body, frowning.

"why don't you stay in bed? i'll have my assistant bring you something."

"no, tha's--"

"i'm not asking, simon, i'm telling you," you coo. you pick up one of his hands and trace one of his scars with your finger. you have long, almond-shaped nails. there's pretty chrome nail art over the wine red color you wear, and he focuses on it as you kiss his knuckles gently. "will you wait for me to come home?"

"where y'goin'?"

"gotta work, honey," you wink down at him. "and i want you to be here when i get back."

"tha' so?"

"mhm," you smile. "right here. in my bed--" you lift the covers a little and peek, giggling as you put it back down after getting a glimpse at his cock resting against his lower stomach. "just like this, simon."

he doesn't remember if he ever goes back to his flat. he thinks he went one more time, to grab a few bottles of his medication, but the tick in his knee hadn't been so bad with the great physical therapy you started paying for and the warm massages you gave him every night.

and his back--your bed always contours perfectly against the muscles of his back, and he finds himself sleeping a full seven hours every single night.

not to mention his new work outs. simon hadn't been to the gym much since coming home, but he knows he must be burning hundreds of calories with you. you test his limits. as soon as you're home, you jump on him, and the stress relief your pussy brings him is just what he needs to get the edge off. you're a fiend, especially after a rough day, and the way you bounce on his cock in every room of your flat keeps him up at night sometimes with the most glorious wet dreams.

you're up late that night. you're curled up on the couch in one of simon's shirts and a glass of red wine, and there's a mountain of papers around you that you're focusing on reading. you have a huge presentation tomorrow, and everything needs to be perfect. simon comes into the living room, shirtless, and you smile when you see him standing there. he's wearing the new sweats you got him, but you can't focus on that too much when you're staring at his pudgy, toned stomach and his nice pecs. you bite your lip, taking a long sip of your wine, and simon hikes up his mask to take a bite out of his bowl of ice cream.

"gonna be up late tonight?" he asks, and you nod. "want me to sit with ya?" you nod again, lifting up your legs, and when he takes a seat next to you, you drape them across his lap. you lean over to give his scarred cheek a kiss, and when you turn back to your paperwork, a thought comes across your mind.

"we should get married," you say softly, circling a note over something. simon keeps eating, as if what you said doesn't phase him.

"why's tha', love?"

"tax benefits."

"mmm..." simon drops one of his hands and thumbs against your ankle. the flat is warm. his stomach is full. his body hurts less, and his heart aches with something nice. "olright then."

you smile.

"good. cause i already bought the ring."

NEXT

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 4 : Sweet reward

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

Previous chapter

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

CW: NSFW, dom reader, bottom reader, sub yandere, collar, leash, praise kink, pet play, teasing, porn with plot, raw sex, yandere behavior and reader is horny too

Word count: Over 3K

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It was late in the evening. You entered your apartment with hunched shoulders under the weight of your bag. As you threw it on the ground, relief coursed through your whole body.  Suddenly, a familiar voice made your heart skip a beat.

“Welcome home master!” Jacce said enthusiastically while appearing in your field of view. He was wearing a stereotypical cooking apron. The ones with “kiss the cook” written on it and heart-shaped pockets on both sides. If you weren’t so irritated by the appellation he just gave you, you would’ve remembered that you didn’t own any aprons like that.

“I already told you to stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes, “well not in an everyday setting.” 

It had been a week since you accepted to make him your pet, as he liked to call it. You still weren’t used to having someone else living with you, especially someone like him. TYou were aware that this guy did bad things, yet you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Jacce. After all, he was really keen on the whole, “I only want to serve you” attitude. Besides, there was no reason to deny that it wasn’t what motivated you to take him in. The noises he made the first time you touched him were all you ever dreamed of in a man. So you definitely weren't regretting your decision.

At least for now.

“Sorry! I won’t do it again m— emm supper is ready!” He left the hall in a hurry, waiting for you to follow him. It did smell rather nice, and you were not against having something warm to eat. Jacce’s cooking was one thing you got around pretty quickly since the start of his stay. Gone are the days of eating ramens because you were too tired or busy to make anything complex. You entered the kitchen to see a mouth watering meal on the table. Next to it was Jacce standing proudly, his hands behind his back.

“Are you happy?” he asked with the sole purpose of receiving your praise. 

You ignore if it’s because you found his mannerism cute or you were influenced by the fact that he called himself “puppy” on multiple occasions, but you walked closer to him and stroked his hair as a sign of appreciation. 

“Yes! You did an amazing job.” 

To your surprise Jacce made a loud moan from your touch, his mouth slightly open and his tongue now sticking out. You completely froze in response, and it felt like your brain did too. When he realized that you had stopped petting him, his mouth closed quickly and his face turned bright red, this time in embarrassment. 

For a moment, an awkward silence had fallen between the two of you. 

“Did you just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, that Jacce was already babbling what seemed like an apology. He backed away as well, letting your hand drop. He seemed so scared that you would change your mind and kick him out now. You could see imaginary dog ears falling to the side of his head as he looked at you with teary eyes.

He really is like a puppy. 

“Jacce it’s fine! I was just… taken by surprise!” You tried to reassure him, “you have to admit that your reaction wasn’t very typical.” You waved your hands in the air to somewhat back up your point. He seemed a little bit reassured, but still had doubts. 

“You don’t… think I’m weird now do you?” Jacce whispered while playing with his hands anxiously. 

If anything makes you weird it’s definitely not this, was your instant thought, but you obviously didn’t share that with him. You did love the way he responded to such an innocent touch. It made your stomach feel funny.

“No, I don’t think you’re weird.” You took a step forward, “now what about we sit down to eat this delicious meal you made and… maybe I will reward you for it after.” You spoke that last part close to his left ear, a grin spreading on your lips. 

To claim that this man sat down at the speed of light would be an understatement. You didn’t even have time to compliment his cuisine that he had choked down half of his plate. After five minutes, only because you asked him to slow down, he had finished eating and was on his way to do the dishes. You, on the other hand, were enjoying every piece of the meal. The temptation to lick it clean was almost unbearable. It was a pleasant surprise when you discovered that he was this skilled the first time he cooked for you. It's a bit mean to admit it, but based on his personality and appearance, you assumed he was the type of guy to only eat microwaved food. In a way you weren’t really in a position to judge knowing your own habits.

Maybe it explains why he worked at that coffee shop. You continued to theorize to yourself how this raccoon man could put this much effort into cooking. But while lost in thoughts, you didn’t notice the figure currently kneeling down at your feet. 

“Are you finished yet? I… I want my reward.” Jacce whined, while looking up at you and hesitantly clang to your leg. He was moving his thigh together while letting out small moans, certainly trying to get some friction out of it. So you decided to tease him a little. 

“I am, but my plate needs to be washed first.” You declare while avoiding his gaze. You could hear him whimper as a result, yet he quickly got up and bolted off to take care of it. 

By the time he came back the lavender apron had been thrown to the ground, giving you a complete view of his depraved state. The outline of his erection was clearly visible and a wet spot stained the front of his jeans. For how long was he leaking pre-cum for it to be this bad?! Or did he already finish with just the petting from earlier?

Jacce didn’t kneel back down, however his hunched posture still gave him a vulnerable look. As you got up, you swore you saw his bulge twitch despite the layers of clothing. You grab one of his hands and lead him to the bedroom. His head was hanging low while he followed you, almost timidly, which was a huge contrast from his previous perverted and shameless behaviours. Once you arrived, you sat on the bed and took a good look at him. Jacce was wearing his forest green turtleneck, as he often did at the coffee shop. Suddenly, it reminded you of something and this idea filled you with delight.

“Tell me puppy, have you been wearing your collar under your turtleneck?” You asked with an innocent voice. He shivered at the question, his cock leaking a little bit. He really hoped this was going into the direction he had fantasized about for months. 

“Yes… I have been wearing it all day, I… I just wanted to show that I’m yours” He pulled his turtleneck down, putting  his red collar on display.  

“Do you have a leash to go with it?” 

When Jacce had arrived at your place, he’d only brought a few bags with him. You didn’t go through all of them, but you were convinced there was one in there. You were right to think so, since he seemed to perk up even more at your question. You didn’t even have to ask him to go get it, since he walked directly to a big backpack, as if the man knew perfectly in which one it was. Jacce ended up pulling out a medium size leash and clipped it to the D-ring of his collar. 

“I’m ready… Can I choose my reward ?”

“Of course, we will do what makes you the most happy.”

“Then I… I want to show how much of a devoted doggy I am for you.” 

You instantly knew what he meant by that. It was only a matter of time since his evident inclination for petplay surfaced, and you were surprised he didn't really make any attempt before this moment. Jacce slowly unzipped his jeans, giving you glances in case you stopped him, but you let him fully uncover his lower half. Finally free from his boxers, Jacce's swollen cock throbbed in the air and dripped precum onto the hardwood floor. You held in a laugh seeing it swing as he got closer to you.

“You need to take your pants off too.” He whined, losing his patience and only wanting to relieve himself from this semi torture. You decided not to tease him further, undressing automatically. You were convinced that if you had taken your time, he would have started crying… which you wouldn’t really mind when you thought about it. 

At last, Jacce could see for himself how turned on you were. He was drooling at the sight.

“Y-You look so good.” He lowered himself to admire it up close, the head of his cock almost touching your leg. You took the chance to grab the leash, making Jacce moan and hump your tight. You pull yourself away, but as you were still holding on, he stumbled onto the bed. The second he noticed you positioning yourself on all four onto the bed, raising your ass in front of him, he immediately stopped whining from the lack of stimulation. 

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I-I promises to make you feel so good.”

Jacce positioned himself behind you, his hands trembling on your back in anticipation. Jacce bit down his lip, ecstatic that he could pleasure you like you deserved. He slid one finger inside of you, making sure you were prepared for him. The last thing he desired was to hurt you in the process. Then he steadily moved his finger in and out, hadding a second, then a third soon after .

When he felt it was stretched enough around his finger he asked. “Please can I fuck you now? Pleaseeee master?” 

You didn’t correct him for calling you that honorific this time. You had to admit that it was kinda cute, just not in front of other people or in your day-to-day life. Your friends or family didn’t need to know about the dirty things going on between you and Jacce. 

“Yes puppy, you can.” You swayed your butt in an inviting way as you felt the tip of his cock brush against you. 

Your breath hitch has the head got shoved in your entrance, however a muffled whimper coming from Jacce overshadowed it. You expected him to thrust deeper, yet he wasn’t moving an inch anymore. You turned your head back a little and tugged at the leash to get an explanation out of him. 

“You feel s–so warm around my mmhg… I need to take my time or I’ll–I’ll…” Jacce swallowed hard and massaged your hips gently has a form of apology. You wanted to move onto him so badly, to hear all the pretty sounds he’d make, but you restrained yourself. This was his reward after all, you needed to let him have a bit of fun. 

He inhaled shakily before sinking his shaft deeper. It took a moment before he was completely buried inside of you. Your warmth was, in one word, overwhelming. He took off his sweater turtleneck, tossing it aside, wanting to feel the cold air on his skin to compensate for the burning feeling spreading across his chest. You gawked at the sight of one of his pierced nipples. You never thought he could manage to look hotter and mentally noted that one day you needed to fuck him stupid while tugging at it. 

After five slow trust, Jacce started to increase his speed and soon enough he was pounding into you desperately. The room was only filled with the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and the depraved moans that Jacce was letting out next to your ears. Despite the fast movements, he was keeping you in place with his arms wrapped around your waist. He was maybe the one on top, but all the pathetic whines he made every time his dick slid back inside you and the collar around his neck, showed who was really in charge. 

He wasn’t the only one that was having a pleasurable experience, because despite Jacce having an average size length, you could really feel his thickness stretching your inner walls. Not to mention that his cock kept pulsating against it, hitting all the right spots. So you couldn’t help but let out a plenty of moans and praise for him as a result.

“You're doing it so well, such a good boy for me.” You turned your head to kiss him, which he happily obliged. He had been drooling so much that his lips were already wet when clashing against yours. Jacce kept making depraved noises while kissing in the most sloppy way possible.

You pulled back to get some air, leaving a chance for the mess of man to speak. 

“A-aahh… Puppy is g-good for you, only you.” He breathed out from the intense make out.

You pulled on his leash, causing him to let out a moan and lay even more on top of you. At this rate, he was grinding against your ass like a pathetic animal more than anything, his balls slapping against it rhythmically. Jacce only wished to stay deep inside of you as much as possible. You just felt so good around him, it would be a crime to pull out. 

“Can puppy Mngh-ph suck your neck? Please, p-please, please!”

It seemed like each word that came out of his mouth required a huge amount of effort and the same could have been said to you. You tried saying yes, but only a vague humming came out. Jacce took the occasion to murmur how grateful he was, before sucking and lapping at the nape of your neck. Suddenly, you gasped as you felt one of his hands sliding in your inner thigh to touch your sensitive parts. 

“Ahh Puppy loves hearing… h-how good he is for you.” He huffed while satisfying the heat between your legs. 

This was the last straw for your arms, your face hitting the mattress with a small thump. Your hands now resting on both sides of your head, one still strongly pulling the leash. Your mind slowly went into a haze as you let your mouth open and drool leak profusely onto the sheets. You didn’t even have enough energy to try and keep yourself still, instead letting your body move on it's own has the man bucked his hips into you. It was your turn to let out depraved noises, melting Jacce’s heart with adoration. 

“Nnnf p-please, let me hear y-you Aaah… more.” He panted, resting his chin on your shoulder. His right hand was still stimulating your intimate parts, pulling additional sounds from you. He could feel your walls tightening around his shaft, indicating you were getting close. 

“Please cum around puppy’s d-dumb dick, Nnngf… won’t finish… until you do.” He took a moment before adding, “that's the… only thing I w-want.”

You tightly shutted your eyes before letting out multiple moans while your insides grope around him one last time. His hand on your sex did not show any sign of stopping its administration, putting your brain on overdrive. Jacce mouvements became messy as well. It was impossible for him to hold his climax after feeling you release like that. 

“C-Can I cum inside master? Please Aaah–”

A wave of pleasure prevented him from finishing his pleas. You didn’t know if it was because of the thrill of the moment or because he had manage to fuck you silly, but you eagerly agreed. The second you nodded it's like you had activated something in him, because he cried out a pure sound of ecstasy, loads of cum shooting out of his cock. He trusted his hips a few times before gradually stopping. Jacce couldn’t talk anymore and was only panting hard behind you. Both of his hands went back on your stomach, one rubbing it in a soothing manner. His softened shaft pulled out on its own, leaving your gaping hole to drip out his cum. As you dropped the leash, Jacce rolled off of you and onto his side, bringing you with him. You were completely drained out of all energy, so you didn’t stop him. In this current position, his legs were wrapped around yours, trapping you. Even with the aftermath effects of the orgasm clouding both of your minds, you could nonetheless sense his gaze fixated on the back of your skull. Maybe he was waiting in case you complained about how he was holding you. But with no sign of disagreement his breath came back to a normal rhythm and the pressure of his eyes on you diminished, but not by much.

After regaining a bit of force, you turned and nudged him onto his back so you could rest your head on his chest. Which made Jacce’s cheek heats up and a small shudder traveled his body. We just had sex and he is still flustered by an action like this? You could hear his heartbeat grow faster under your ear, confirming your suspicions. You didn’t make a comment about it though. It would have only embarrassed him further and you were too tired for that. Also being intimate with him in such a way was definitely different. Not that it was a bad thing, on the contrary you really appreciated it. 

Then, you felt him gently trapping you between his arms and chest, nuzzling his cheek against your hair. No words were shared. Only enjoying each other's warm bodies and the tranquility of the night was enough. After a long time of cuddling, you finally tried to sit up by squirming out of his grasp, succeeding but only for Jacce to grab you by the waist. 

“I want to do it.” He mumbled with a sleepy voice, “let me take care of you.”

You chuckled, “I bet you can't even get out of bed.”

Jacce shook his head and tried to sit up like you did, only to rest his head on your shoulder. It took him a huge amount of effort to jump out of bed, still naked nonetheless, except for his collar and leash obviously. As you watched him leave, you layed back down and closed your eyes, relaxing to the distant sound of running water, slowly losing track of time. 

Soon enough you felt a presence looming over you.

“The bath is ready.” He whispered while caressing your arm. 

You rested yourself onto him as you walked out of the room. Since your eyelids were halfway closed, you couldn’t see how giddy Jacce was to do this with you. For him these “after care” moments were the ultimate proof that you really wanted him by your side. Why else would they want to cuddle or clean me? Either way, he knew for a fact that’s what he yearned to do with you.

The sensation of the cold tiles under your feet stimulated your brain enough to wake you up, but Jacce still made sure that you didn’t slip while entering the warm bath. Feeling the hot water wrap around you released all the tensions in your limbs. You let yourself sink to shoulder level, enjoying the sensation it was bringing you. The man waited for you to make some space for his tall figure before getting in as well. It was small for two people, forcing you to sit between his legs, your back resting on his chest. It was the first time you bathed together and he was thanking all the power of the universe that it made you two so close. Jacce started to run water over your body and rubbed his hands full of soap over your skin. He was cautious not to touch you inappropriately, asking you multiple times before cleaning your more private areas. He really was treating your body with utmost respect.  

“Did I do a good job?”

You nod, watching his hands go up and down your arm. 

“Let me do it next.”

After moving out of the tub to sit behind him, you started to do the same to Jacce, but every time you touched his skin small noises could be heard. You stretched your neck in an attempt to see his face. The flushed man noticed and seemed to feel even more guilty.

“I-I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable…” He mumbled, ashamed of being so responsive to you. He even grimaced as he recalled the similar reaction he had a few hours ago. 

“Didn’t I already tell you that it’s ok for you to react this way?” 

“Yay…” He looked down at the soiled water, “but I know that I can be a lot sometimes.” 

“I mean… having unusual reactions doesn't automatically make them bad, you know.” You stopped cleaning his shoulders to run your hands down his back, “it makes you stand out.”

You made sure there wasn’t any soap left on his back, before pressing your lips on it with a chaste kiss. Your actions and words shot directly to his dick. 

“You shouldn’t tease me like that…” He whined, flustered. 

Jacce was right. If you wanted to have a full night of sleep, working both of you up wasn’t the way to go. 

“I’m getting sleepy again.” You yawned, “we should go back to bed.” 

“You… you mean that I can sleep with you tonight!?” 

You hummed a melodic yes. 

Until now Jacce had been sleeping on the sofa since you weren’t ready to have him so close to you while unconscious. The first few nights you even locked the door of your bedroom and placed a lightweight object in front of it. A simple trick that would have indicated if he had picked the lock. Good thing for him that everything seemed in order every time you woke up in the night or in the morning.  

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So that was chapter four and I hope your horny people liked it! Next one will be more story focus and will go further on Jacce yandere side...

Fun fact: This was the first chapter I wrote for this entire story, so there might bee more grammatical errors in it

Like promise, here is the drawing for this chapter!

[haikyu-mp4]

High school sweethearts

“Did you hear about aone? I heard that he started dating that one popular girl! But you didn't hear that from me!!” – @sharkissm for my Gossip Event.

word count; 686 – f!reader

Aone did an uncharacteristic double take the first time it happened, the first time you came to one of his games and cheered for him after a successful block. You were of another world to him, so perfect in the way you were not only beautiful but also so kind and charismatic. People wanted to be around you, unlike Aone who always sat alone on the train.

So he also couldn’t believe it when you sat down beside him on the train one day, smiling so kindly and asking him if the seat was free. He nodded silently, gulping and fumbling with his fingers as you sat down. Your knee knocked into his and he almost felt like blushing. You’re just so cool.

“I watched your game the other day, it was awesome!” you gushed, flipping out your phone and showing him a video you had taken of him blocking the last point, then the camera turned to your face as you screamed in cheers for your school’s team. If he heard correctly, you even yelled his name in particular. “I would be so scared to break my fingers or something if I blocked like that.” As you said this, you held a hand out, showing off your perfect gel nails.

Aone admired them, making a sound of approval at the cool design in the school’s colours. “They are very pretty, breaking them or your fingers would be a shame.” It was said as a clear statement, and his deep voice made your eyes widen.

“Thank you,” you said softly at the compliment, eyes glittering. Surely, his eyes were betraying him because it looked like you were blushing too. “My nail artist is great…” And then you spent the rest of the train ride telling him about anything that came to mind, about your nails and your schoolwork and him.

A few days later, Futakuchi let out the biggest huh when you came to the gym doors and asked for Aone. “Class project?” he asked, somewhat protective of the big friendly giant.

“No,” you answered simply, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him as a playful challenge. “So? Can I talk to him?”

“We have to practise, princess-“ Futakuchi started, holding up his finger, only to be interrupted by a shadow behind him.

“I can take a short break.”

The captain turned around slowly to see his best friend, scrunching his nose trying to think of something to say before slumping his shoulders in defeat and stomping off. “Five minutes.”

You looked at Aone, the sparkle back in your eyes that he still couldn’t believe had anything to do with him. “Sorry. What did you need?”

Licking your lips and tucking some hair behind your ear, you asked him if he was free after practice, earning you a quick yes from Aone and a distant complaint from Koganegawa about team-building activities.

That evening you spent talking over your instant ramen cups in the closest konbibi became your first date.

And a first date eventually turned into dating.

Aone’s cheering squad was the loudest for every game, and you lavishly spoiled him with attention and care that made him feel like he was soft, not just big and scary.

In return, he gave you comfort and always listened. Whether it was seemingly meaningless yapping or serious conversations about life’s many trials, he was always there for you.

A power couple, one must admit.

Even Futakuchi admitted it after you got the principal to make all the arrangements for when they got to nationals in their third year, also making sure every student who could go, came to cheer for the Iron Wall.

And as Aone looked up at you in the stands, you cheered just as loudly as you did the first time he caught your eye, and you looked just as gorgeous to him no matter what happened. Even at night, all makeup off and bawling your eyes out over a sappy movie with toilet paper stuck in your nose to stop it from running.

Always his beautiful girlfriend, who just happened to be very popular.

masterlist

[shimonerin]

"Tell Me Why I Married You Again?"

Content: Half of the school ships the teacher and the coach, not knowing they're married

Tags: use of "ma'am/mrs." to the reader, fluff, bickering, old married couple vibes

Word Count: 848

The sound of fists smacking hard against the ball and the high-pitched squeak of the boys’ sneakers can be heard even before you could enter the gym. It’s 3 pm and, as usual, there was an ongoing session of volleyball training. Interhigh Preliminaries are near but that doesn’t mean you’re going to let this slide.

Pushing open the sliding doors, the warm air of, well, sweat filled the enclosure. One of the reasons you don’t like going here. 

“Hinata, nice spike! Keep it up!” Ukai’s loud, booming voice echoed throughout the gym. As expected, he didn’t really notice your presence, despite standing near the doorway. God, he is such an idiot sometimes.

“Hey, Keishin.” Your voice, low yet firm, seemed to catch the attention of everyone. Not exactly how you wanted this to happen.

Ukai seemed startled at your presence, his eyes widening and his mouth agape “Hey! Uh, (Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

With your hands on your hips, he knew exactly why you’re here. He just didn’t want to make a fool of himself. 

You could already see the shit-eating grins on some of the boys’ faces, specifically Tanaka and Noya’s. You rolled your eyes and stepped forward “Where are the jerseys? The principal has been grilling my ass over this for two days now.” You told him, a gaze that only an annoyed wife would give plastered on your face.

Last weekend, there was an emergency. Apparently, during one of their out-of-school jogs around the area, Hinata and Kageyama, expectedly, fell into one of the mud pits. This leads to Ukai having to take two of the spare school uniforms in your classroom, which you let him. What you didn’t know was the fact the principal was keeping tabs over these.

He crossed his arms over your chest, looking off to the side as he tried to explain, tumbling over some of the words “W-Well, you know I didn’t really had time to…wash it yet…with the store and the training and all…” His words sheepishly drawled across his lips.

You raised an eyebrow “Why did I know you would do that?”

“Oh, come on! I-I’ll wash it tomorrow, I promise! I’d even give it to the principal himself if you’re too busy!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head as he looks at you with a pleading look.

By this point, the boys are already snickering behind their back. Probably finding more ways to tease the both of you.

“Do you really think I’m stupid, Keishin?” You scoffed “I’m letting you do whatever so you better keep your word, you hear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Noya suddenly perked up from his place “Why don’t we just wash it for you, Coach? You should focus on taking Mrs. (Y/N) out for dinner tonight. She seems pretty pissed.”

Daichi smacked the back of his head as soon as his words left his mouth. But the others couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s a bit of an inside joke to the students to ship the both of you together. 

Ukai clicked his tongue at their antics “Hey, Noya, if you don’t zip your-”

“We were actually going to check out that new ramen place by the corner.” You quickly cut him off, leading to a lot of cheers and jeering among the gym.

Lots of “See? I told you they were dating!”, “Wait til everybody hears about this!”, and “I knew that the first time I saw Coach bring Mrs. (Y/N) a cup of coffee!”

Keishin had the brightest red on his cheeks, pinching the bridge of his nose. With all the (silly) bickering you do with your husband, it doesn’t hurt to tease him from time to time.

You turned back to the boys and furrowed your eyebrows “What do you mean dating? Didn’t you already know?”

A chorus of “Huh?” erupted from the team

You grabbed Keishin’s hand and held out the glinting wedding ring on his finger before putting up your hand in comparison “We’re married. For 3 years now. Ever wonder why we bicker so much?”

Needless to say word got out very, very quickly. And a string of new jokes by the Karasuno Volleyball Team were continuously thrown at Ukai every day. 

“You made my life miserable.” He groaned, resting his head on your shoulder while you were on the couch, grading some of your students’ assignments “You should pay for that.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“I don’t!”

You smirked to yourself, letting out a small chuckle. You ran your free hand over his hair, giving it a gentle massage “Alright, I’ll take it back. We’re divorced now, then?”

“No, God!” He’d shout, his head shooting up from your words as his eyebrows scrunched up together “You’re an asshole sometimes, you know that?”

You let out a low hum of amusement, turning to him with hearts in your eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder why I even let you put a ring on me.”

Ukai couldn’t understand how he can love someone more than he already does. He guesses you’re a living example of that.

[hoshifighting]

ok... so i've seen your amazing college fling works for seungcheol, jeonghan, and joshua.... but what about one for hoshi 👉👈

ONCE AGAIN I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

WARNINGS: freshmen!hoshi, late night practices, burn-out, shyness, sunbae!reader, fluff, a lil bit of angst.

WC: 2.8k of this... judge me 🗣needed to divide this into parts...

part 1 / part 2

college fling!hoshi that you clocked that he was a freshman by the very moment he stepped into the dance practice room. it started with the smell, honestly. freshman reek—like nervous sweat and too much axe body spray, paired with the faintest whiff of fear. baggy-ass hoodie that practically swallowed his arms, hands shoved deep in his pockets like they’d get fined if they came out, sneakers so new they squeaked against the gym floor. he looked young. not in a bad way, just in that “i’m not used to being left unsupervised” way.

he stood in the doorway like he didn’t know what to do with himself. everyone else was stretching, pulling their limbs into shapes human joints probably weren’t meant for, and there he was, swaying on the balls of his feet like a kid waiting to ask if they could borrow a crayon.

“you lost?” you called out, not even looking up from where you were sitting, tying your shoelaces.

“huh? n-no, i’m, uh—this is intro to hip-hop?”

the way he said it like a question had you biting back a grin. “yeah, you’re in the right place. c’mon in before the instructor roasts your ass for lurking.”

he shuffled in, taking a spot in the back corner like he was hoping no one would notice him. “i'm invisible if i stand still enough”, he thinks. but of course, everyone noticed him. new kid energy was impossible to ignore, and to top it off, he had that awkwardly cute thing going on. messy bangs falling into his eyes, face pink like he was one awkward comment away from combusting. his eyes, wide and curious, darting around like he was mentally cataloging every single thing in the room.

“you got a name, freshman?” you asked, leaning back on your hands as you watched him.

he blinked, like he didn’t realize you were still talking to him. “oh, uh, hoshi. i mean, soonyoung. but people call me hoshi.”

“cool. you dance before, hoshi?”

“alright, new guy!” the prof clapped his hands, dragging everyone’s attention. “show us a little freestyle! don't be shy...”

college fling!hoshi who freezes mid-blink, still thinking about your question. clutching his backpack straps so hard you thought they might snap. he turned to you, wide-eyed and panicked, like you could save him from the impending doom.

“relax,” you whispered, stepping closer, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “you do this and sunbae’s buying you dinner. whatever you want. ramen, fried chicken, you name it.”

he blinked, like the concept of being spoiled by you was enough to short-circuit his brain, but there was something there. a spark. like maybe he didn’t wanna flop in front of you.

“okay,” he mumbled, and you gave him a grin that could probably power a small city.

“attaboy,” you said, patting his shoulder as you turned back to the class.

by the end of the first class, he’d loosened up a bit—mostly because the instructor made everyone run through improv drills, and there was no room for shyness when you were flailing around to some experimental old-school rap track. you caught him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

college fling!hoshi who finally zipped up his backpack after what felt like an eternity, stood up, and immediately knocked over a water bottle with his foot. he muttered a quick, shy “sorry,” barely glancing at the offended plastic, and shuffled toward you. his shoulders were stiff, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack like they were the only things tethering him to this earth. you gave him a once-over, your phone in one hand, and a smirk playing at your lips. “you survived,” you said casually, and his grin was so tiny you almost missed it.

college fling!hoshi who started walking alongside you, a little too close like he didn’t know how to pace himself yet. every few steps, his elbow brushed yours, and he’d shift just enough to make it obvious he noticed. you didn’t say anything—just side-eyed him with a teasing smile that had his ears turning red.

college fling!hoshi who paused outside the building with you, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve as he asked, “so, uh… what do you like to eat?” his voice was barely louder than the passing breeze. you raised an eyebrow at him, tucking your phone into your pocket. “you’re really gonna let me pick, huh?” he nodded, determined, even as he shuffled his feet. “you said you’d spoil me,” he countered, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sass in his tone. you liked it.

college fling!hoshi who almost tripped on his untied shoelace when you said you’d pick a place, his backpack slipping off one shoulder as he bent down to fix it. he was mumbling something about bad luck when you crouched beside him, yanking the lace from his hands and tying it with a quick knot. “you’re gonna kill yourself before dinner at this rate,” you said, and the way he stared at you—wide-eyed, lips parted—made it feel like you’d just handed him the keys to the kingdom.

college fling!hoshi who sat across from you at the tiny chicken shop, looking at the menu like it was a math test. “it’s just chicken, dude,” you teased, propping your chin in your hand. he fumbled with the laminated page, finally blurting, “but what if I pick something too spicy?” you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, rookie, let me help you out.” you ended up ordering for both of you, and when the dish came, his eyes lit up.

college fling!hoshi who distractly puts too much sauce on his chicken wing and doesn’t notice because he was too busy grinning at your stories. “wait, wait—so you fell during a performance?” he asked, the sauce at the corner of his mouth. you groaned, throwing a napkin at him. “it wasn’t just a fall, okay? it was a crash,” you admitted, and his laugh was so loud the couple at the next table glanced over. “stop making fun of me or I’ll make you pay,” you threatened, and his face instantly sobered. “wait, what?”

college fling!hoshi who insisted on paying despite your earlier threats. he pulled out his wallet like it was some grand declaration of independence, only to hesitate when he realized he didn’t have enough cash. “um…” he started, cheeks burning. you rolled your eyes and handed your card to the cashier before he could protest. “rookie rule number one,” you said smugly, “always check your wallet before acting like a big shot.” he muttered something about repaying you, and you just laughed, nudging him toward the door.

college fling!hoshi who got lost again on the way back to his dorm, despite the fact that he’d been living there for a week. “are you serious right now?” you asked, watching him squint at the campus map on his phone. he scratched the back of his head, mumbling, “it all kinda looks the same at night.” sighing, you grabbed his phone, pulled up the map yourself, and started walking. “come on, hoshi-ya you’re hopeless.”

college fling!hoshi who walked beside you, hands in his pockets, quietly humming a tune you didn’t recognize. “what’s that?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. his eyes widened like he’d been caught. “oh, uh, just something I made up,” he admittedquietly. you stopped in your tracks, turning to him with a grin. “wait, you write music?” he shrugged, suddenly bashful. “a little… it’s not a big deal.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “nah, that’s cool as hell. show me sometime?”

college fling!hoshi who hesitated outside his dorm door, hand hovering over the handle. “thanks for… you know, today,” he said, glancing at you shyly. “and dinner.” you smirked, crossing your arms. “you earned it, rookie. but next time, you’re paying.” his smile stretched wide, and for a moment, he just stood there, like he didn’t want to go in. finally, he nodded, fumbling with the key. “goodnight, sunbae,” he said softly, and you had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you turned to leave.

college fling!hoshi who always trails behind you, holding onto the strap of your backpack like a lost puppy. “you’re gonna rip it, you know,” you tell him, but he just grins and tightens his grip. “you’re my sunbae. gotta make sure I don’t lose you.” it’s so dumb and cheesy that you flick his forehead, but your chest feels warmer anyway.

college fling!hoshi who managed to charm his way into your friend group like he’d been there all along. one of your music department friends spotted him loitering outside your lecture hall and asked, “is that the guy you’ve been dragging around campus?” you rolled your eyes, but hoshi smiled like he’d just won an award. “that’s me!” he said proudly, and somehow by the end of the conversation, they were swapping playlist recommendations.

college fling!hoshi who shows up at your dorm one night with a bruised knee and a sheepish smile. “i tripped during practice,” he admits, wincing as you drag him inside. “tripped or collapsed?” you demand, pointing at the ice pack in his hands. he shrugs, trying to play it off, but you’re already crouched in front of him, scolding him as you press the ice to his knee. “you should stop, sunbae its worried about you.” you mutter, and when he mumbles, “i’ll be fine,” you glare at him until he mutters an apology instead.

college fling!hoshi who gets into his first real argument with you after you find him practicing in an empty studio way past midnight. “what the hell are you doing?” you snap, flipping on the lights to find him mid-spin, sweat dripping down his face. “just a bit more,” he protests, breathless. “i need to get this routine perfect.” but you’re not having it. “perfect doesn’t matter if you’re too dead to perform, hoshi!” he flinches, wide-eyed, but you don’t stop. “you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. stop before you break something.” he looks at you, frustrated, and finally, he slumps onto the floor, whispering, “sorry, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who randomly shows up with snacks between your classes. “figured you’d be hungry,” he says, handing you a convenience store bag. you peek inside—your favorite drink and a pack of cookies. “didn’t know you were trying to bribe me,” you tease, taking a bite. “is it working?” he asks, grinning, and when you give him a thumbs-up, he beams like a kid on christmas morning.

college fling!hoshi who ends up crashing at your dorm after a long night of studying. he’s sprawled on your bed, one arm thrown over his face, while you sit cross-legged on the floor, typing away at your laptop. “you’re gonna fail if you don’t actually read the material,” you say, glancing up. he groans, rolling onto his side. “then i’ll just ask you to tutor me again,” he says, smirking, and you chuck a pillow at his head.

college fling!hoshi who catches you off-guard one day by slipping his jacket over your shoulders during a chilly walk across campus. “you looked cold,” he says simply, his voice softer than usual. you pull the fabric tighter around you, the faint scent of him lingering on it, and when you glance at him, he’s pretending to be super interested in a tree. “thanks,” you say quietly, and he shrugs, his ears turning pink as he mutters, “anytime, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who came back one day to the practice room after a late practice, two cans of soda in hand, humming to himself. “sunbae, I got—” his voice cut off when he saw you slouched on the floor, one hand clutching your forehead. “y/n?” he rushed over, dropping the sodas with a dull clunk. crouching in front of you, his voice softened. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you waved him off weakly. “just tired. it’s nothing.” but he didn’t buy it for a second.

college fling!hoshi who gently pried your hand away from your forehead, his fingers brushing against yours. “you’re burning up,” he said, his brow furrowing. “why didn’t you say anything?” you tried to sit up straighter, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “it’s fine, really. just pushed too hard today.” his expression tightened. “this isn’t fine, y/n. you shouldn’t have kept going if you felt like this.”

college fling!hoshi who helped you lean back against the mirror. “stay still, okay?” he murmured, crouching next to you. you gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “you’re acting like I’m dying, hoshi.” he didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “don’t joke about that,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of improvement.

college fling!hoshi who let you rest your head against his shoulder when you slumped forward again. “here, like this,” he said softly, adjusting so you were cradled in his arms. his hands were steady, one supporting your back and the other brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “just relax. you’re safe.” he started gently blowing on your face, the cool air soothing your heated skin. “better?” he whispered, his voice close enough to send a strange flutter through your chest.

college fling!hoshi who stayed with you until you could sit up on your own again, his arm still lingering behind your back just in case. “you scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “i thought… what if something happened and I wasn’t here?” you blinked up at him, guilt bubbling in your stomach. “sorry,” you muttered. his hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “just don’t do it again, okay? i mean it, you always scold me for practicing too late...”

college fling!hoshi who refused to let you walk home by yourself, no matter how many times you insisted you were fine. “nope, not happening,” he said firmly, slipping your bag over his shoulder along with his own. “if you collapse halfway there, what am I supposed to do? carry you like a princess?” you snorted, but the teasing tone in his voice couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.

“you know, I could really get used to you carrying me around,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. he raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh, really?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah,” you said, deadpan, “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute guy carrying them everywhere?”

college fling!hoshi who, despite the teasing tone in your voice, caught that little glint in your eye. “alright, then,” he said, voice suddenly serious, as he paused in front of you. “come here.” without waiting for a response, he slid his arms under your knees and around your back. you yelped in surprise, but before you could protest, he had you lifted off the ground like you were weightless. “you wanted it, right?” he said with a grin, carrying you like it was nothing. “not a word out of you until we get to your dorm.”

“you’re a natural at this,” you teased, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you from passing out on me,” he muttered, but his cheeks were flushed, and his hands felt like they were holding you just a bit too tightly. “this isn’t bad,” you added with a smirk, “maybe I’ll start making demands. like, no more walking for me from now on.”

he blushed at your joke but didn’t miss a beat. “you sure about that?” he asked, glancing down at you with a sly smile. you nodded, playing along. “definitely. I’m a princess now. I’ll need snacks, water, a blanket... and don’t forget the back rubs.” hoshi shook his head, clearly trying to hide his amusement. “I’m pretty sure you’re taking this way too far, but okay,” he said, adjusting his grip on you. “I can do all that...”

“deal. but only if you don’t drop me halfway there,” you teased. hoshi’s grip tightened, his voice lowering a little. “I’ll never drop you, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who made it to your dorm room, still carrying you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I should’ve known you’d enjoy this,” he said, shaking his head as he set you down on your bed. “enjoy what?” you asked innocently, grinning up at him. “this whole ‘being carried around’ thing,” he said, still laughing a little. you shrugged dramatically.

college fling!hoshi who would come up to you after class, always fussing over you—was your shoulder okay? did you stretch enough? how was your lunch? you’d always brush it off, sulking a little at the way he took care of you like it was his full-time job.

[ducktoo]

Drunken Oopsie

Kang Hyewon x M!Reader

Note: damn haven't been paying attention to Kwangbae for a hot minute. I missed the good ol' Kangbi and Hyeyul man TT

Also double upload ha! Little treat for many supports from yall!

It was supposed to be a quiet Friday night. A ramen-and-rom-com kind of evening where the biggest decision you had to make was whether or not to eat the ice cream sitting in your freezer. But as usual, life—or more specifically, Kang Hyewon—had other plans for you.

The sharp buzz of your phone against the coffee table shattered the serenity of your apartment. You glanced at the screen and frowned.

Kwon Eunbi.

That wasn’t a call you got often, and definitely not at this time of night.

“Hello?” you answered, the faintest edge of concern creeping into your voice. "Noona?"

“Y/n!” Eunbi’s exasperated tone hit you immediately. “Hyewon’s drunk. Again. And guess what? She’s been saying your name like a damn spell!”

Your stomach dropped. “She’s what?”

“Saying. Your. Name,” Eunbi groaned, clearly annoyed. “It’s been going on for twenty minutes, and honestly, I’m over it. You need to come get her before I leave her here to fend for herself.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the familiar mix of frustration and worry building in your chest. “Where is she?”

“Blue Haven Bar,” Eunbi said. “And hurry up. She’s one terrible karaoke attempt away from getting kicked out.”

“She promised me she’d cut back,” you muttered under your breath, already grabbing your jacket.

“Yeah, well, her promises seem to expire after happy hour,” Eunbi snapped. “Just get here.”

She hung up before you could respond, leaving you to stare at your phone in disbelief. A long sigh escaped your lips. You weren’t even mad at Eunbi for being snippy—dealing with a drunk Kang Hyewon would test anyone’s patience.

Abandoning your half-eaten ramen and the rom-com still playing on the TV, you grabbed your keys and stormed out.

-

The scene at Blue Haven Bar was exactly what you’d expected. The place was packed, the music loud enough to make your head ache, and the air thick with the smell of alcohol and desperation.

You spotted Eunbi immediately. She stood near the bar, arms crossed and looking like she was ready to murder someone. Next to her, perched precariously on a stool, was Kang Hyewon.

Hyewon was a mess. Her hair was disheveled, her cheeks flushed, and she was swaying slightly to music that wasn’t even playing.

“There you are,” Eunbi said, relief and irritation warring in her voice as you approached. “Took you long enough.”

“I came as fast as I could,” you shot back, your eyes narrowing as they landed on Hyewon.

“Y/n-ahh!” Hyewon exclaimed, her face lighting up the moment she saw you. She attempted to stand, only to stumble and nearly fall.

You rushed forward, grabbing her arm to steady her. “Hyewon, what the hell?”

She blinked up at you, her lips curling into a goofy smile. “You caaame,” she slurred, leaning heavily against you.

“Of course, I came,” you said, exasperation creeping into your voice. “What were you thinking? Drinking this much again? You promised me—”

“Promises, shmomises,” she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “I missed you, so I drank.”

You stared at her, your jaw tightening. “That makes zero sense.”

“Welcome to my world,” Eunbi muttered. “She’s been like this all night. Good luck getting anything rational out of her.”

Hyewon’s eyes darted to Eunbi, and she pouted. “Eunnie, you’re so mean. Y/n’s nicer. That’s why they came.”

“I came because you’re a frigging mess,” you corrected, the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. “Not because I’m nice.”

She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like you’d just insulted her entire existence. “You don’t mean that!”

You groaned, rubbing your temple. “Okay, that’s enough. We’re leaving. Now.”

“Finally,” Eunbi said, throwing her hands in the air. “She’s all yours. Don’t let her puke in your car.”

Hyewon clung to you as you guided her toward the exit, her legs wobbling like a newborn deer. “Y/n’s the best,” she declared loudly, earning a few amused glances from nearby patrons.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, feeling your face heat up. “Let’s just get out of here.”

-

The walk to the taxi stand was slow and frustrating. Hyewon alternated between dragging her feet and stumbling forward, forcing you to practically carry her.

“You’re mad,” she said suddenly, her voice soft and almost childlike.

“You think?” you snapped, not even bothering to hide your irritation. “You promised me you’d stop drinking like this. Do you know how worried I was when Eunbi called?”

She frowned, her lips trembling slightly. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Then why do you keep doing this?” you demanded, stopping to look at her. “Why can’t you just call me when you’re upset instead of drowning your problems in alcohol?”

Her gaze dropped to the ground, and for a moment, she looked genuinely remorseful. “I… I didn’t want to bother you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at her, your frustration momentarily giving way to disbelief.

“Bother me? Hyewon, you could never bother me.”

She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you said, sighing. “But this? Making me come pick you up every time you drink yourself into oblivion? This is what bothers me.”

Her bottom lip quivered, and she nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.”

You exhaled sharply, the tension in your chest easing ever so slightly. “Let’s just get you home.”

As you flagged down a taxi, Hyewon leaned against you, her head resting on your shoulder. “You smell nice,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the fabric of your jacket.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Don’t try to butter me up, Kang Hyewon. You’re still in trouble.”

She giggled softly, her breath warm against your neck. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you lied, though the tightness in your voice betrayed you.

“Liar,” she whispered, her tone teasing despite the exhaustion lacing her words.

You sighed, already dreading the conversation you knew you’d be having with her later.

-

The taxi pulled up in front of your apartment complex, and Hyewon, who had fallen silent for most of the ride, suddenly perked up.

“This isn’t my house,” she mumbled, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings.

“You’re in no shape to go home alone,” you replied, stepping out and helping her stumble out of the car. “You’re staying at my place tonight.”

She didn’t protest, but as you guided her to your apartment, she kept muttering under her breath, her words slurred and barely coherent.

“Y/n is so nice… always taking care of me… but also so mean…”

“What was that?” you asked, shooting her a side-eye as you unlocked the door.

“Nothing!” she chirped, then giggled like she’d just gotten away with the world’s greatest secret.

Once inside, you helped her settle on the couch. She slumped against the cushions, her head lolling back as she sighed dramatically.

“Water,” you said, placing a glass in her hand. “Drink all of it.”

She obeyed, though with the coordination of a toddler, spilling a little on her shirt. She looked down at the wet spot and pouted.

“Awwww” she whined, her voice dragging out your name. “You’re so bossy.”

“You’re so irresponsible,” you shot back, folding your arms.

Her pout deepened, and for a moment, she looked like a chastised puppy. Then she burst into laughter, completely ignoring your frustration.

“What’s so funny?”

“You,” she said, grinning up at you. “You’re always so serious. It’s cute.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Ya, Kang Hyewon, I don’t think you understand how worried I was tonight.”

Her smile faltered, and she sat up slightly, tilting her head. “You were worried?”

“Of course I was worried!” you snapped, the frustration you’d been holding back spilling out. “You promised you’d slow down, Hyewon. You promised! And instead, I get a call from Eunbi saying you’re drunk out of your mind and repeating my name in some bar!”

“I didn’t mean to…” she mumbled, her voice small.

“You never mean to,” you said, softer now but still firm. “But you can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to me—or to yourself.”

She blinked at you, her expression unreadable. Then, out of nowhere, she started laughing again, the sound bright and disarming.

“Hyewon,” you said, your tone a warning. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know,” she said between giggles. “I know it’s not funny. But you’re just… you’re so…”

“So what?” you asked, exasperated.

“So perfect,” she blurted out, then slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as if she’d just revealed the world’s biggest secret.

“What?”

Her cheeks turned crimson, the blush creeping all the way to her ears. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Hyewon,” you said, stepping closer, “what did you mean by that?”

“I meant what I said,” she mumbled, looking anywhere but at you. “You’re perfect. You always take care of me. You always show up when I need you. You… you’re everything I could ever want.”

Your heart stopped.

She looked up at you then, her eyes glassy but filled with a sincerity that cut through the fog of her drunkenness. “I like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you for a long time. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric.

“Hyewon…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Wait!” she said, holding up a finger. “Don’t say anything yet. I… I know I’m drunk, and maybe I’ll regret this tomorrow, but right now… I just needed you to know.”

She slumped back against the couch, her eyes fluttering closed. “I’m sorry if this ruins everything,” she murmured, her voice fading. “But at least now you know.”

You stood there, frozen, watching her as she drifted off to sleep. The confession echoed in your mind, over and over, until you finally let out a shaky breath.

“Kwangbae…” you whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re an idiot. But I like you too.”

-

The next morning, Hyewon woke up to the smell of coffee and a pounding headache.

She groaned, sitting up slowly and clutching her head. “What happened last night?”

“You got drunk. Again,” you said, handing her a cup of coffee. “And you confessed.”

Her eyes snapped to yours, wide with panic. “I… I what?”

“You confessed,” you repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “Told me I’m perfect and everything you could ever want.”

Hyewon looked like she wanted the couch to swallow her whole. “Oh my god. Kill me now.”

“Not before I tell you I like you too,” you said, your tone light but your words serious.

She froze, her jaw dropping. “Wait. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, sitting down next to her. “Now, are you going to let me take care of you properly, or are you going to keep being a mess?”

Her cheeks flushed, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “Only if you promise to not be bossy about it.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling back. “Hell no.”

The silence that followed was surprisingly comfortable. Hyewon sipped her coffee, her eyes darting to you every few seconds like she was still trying to process everything.

“So…” she started, breaking the quiet, “what now? Do we, like, plan a date or something? Or do we just sit here awkwardly pretending I didn’t embarrass myself last night?”

You smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Oh hell no, we’re absolutely never letting you forget last night.”

Hyewon groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

“Buuuuuutttt…” you added, your voice softening, “I think a date sounds nice.”

She peeked at you through her fingers, her expression cautious but hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, nudging her shoulder gently. “Though, if you pull another stunt like last night, I might have to reconsider.”

“I won’t,” she said quickly, sitting up straighter. “I promise. No more drunk Hyewon.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“…fine, no more out of control drunk Hyewon,” she amended, grinning sheepishly.

“Yeah, sounds better alright.” you said with a chuckle.

The two of you sat there for a while, sipping coffee and letting the morning sunlight stream in through the windows. It felt… easy, like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

“Ya…” Hyewon said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, biting her lip before meeting your gaze. “Thanks for always taking care of me. Even when I don’t deserve it.”

“You always deserve it, Hyewon,” you said, your tone firm. “But you’re welcome.”

Her cheeks flushed again, and she looked down at her coffee, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“So, about that date…” she said, her voice teasing now. “I’m free tonight. You?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You just want to make sure I don’t ditch you after last night, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” she said, grinning.

“Well,” you said, leaning closer, “lucky for you, I’m free too.”

Her grin widened, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was exactly how it should be. And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something worth every bit of chaos Kang Hyewon brought into your life.

[yikesmary]

PREGNANCY CRAVINGS — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where being pregnant comes with its struggles, and one of them just so happens to be the random pregnancy cravings. so, in the middle of the night, you try to sneak out and go to the convenience store nearby and buy something to satisfy your craving. however, your husband wakes up and insists to accompany you—even if he’s barely awake.

notes: the convenience store i've pictured in mind are like the ones i've seen in korea. but i don't really address where this occurs in, so use your imagination!

disclaimer: i'm not pregnant or have been pregnant so everything i write about pregnancy is most likely not true and therefore shouldn't be taken as fact (unless it's true, but make sure it's validated by an actual medical professional).

join my taglist!

“Oh, Cheol, you absolute asshole,”

You tried using all your strength to push your husband’s sleeping figure away from you, the heat coming from his body was too much for you. Trying to move him away was an obstacle, especially because he was working out more as of lately.

But finally, you had managed to cause enough noise in trying to move him that Seungcheol finally moved himself, scooting more onto his side.

You looked down at your pregnant belly and told your unborn child, “All that effort I put into moving him, and all he has to do is move himself?”

Huffing, you stood up and went to your closet, looking for an appropriate shirt to change into in order to go to the convenience store. In hindsight, you could probably have used your phone to order something, but the problem was you didn’t know what you were craving.

You knew that the baby was craving something, but didn’t know what. So, you decided that you were going to walk to the store and let the baby decide while walking through the aisles.

You rummaged through your clothes before going through Seungcheol’s side of the closet. As the pregnancy goes on, you’ve found yourself wearing more of Seungcheol’s clothes since they seemed to fit you better and were comfier than the maternity clothes that you never wore.

"What are you doing?"

You turned around in surprise to see Seungcheol standing, looking quite comfy in his pajama pants and a random old shirt. Being the one for dramatics (which you probably got from your husband), you put your hand on top of where your heart was. "You scared me! I think I almost gave birth then," you said.

He rolled his eyes and then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

"Oh, I was gonna go to the convenience store. The baby wants to eat something," you told him.

"Can't the baby wait for the morning?"

"The baby wants to eat, now."

"Then why don't you order something?"

"The baby doesn't know what to eat," you sheepishly said.

He looked at you for a moment, before reaching behind you to grab a hoodie. "Fine, let's go," he said, turning to leave yours and his' bedroom.

"I'm fine on my own," you insisted.

"You're pregnant and it's two in the morning. I'm coming with you," Seungcheol said, before yawning.

"Cheol, you're barely awake enough to be coming with me. You need your sleep," you gently said, but he was stubborn.

"I'm suddenly hungry too, so I'll just come with you to buy some food," he said.

Once you and Seungcheol entered the convenience store, you were greeted by the quietness of the place and the single employee that was stood behind the cash register.

You looked around the aisles while your husband followed not too far away from you. "Choose what you want, I'll be paying," he instructed and you didn't bother to argue, considering he always insisted on paying.

Wandering around, you grabbed your favorite snacks, a couple ramen cups, and a few of Seungcheol's favorite foods. Realizing that you should've gotten a basket, you looked at Seungcheol, who seemed to be amused with your current predicament of full hands.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny!" you whined, but he only seemed to amuse further with your comment.

Wordlessly, he left the aisle to grab a basket. When he returned with the basket, you dumped everything in it, and he carried it while you walked around the aisles one last time.

After making sure you didn't want anything else, Seungcheol went to the register, with you waddling behind him.

"Was it worth it to ruin our sleeping schedules for this?" Seungcheol teased, and you nodded with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

He shook his head but opened his mouth and you put a chopstick with ramen noodles on it in his mouth. "Not bad," he said and you beamed at his compliment.

"Is the baby satisfied with the food?"

"Yep, and the baby is finally tired enough to sleep," you said.

Waddling to your bedroom, with Seungcheol not too far from you, you settled into your bed, and closed your eyes.

"Sweetie?"

"Yes, Cheol?"

"I can't sleep now,"

[bluejutdae]

82 with Chan please? 😊

82. You’re not wearing a bra + Chan

You just brought him, Changbin and Jisung some instant ramen, otherwise they’d forget to eat again. The room is too warm, hours of laptops and other devices overworking, plus three grown man acting like kids. Removing your sweatshirt is the next logical move, as you’re wearing a loose shirt underneath. Chris’s loose shirt. According to the glare Chan’s sending your way, you might as well just have killed a puppy. You raise an eyebrow, asking what’s wrong. He moves his eyes, down and back up, then he looks his friends. “Uh?” Toh really can’t understand why he’s being weird, but you got distracted by a joke Jisung just made. After a few minutes, even Changbin and Jisung sense that something’s wrong, because Chris is awfully quiet and sulking. Thinking you two had a fight, they leave the room with an excuse, giving you the chance to talk.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“It’s- you-“ Chris stutters and then point both his hands towards your chest, in an explanation. The shirt is loose on you, but not enough to hide completely your boobs. Like this, the curve of your tits is clear but not too noticeable if you’re not looking.

“What?”

“You’re not wearing a bra. They can see your tits!”

You try to hide your smile, but it’s too hard. Your boyfriend is so sweet and so cute. “Are you jealous, my baby?” He shakes his head, murmuring a ‘no’ (he’s a lying liar - his pout is proof enough). You walk to him to stand between his patted legs as he’s sitting on his chair, caress his cheek and pass your fingers between his curls, reassuring him. He has zero reasons to be jealous.

He looks around, and taking advantage of the absence of the others, he rests his head on your chest, then he nuzzles his face between your boobs. “I love them so much”, he says and now you really can’t hold back your laugh. He rest his chin on your sternum, looking up to you from his lower position. “Only I can get to see them, right?” You nod and leave a chaste kiss on his nose, “only yours”. He nods as much as he can in this position, then moves his face just a little, just enough to use his tongue to try and find your nipple to tease it and see it harden under his attention. He sucks it between his soft fat lips and sucks, making you squirm and sending an electrical shiver directly down your core, and leaving a dark patch of saliva on your (his) shirt.

Suffice to say, as soon as Changbin and Jisung are back, you are back in your sweatshirt, and it doesn’t matter if your checks are red and too warm…

[magnagaruzenmon]

Recuperation

Okay now y’all are stuck with me for a while until Dinozen finishes his massive stories.

After a long day at work, you finally had the apartment to yourself. You dropped your bag by the door, kicked off your shoes, and shuffled into the kitchen. Tonight called for something simple—instant ramen with an egg and whatever leftover vegetables you could scavenge from the fridge.

With a steaming bowl, you sank onto the couch, remote in hand, ready to lose yourself in some anime. It took you about ten minutes of scrolling to land on Kaiju No. 8. The title floated online for a while, and curiosity finally won. From the first episode, you were hooked.

There was something about Kafka—the way he struggled with his responsibilities, the weight of his unfulfilled dreams—that felt oddly familiar. Sure, you weren't dealing with kaiju or life-or-death stakes, but the longing to be more, to be something greater, resonated in a way you didn’t expect. You leaned forward, ramen forgotten, completely immersed.

So much so that you didn’t even hear the door open.

“Hey, babe,” Tsuki’s cheerful voice cut through the action on-screen.

You flinched, fumbling for the remote and pausing the episode mid-explosion. Turning toward her, you found her standing in the doorway, framed by the warm glow of the hallway light. Her work bag was slung over one shoulder, and her dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders, a few strands clinging to her face from the cool night air.

“Oh, hey!” you said, still recovering from the surprise. “How was your day?”

“Long,” she said with a dramatic sigh, running her hands through her hair in mock exhaustion. Then she glanced at you, her lips quirking into a playful smile. “What about you?”

“Same,” you replied, matching her sigh for effect.

She laughed softly, setting her bag down by the door before crossing the room to sit beside you on the couch. The scent of her perfume—subtle, floral—cut through the lingering smell of ramen, a comforting contrast. She leaned in and kissed your cheek, her lips warm and soft.

“What are we watching?” she asked, her eyes flicking to the screen.

“Kaiju No. 8,” you answer, handing her the remote so she can read the episode description. “Just started it. Have you ever heard of it?”

Tsuki raised an eyebrow, scrolling through the details. “Mmm, I think Sua might have mentioned it once. Said it’s about a guy who turns into a kaiju, right? Sounds like your kind of thing.”

You chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” she teased, nudging me with her elbow. “Big monsters, lots of fighting, some tragic backstory—sounds like you.”

You rolled your eyes, but her smile was infectious. “Well, it’s good so far,” you said, gesturing toward the screen. “Want to watch with me?”

She tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, I was thinking of a bath and bed, but… sure. I’ll give it one episode. You can’t complain if I fall asleep halfway through, though.”

“No promises,” you said, grinning.

Tsuki tucked her legs under her as she got comfortable, resting her head against your shoulder. You hit play, and the room filled with the sound of explosions, roaring kaiju, and Kafka’s determined voice.

As the episode unfolded, Tsuki occasionally murmured comments—mostly teasing ones about the characters or the animation—but it was clear she was getting into it.

“You’re really good at understanding this now,” she said suddenly during a quiet scene.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard.

“Your Japanese, it's gotten better,” she said, gesturing toward the screen. “I remember when you’d have to pause every five minutes to look something up. Now you’re keeping up with all this kaiju jargon like it’s nothing.”

You felt your cheeks heat a little. “Well, I’ve been practicing. Plus when I was a kid I used to watch Godzilla all the time and a lot of the jargon is the same… I guess I have a pretty great tutor.”

Tsuki grinned, her cheek resting against your shoulder. “Damn right, you do.”

The episode continued, but your focus shifted. You made the mistake of glancing at Tsuki, who was sprawled comfortably on the couch. Her hair was slightly messy from the day, her makeup faded but was still perfect to you. She looked so effortlessly sultry yet so at home, and it broke your brain for a second.

“You’re so hot,” you blurted.

Tsuki sat up slightly, her eyes wide with mock disbelief. “Excuse me?”

"I said you’re so hot,” you repeated, more confidently this time. “Like, you just walk in here, hair all messy, talking about kaiju and complimenting my language skills—how am I supposed to focus on anything else?”

She laughed, her face lighting up in a way that made your chest feel warm. “You say the most random things sometimes,” she said, leaning in to kiss you. “But I’ll take it.”

The kiss lingered for a moment before she pulled back, her eyes soft. “Alright, let’s see if Kafka can beat that.”

“Good luck to him,” you muttered, earning another laugh.

As the episode ended and the credits rolled, Tsuki let out a contented sigh. “Okay, I see the appeal. Maybe I’ll stick around for a few more episodes. But first—” she stretched and yawned, “—I’m grabbing some of that ramen you’re hoarding. Save the next one for me?”

“Actually, I’ll do you one better,” you said, getting up and heading into the kitchen. Tsuki followed, curious. “Sit tight—I’m making breakfast ramen for you.”

Her eyes sparkled under the low light of the apartment. “Your famous breakfast ramen?” she asked, her voice laced with excitement. You nodded, already pulling ingredients from the fridge.

When you slid the steaming bowl across the counter to her, she took her first bite, her eyes widening like a kid opening a gift. “Ah, so cute,” you teased, and she blushed, mumbling something about how unfairly good it was.

“You ever think about becoming a chef?” she joked, savoring another bite.

You laughed but decided to bring up something you've been meaning to tell her. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about pursuing something new.”

Tsuki paused, her chopsticks mid-air. “You’re not leaving me, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said quickly. “But I’ve been working on getting my pilot’s license—helicopters, planes, the works.”

Her eyes widened with admiration. “Wow. First photography, now flying? You’re really living up to that Nigou comparison.”

You rolled your eyes as she laughed. “Hey, I need something to do while you’re busy being a superstar.”

Tsuki gave you one of her smiles—the kind that radiated love and warmth, the kind that made everything else fade into the background.

“What are you staring at?” she asked, tilting her head cutely.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you said, grinning.

She pouted, poking me with her chopsticks. “Fine, but only because you’ve been pampering me all night.”

You smiled as she finished up, then her eyes took on a different kind of hunger. She abandoned her bowl before approaching me.

"You know it's been a little while since we've had alone time like this," she says, with a sultry tone. You blink at her a few times until she brings you in for another kiss. This kiss brings with it her hands wrapping around your shoulders, as she brings you in close her tongue finds its way into your mouth. Tsuki breaks the kiss and then says, "I always love how sweet you smell. Whether it's vanilla oranges or blueberries. You always smell like dessert, and I think I'm in the mood for some right now."

Tsuki pulls you in for another kiss as your hands wrap around her and dance around her svelte body. You smile into the kiss as she continues to kiss deeper.

"Fuck!" she groans before guiding you to the bedroom. She lifts up her top and her petite and pert breasts greet you. She smiles and then says, "Take that cock out," You shrug and oblige her as she smiles before taking you into her mouth. Her pouty lips spread all around your cock as she begins to slide up and down your length. You moan and Tsuki says,

"you like that," as she speaks she slowly rubs your shaft before taking you back into her mouth. She lightly bites the tip causing a bizarre sense of pleasure that almost makes you explode then and there. Tsuki smiles and groans around your cock.

"Please cum for me, baby. I want my cream for dessert," she says, and that's what gets you as you pour hot cum down her gullet. And Tsuki smiles around your cock before lifting herself up.

"Thanks for dessert, now let's continue this in the bathroom so we can both get clean," she says.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

[wip!] the art & science of parenting || jay park

update: this fic's been posted!! click here to read!

a/n: hellaur everyoneeee here's a lil summary & drabble into another wip i'm working on rn,,,i had this idea in the back of my head for SO incredibly long (im talking since 2021 pls) and decided to finally go for it :') so here's a lil peek for the time being to prove i'm still alive heh. i hope you guys like this concept,,,idk why but i really envisioned jay in this trope maybe because i plan on making it very fun & lighthearted but mixed in with some serious & angsty tones...we shall seeeee....you know i love my college!aus and e2l!aus heheh anyways saur sorry im yapping now! lmk what you think & if you want to be tagged !!

genre: jay x female!reader, fluff, comedy, college!au, enemies to lovers!au, parenting!au (parenting a robot baby LMAO), sum angst maybe, both reader & jay are smartasses who don't know how to communicate and confront their feelings , also a bit of photographer!jay :')

summary: The Art & Science of Parenting 101 (PSY1009) – In this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. Through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child.' Late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal. What you didn’t expect to be part of the deal? Getting paired with Jay Park—the last person you’d trust to raise, well, anything. You’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. Now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade.  Warning: Sleep deprivation is guaranteed. And maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. Good luck!

longer drabble under cut! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Y/N and Jay."  

Wait. What?  

Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.  

You blink. You must have misheard.  

"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."  

The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.  

And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.' 

"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.  

You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.  

But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.  

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you. "You don't want to play house with me?"  

You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. "I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you." 

Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?" 

"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply." 

"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life. And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he breathes in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.

Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.  

Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.  

While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.  

Your grade? Plummeting as we speak.  Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two.  And you?  

You're screwed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

decided to go for a longer sneak peek than usual bc im very excited about this one heh :) i also changed up my title image formatting..trying out smth new !!!

lmk if you want to be tagged!

<3, addie

[anisespice]

12:34am — manjiro sano

Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming.

As soon as they were situated in a secluded area of the quaint, little ramen bar they occasionally visited, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that wouldn’t relent until it revealed itself. The next thing MIKEY knew, right after the server placed steaming food on the table and left the room, a gaggle of low-rate thugs came barreling in, guns drawn and aimed practically in his face with misplaced confidence. He didn’t even flinch, just set his chopsticks back down with a slow exhale through his nose.

“Can I at least eat a little before you try to kill me?” Mikey muttered, disinterested gaze briefly scanning over the opposition, sizing them up. Wack.

“Your last meal’s finna be this bullet, asshole. This what happens when you fuck with the Tokyo Vipers. We don’t care how tough you are, you’re gonna pay for what you did to Boss Nakashima!”

“Who?” Clearly, not the response they were looking for.

A stand-off commenced, his executives quick to pull out their own weapons, choosing a target with full intent to kill. The one guy focused on Mikey remained adamant to land one right between his eyes, resolve unshakable even with two or three guns aimed back at him. He’d give the idiots credit for boldness. Not everyday does the common thug grow the balls to try something with Bonten.

Unfortunately, they chose the wrong night to chase retribution.

“M-Manjiro…what’s happening?”

At the meek sound of your voice, he subtly reached for you under the table. You practically shook like a leaf, doe-eyes wide at the sight of a gun aimed at your lover with hands raised high as if you were also to blame—Definitely not the ‘simple night out’ you anticipated when he invited you to tag along. It was his own fault really, thinking simple was ever an option when it came to his reputation, not even for a night.

“A-Are they gonna kill us?” You cried, scooting closer to lean against his frame for more comfort. It made him relax a smidge, taking it as a good sign. “Please, j-just name your price, whatever the number, and it’s yours! You don’t have to do this-”

“Unless your money can bring back the dead, sweetheart, you can shove it up your ass!”

Mikey felt you jolt. Sparing you a side glance, his thumb caressed your thigh in small, reassuring circles. His poor baby, must be scared out of your mind. The blonde wanted nothing more than to shatter every bone in the bastards who put such an expression on your face.

“Let my girl step out. This doesn’t involve her.”

“The bitch stays. Want ‘er to watch you die.” The assailant hissed, thrusting the gun forward to bump against Mikey’s forehead.

His brow twitched in annoyance, grip around your thigh tightening ever so slightly as his mind filled with various ways to snap the guy’s arm without you bearing witness. The last thing Mikey wanted was you being afraid of him. You were a slice of normalcy in his chaotic life. Call him selfish, but he wanted you to stick around despite the ugly parts of it, hoping to hide it for as long as he could. Evidently, it was short-lived.

He knew he didn’t deserve it. You were too pure for a tainted soul like his, too soft for someone who’d been hardened by life, too—

“Bitch? ”

The whole room came to a halt.

All eyes had flicked over to you, uncertain if that bone-chilling tone came out of such a meek little thing, who not even seconds ago was visibly trembling. Now you were still as stone, delicate features no longer consumed by fear but contempt as you stared down the man with a slight tilt in your head. Even with tears clinging to your lashes, it was very unsettling.

You gave a hollowed chuckle. “Oh, you got me fucked up.”

The assailant blinked. “Wha-?”

“Shut up, let me tell you something,” you abruptly stood, nearly giving the Bonten men heart palpitations, fearing your next sudden move might be your last. Mikey, however, merely watched in stunned silence, hand that comforted you now hovering awkwardly as he blinked up at you. Jabbing a finger into the man’s chest, you hissed, “You can come up in here waving guns all you want, but I’ll be damned if some limped-dick, broke motherfucker calls me out my name.”

He gaped, then fixed his mouth to threaten you. “Sit your ass down before I make you regret ever meeting this scumbag, you little—”

With a quickness, you swing with a crisp thwack! to the side of his head. The room clamored about, even Mikey found himself blinking rapidly at not only your swiftness, but your audacity. With the opposition aiming their guns on you immediately, the executives instantly jetted their attention over to Mikey to gauge his reaction. He remained visual unnerved, save for the slight drop in his jaw.

“SHIT—FUCK,” the man yowled, stumbling back. With his ear ringing, vision blurring with tears, it was a wonder where you kept all that unbridled strength. Was this the same person who feared for their life not even moments ago? When he clumsily regained composure, he looked at you utterly stunned. “D—…Did you just fucking slap me? Have you lost your mind, you crazy—?!”

You raised your hand, making him flinch. “Say it again. I dare you.”

Flabbergasted. Shockandawe. Slightly aroused?

That was the consensus of every gun-wielder in the room, some more than others unable to mask the evident thrill from hearing such vulgar and venomous words drip from such a pretty mouth…Mikey being the first in line. Man’s still gawked with a glint in his eye that could only be described as carnal; since when had his kitten grown claws?

“GYAT.” Ran winced, then gave a snicker. That smack alone bounced off the walls, he just knew that had to smart. “Shake it off, buddy, shake it off.”

Sanzu, with a cackle, exclaimed, “Hit ‘em again!” earning a glare from the aggravated assailant, his gun now pointed at you and no longer on Mikey.

Kakucho grew anxious, the others just as on edge. If they didn’t take action soon, someone was bound to get trigger-happy. The situation was already unpredictable as is, but with your newfound attitude, things were sure to escalate fast. He gruffly voiced, “Boss, what’s our move?…Boss?”

Said blonde paid no kinds of attention.

Head void of any thought aside from your angelic form beneath the soft lighting standing your ground without an ounce of fear, one would think Mikey was in a trance. His bleak stare practically singed right through you, calculative as he watched your pristine facade unravel bit by bit—Such vicious words filled with vinegar and oil, a contrast to your usual peaches and cream, such discourtesy when you’re normally so well-mannered.

How long had you been hiding this side from him?

Mikey thought he had you figured out, from the moment you crossed paths he was certain he’d taint you, the walking cliche of a spoon-fed daddy’s girl who wouldn’t harm a fly, who dated bad boys just to feel something. But now? He wanted nothing more than to unravel you further, leaving you raw and exposed to reveal the devil horns you’d kept hidden behind a false halo.

And frankly, he wouldn’t mind an audience.

“Mikey.” Kakucho urged.

Said blonde hummed in acknowledgment, eyes lazily trailing off you and back at his number three, seemingly distracted. With a wordless exchange, he sighed. Just as things were getting interesting… Mikey reached up and gave the back of your thigh a tender squeeze. You turned to look at him, seething as you rebelled against his silent command. Oh, he’ll enjoy fucking that attitude out of you later.

“Sit down, [_____]. Think you’ve made your point.”

You sneered. “Like hell! My point’s been made when I have this dickhead crawling on his knees, begging for mercy—!”

Before you knew it, you’re grabbed by your thigh and pulled down into his lap. You yelped, arms instinctively shooting out to grab onto something until you landed with a small oof!

As you opened your mouth to protest, your breath hitched and the words catch in your throat at the cool feeling of Mikey’s gun now nudging against your clit through the lace of your underwear. A shutter ran through your body. Thankfully, your little display was enough cover for him to swiftly grab it from his side, playing it off as if he were restraining you.

He leaned in to speak low in your ear. “Cover your ears, baby.”

Goosebumps spread like wildfire across your skin, warmth simmering in the pit of your stomach from both frustration and excitement. Doing as you’re told, you pressed hands into your ears but kept your gaze on the offender in front of you. He was yelling about something, booming voice muffled but no doubt throwing out more threats. His group began to shrink within themselves once the severity of the situation caught up with them, and the odds no longer looked to be in their favor. You almost felt sorry for them; almost.

Before the poor bastard even knew what hit him, the smoking barrel of Mikey’s .45 was the last thing he saw before he hit the cold, hard floor with a hole in the center of his forehead. And just like that, bullets rained from every angle on your side of the room, bodies piling up one after the other until none were left standing. As quick as they came, there they went—Nothing more than stains on what was an originally calm evening.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Mikey could feel it elsewhere.

With his free hand having rested on your inner thigh, thumb dangerously close to where his pistol once was, he could feel a subtle pulse in your clit from the thrilling experience. While his men busied themselves cleaning up the scene, gathering corpses and making disposal arrangements, there was nothing left to distract him from prodding.

“It appears I’ve underestimated you. What other sides have you kept hidden from me, I wonder.” He said, tilting his head.

You whimpered as his thumb pressed against your throbbing little button, biting your lip before replying, “I-I just don’t like.. being talked to that way…”

Mikey hummed, nosing at your jaw. “My sweet girl. She got her feelings hurt, hm?”

It was hard to concentrate with him playing with you beneath the table in front of his subordinates, spreaking low and softly as he littered your sensitive spots with nips and warm kisses. With the little sanity you had left, you nodded. To your horror, you moaned quite loudly when he breached past your underwear to slip two fingers inside of you with ease thanks to your flooding arousal. But, you got over it the second he immediately curled them to hit that spongey area of your walls with a precision that nearly made you see stars.

“Your words, [_____]. You had a lot to say earlier, what happened?”

You gripped his forearm for dear life, jaw dropping as your legs subconsciously spread to give him better access. “Y-Yes!”

He cooed, arm flexing as he pushed his fingers deeper while his thumb stimulated your clit. Your back arched off his front, other hand reaching out to grip the table as you whined shamelessly at the ceiling. Neither of you paid any mind to where you were, or whomever watched, too caught up in the moment. Food had long gone cold and forgotten, bullet fragments scattered at your feet and blood splattered all on the walls. Even with his stomach growling angrily, all he could focus on was devouring you. “‘m sorry, baby. Let me make it all better.”

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[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Amane runs into the last person she thought she'd meet at the marketplace: Giyuu and his...fiancee...? A/N: Yes this is shorter and honestly I am not proud of the dialogue at the end but I hope dgbthnyuhntbgrbvf is happy with the request! I love the idea of Kagaya viewing all of this as some Taisho era K-Drama WARNINGS: None SUNNY'S TAGLIST: (comment if you wanna be added or removed) @abadonkori @therabbitthatpostthings @ezekieleen @giyuusluht @bisforbuse @dgbthnyuhntbgrbvf MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Vegetables? Yes. Fruits? Yes. Ramen? Yes.

These were just a few things Amane had expected to and had seen at the bustling market when she went shopping for tonight’s dinner ingredients with Hinaki and Nichika, alongside shouting salespeople, excitable kids, jewellery vendors, moseying stray cats and strolling couples with intertwined hands that evening, when the dipping sun cast a mellow golden glow over the stalls and heads.

The Water Pillar supposedly on a few days leave as part of a strolling couple with intertwined hands was not what she had expected to see.

The surprise of it all made her stop in her tracks, lingering in front of a vegetable seller. As far as Amane had known Tomioka had returned to Mount Sagiri to see his old sensei for unknown reasons, but she had put it down to homesickness or the like. To think that she would catch him here, of all places, hand in hand with a seemingly familiar young woman, leading her throughout the crowded marketplace and carrying bags full of shopping! Curious.

Amane's eyes trailed after the two, watching as Tomioka’s partner guided him through the crowds and stopped at stalls to make her selection, more often than not briefly bickering with Tomioka's insistence on paying for everything. They appeared to be buying similar things with her, so Amane surmised they must be planning to have dinner together. As far as she was aware Tomioka had no other family save for his late older sister, and anyhow the two didn't share any resemblance…Tomioka rarely socialized with the other Pillars as well, so who could he possibly be out with?

Her daughters continued to pick out the freshest ones, but it wasn't long before they noticed Amane continuously staring off at someone in the crowd with a stunned look in her eyes. Curious indeed; they quickly handed over the money before trying to look for the object of their mother's interest as well. They couldn't stand there forever though, so the two quickly tugged at Amane’s sleeve and left before they could hold up the line, urging her to carry on with their purchases.

“Wait a minute now. I think one of our Pillars is here as well.”

***

“Come on, Giyuu, walk faster! There's still so much left to buy, and the Estate isn't going to stock up on food by itself! Don't tell me you're tired after just visiting my relatives.” You tug at his hand with a playfulness to match the tease in your tone. The only bag he had allowed you to carry (”If I can do it, I'll do it.”) swung precariously on your arm, but luck always favoured you and nothing dropped out. Maybe some of your luck had rubbed off on him too, because how else could he have scored such a beauty?

He takes a while to reply, but that's only because he's too busy staring at you under the yellow dusk lights. You may not be the most striking figure in the crowd, but Giyuu swears that even if his eyesight were to blur he'd recognise your hair and your kimono anywhere. “The Kakushi will stock up the moment they find out we're back; I already told you we didn't have to go shopping. And to be fair, your sister sulking was more than I could handle.”

“Sulking? Was she?” Your mouth fell open and you glanced back in surprise. “Oh, come on, anyone would have an attitude if they found out their sibling was getting married. She got over it anyway!”

You're still leading him towards a particular stall as you ramble on - Giyuu follows, flashing back to said sister's former judmental behaviour towards him. “Is it so bad to come shopping with me? I wanna spend as much time as possible with you before we have to get back to missions.”

“…not arguing with that logic.” Giyuu squeezes past an old lady and her grandchildren to stand next to you. He takes a good look at the stall's colourful goods, surprised. “When you said you wanted to buy charms, I thought you meant the bracelet kind and not the superstitious kind…?”

“Charms as in good luck ones.” You eagerly examine the omamori laid out immaculately, oohing and aahing over the intricate designs and wishes, occasionally dangling one by its string for a closer look. “Because, y’know, we're getting married and all and…ugh, I sound so silly right now, but…”

Again, Giyuu’s caught himself focusing more on you than the subject being discussed, but who could fault him, when your eyes lit up ever so prettily whenever you found a charm you liked? Forget the sun - your eyes don't ever set. “I've seen you cry over a kitten on the street. Go on.”

Oops, didn't quite come out as comforting as he'd meant it to be…he pretended to fiddle with one of the floral patterned omamori under your withering glare.

“We're just still going on missions before the big day, right? So I thought I'd get a pair for you and me to…well, so neither of us miss it.” You shrug, but Giyuu can still see the dread hidden yet written in your face. “Silly, isn't it? I mean, we battle demons nearly every day and I'm hoping some simple omamori will ward it off.”

If Giyuu was a normal person in love he'd say no, it was not silly, it was very cute of you and of course he felt the same. Giyuu was Giyuu however and therefore thought it was very silly indeed, because an omamori a day can't keep the demons away but nevertheless it was very cute and endearing of you.

“I don't think even Kibutsuji himself could stop me from marrying you.”

“Aw, thanks, Yuu-kun.” You blow him a kiss that leaves him flustered and hold up two omamori. “Look! This one's wave themed, so if you take this one and I take that one it'll match with our Breathing Techniques!”

He better be marrying you soon or Giyuu would be going after the Demon King himself.

You finished up your bargaining with the stall owner and dragged off your fiance off on your merry way to get the last thing on your shopping list before heading home: salmon, because the three things Giyuu could not survive without was water, salmon daikon and you. He happily lets you, glad to have someone take his hand and lead - he'd be emotionally and literally lost without you. You're going on about some new train of thought regarding tomorrow's mission, when he stiffens, stops short and makes you do the same.

“Tomioka-san, how are you? I did not think I'd find you here tonight.”

“…”

“Eh-! Good evening, Ubuyashiki-san! We did not think we'd see you here either.” With a nudge to shake him out of his stunned stupor Giyuu hastily bowed as well.

Amane's face quickly shows recognition, calling out your name in suprise. Like her husband she knew all the Corps members by face, yet you were the last person she'd have guessed to be with the stoic Water Pillar. “What are you two doing anyways? I didn't realize you two were friends.”

“No, she's…my…fiancée…”

Giyuu had rarely seen Amane have anything expressive on her face but “noticeably startled” was the only way to describe it. Even her children were looking blankly uncomprehending. “Why, Tomioka-san, congratulations! Is that why you both took those days off?”

“Yes, we went to go visit my family.” The sun had long dipped into the horizon but you brought it back with your infectious smile. Giyuu tightens his hold around your hand, shyly ducking his head at Amane's chuckle. “We’re hoping to get married soon!”

So many Corps members had died before they could tie the knot, and many Pillars were already considered old for the wedding age…Amane had no doubt Kagaya would be delighted at the news. She offered her warmest look instead. “I'm very happy for you both - I'm sure my husband will of course allow you to take as much time off as you want to have your marriage and honeymoon.”

Your eyes lit up, if they could get any brighter. “It's very much appreciated, Ubuyashiki-san! But it would be a greater honour if you and your family could attend as well…? It's a very small thanks for everything you've done for us, but Giyuu and I would really like you all to be there.”

“Kagaya and I would be more than pleased to be there. Your Kasugai crow can let us know of the details.” Amane glances up at the sky. “I'll have to go now, but I wish you both a happy marriage ahead. See that you don't let go of such a woman, Tomioka-san.”

Giyuu's so easy to fluster. “I'll…try not to, Ubuyashiki-san.”

He promises to never do in his head though. Giyuu could do without the sun and all the fire in the world as long as he had you to light up his life. He should probably tell you that, now that he's thought of it; marriages that last long are the ones that never run out of romance, right?

You're still smiling when he turns to tell you so, but your eye is twitching at the same time. “Hey, Giyuu, did you know that I actually wrote a letter to Ubuyashiki inviting him to come to our wedding some time ago? Did you, by any chance…happen to lose it after I trusted you to deliver it?”

Oops again.

“…no. Maybe. Yes.”

BONUS:

“Did you know that Tomioka and her were already together from the start? You don't seem terribly shocked by what I said.” Amane tilts her head slightly, gaze inquisitive at her serenely smiling husband.

“I did. I didn't realize they were already planning to get married though. We must find a good wedding gift some time.”

Amane sighs half-heartedly. “And you didn't think to mention it because…?”

“Well, it was sort of like watching your own personal drama being performed.”

[sttoru]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER I: you finish your last lecture of the day and head to get dinner before returning to your dormitories. you stumble upon an injured figure on your way home, laying in a dimly lit alley. despite the fear in your heart, you decide to reach out towards the unknown man in need of help.

wc. 3.7k

tags. assassin!toji x female reader. sfw; fluff-ish, angst. reader's best friend oc appearance (yona). mentions of murder, blood, knives, anxiety. general warnings for all parts of the series: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's).

ten seconds. you shut down your laptop and close it. nine seconds. you put your laptop in your tote bag. eight seconds. you close your books and do the same. seven seconds. you put your coat on. six seconds. you check your phone for any messages.

five seconds. you’re thinking about what to eat once you arrive home. four seconds. you decide on a pack of noodles. three seconds. you realise that you’ve ran out of them. two seconds. you make up your mind to go to your local supermarket. one second. you stand up from your seat.

“..that’s all, students. have a nice day and i’ll see you at our next lecture.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips. you’re finally freed from the shackles of your statistics class. not like you’ve paid much attention to what your professor had been yapping about anyway. it was too boring. the daydreaming you did about your potential future boyfriend and all the cheesy romantic stuff you’d do together was all the more important.

“earth to my best friend,” your friend’s voice snaps you back into reality. you look to your side and find yourself apologising for not hearing her the first time. yona chuckles and waves her hand dismissively.

“i asked if you had any plans after the lecture,” she continues whilst scrolling through her phone. you take a peek at her screen and notice that she’s already looking up available restaurants in the area.

you’re grateful that she’s looking out for you in her own way, but you’ve already made up your mind. a pack of your favorite ramen noodles will fill you for tonight. you’re low on cash this month anyway. a fancy restaurant would have you surviving on water for the rest of the week.

“ah, i actually do. gotta go grocery shopping ‘n stuff,” you pout apologetically before buttoning up your coat. yona nods in understanding, knowing the struggles of being a college student.

“aww, all right. we’ll go next time then,” she replies with a smile.

you walk out of the building with your friend by your side, chatting about how boring the lecture was. of course, you also learn all about the recent gossip around campus. yona is practically your plug for that.

“did you hear about that one girl that allowed her boyfriend to stay with her in her dorm room for a whole month and then got snitched on by her roommate?” yona snickers, not caring if anyone around you could hear the gossip.

you raise an eyebrow in surprise. your university has strict rules about guests staying over in the dormitories. they can spend a day or two, but you’d have to sign them in. plus the resident assistants usually check the rooms for any unusual activity every other week.

to hear someone had gotten away for a whole month is quite a surprise.

“he could’ve stayed for longer if it wasn’t for the roommate snitching,” yona continues and rolls her eyes. she takes a quick snack from her bag and bites into it.

you shake your head and shrug, making sure you don’t trip and fall down the stairs whilst you’re talking, “guess the roommate got enough of the random man in their room. i mean—they pay for that room as well. not like the girl is the only one living there.”

yona nods and turns a right. you follow, your eyes scanning the busy hallways. some students are rushing between the crowd to catch their train and others are making their way to their next two hour lecture. those poor souls.

“mhm. i wouldn’t wanna live with a man i don’t know either,” yona eventually adds after swallowing the last bite of her snack, “let alone for a whole month.”

she throws the wrapper in a nearby garbage can—which is overly full already. talk about a ‘hygienic’ school.

“right,” you shiver as the thought gets put into your head. a random man living with you. . . sounds like a nightmare. you’ve heard enough stories about how dirty they can be. in both the physical and mental aspects.

after some walking - and getting annoyed by random people who block your way due to how slow they’re moving - you reach the exit of the building. yona stretches her arms and grabs her phone before turning to you.

“anyway, see you later, hun!” she enthusiastically gives you a hug. you return the affectionate gesture with a gentle smile, rubbing her back. you exchange your last words before both going your own ways.

music plays in your ears as you walk down the street. the wind blows against your face. it’s a cold day. you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to rain in a bit.

‘gotta be fast’, you think. you are not carrying an umbrella with you, so you’d have to hurry back with your groceries. your legs pick up their pace and pass all traffic as fast as they can.

it takes you quite a while to get to your destination. that’s the drawback of living in such a packed city like tokyo. there is no way to move, especially in the evening, when everyone is returning home.

you reach a crosswalk and wait for the light to turn blue. whilst you’re waiting next to a bunch of people, your eyes wander across the scenery. from the huge billboards to your right to the multiple cars to your left.

your gaze stops at one specific billboard. it’s playing some of the latest news. a recent incident had taken place just a few kilometres north from your university. three people had been found cruelly murdered in their apartments.

the definite cause of their deaths is still unknown. there wasn’t any sign of a forced entry, even when reports say that all three victims had been killed in the same way.

they speculate that the person involved must have been quite skilled—someone who’s done this multiple times before. there are absolutely zero traces of them left neither. the only reason they’re able to conclude that it is indeed a homicide, are the similar wounds left on the victims’ bodies.

another comment from the investigation team shows that there might be a survivor who’s escaped the cold blooded killer. that person is now considered missing.

the police are still thoroughly investigating the matter; that’s all you get to know before the news reporter moves on to the next subject.

you look down at your shoes. such scary stuff does make you afraid. you’re living on your own after all. you’d be less scared if you had a roommate, but you currently don’t.

some call you lucky for that since it’s a rare occurrence, yet you still wish you had someone living with you. that would make walking back home at night less stressful.

the increase of footsteps around you makes you realise that the light turned blue—a sign for you to cross the street. you eventually reach the other side. you tilt your head back, anxiously staring at the sky.

‘please don’t, please don’t, please don’t,’ you chant in your head. like the weather is going to listen to your desperate pleas. you rush inside of the supermarket.

you’ve been here often enough to know which products are in what aisle. you scurry over to the ramen, grabbing two packs. you get a few snacks along the way. unhealthy crap, that’s what you’re surviving on.

you stand in line at the cashier. you tap your shoe and bite your lip, your gaze fixated on the sky outside. you beg god to give you just a few more minutes. a few more minutes of drought.

you check your phone and go through your recent notifications to kill time. you swipe left on almost all of them—none being time sensitive or urgent anyway.

you greet the cashier politely once it’s your turn and allow him to scan your products for you. you await for him to announce your total before handing him your debit card. your eyes flicker over to the television hanging right behind the cashier’s head.

that gruesome news again. twice in a row. you shiver and try not to think about it. your mind is already overthinking the entire thing; what if you’re next?

well, that should be the least of your worries. you grab the plastic bag and walk to the exit of the supermarket, taking a deep breath. what you actually should be worried about is getting home dry.

“just my luck,” you mutter under your breath. your prayers are left unanswered as the first few drops of rain fall on your head. you kiss your teeth in annoyance.

you can’t help but silently agree as a couple walks past you, complaining about the sudden change of weather. you watch as a few more people rush past you with their bags above their head.

looking at the bright side of things, you won’t be the only one who’s running home with a bag as a shield against the rain and wind.

you take a deep breath again and mentally prepare yourself for the quick journey you’re going to make. you look to the left and then the right. when the coast is clear, you dash into the direction of your dormitory.

the rain is not letting up. you rush past a few people, those carrying umbrellas walking the slowest of them all. ‘damn them’, you think, ‘they have it the easiest right now.’

you turn a corner and nearly bump into a woman. you politely apologise before continuing your little run home. damp droplets run down your forehead. the rain is already starting to block your vision.

you tightly hug your tote bag to your chest with one arm. the last thing you want is for your laptop to get water damage. you’ve wasted tons of money on that thing to help you get through college.

you look down at the plastic bag with your food. that’ll survive. at least you think it will.

you squint. the rain is only getting worse and thus your blurry vision will as well. you try blinking the water away, but end up making it worse for yourself.

great.

your shoes are going through it. the deep puddles you’ve run through leave the material moist and you can already feel the droplets seep into your socks.

greaaat.

you turn a left. this narrow street is one you hate to be near when it’s dark. it’s a fast shortcut, but also a scary one since it’s isolated from the bustling main streets.

you think back to the cruel news you’ve heard earlier. scary images flash through your mind. your heart races a thousand miles per hour. you once again make up a doom scenario that could possibly happen.

what if the killer on the run is going after you next?

it doesn’t make sense, logically, but everything is possible now that your anxiety has overtaken your rational thoughts. you have no connections to those victims and yet you think you’re next.

you are next.

you whimper out of fear. it feels like the walls of this narrow street are closing up on you the faster you run. you look over your shoulder, excepting someone to be there—following you.

no one is there. you turn your head again and run as fast as you can. if only you had someone with you. someone who’d console you and tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

that’s the worst thing about the entire situation: nobody seems to pass by this backstreet. the only things that could possibly give you any sense of comfort are the random boxes and trash laying around.

time seems to slow down once you see the end of the backstreet. there’d actually be people once you make it through. you gulp and give yourself the motivation to get over there without scaring yourself any further.

the shadows looming over you due to the lack of lightning in this alleyway creep you out. the entire atmosphere is eerie—like something or someone can jump out of those shadows and grab you by the ankles. drag you into the darkness and finish you off there.

you want to return to those vibrant lights you know so bad. you do.

your eyes are so intensely focused on the end of the streets to the point that you forget your surroundings. it’s already too late to realise that you’re tripping over something. you process that you’ve lost your balance when you’re already mid-fall.

your body lands on the wet ground with a loud thud. luckily enough, your hands touched the concrete first, softening the fall for your head. you grunt and groan; it still hurt.

your ears pick up on the sound of running water. your head lays right next to a broken pipe that’s leaking water onto the pavement. cold droplets fall in a rushed rhythm.

“ah, fuck.”

your eyes widen. the sound of a man behind you sends a shiver down your spine. is that why you tripped? did he make you trip?

‘i’m so done,’ you conclude quietly. it’s probably the killer you’ve heard about—the one who’s coming for you next. just like you had thought.

you shut your eyes tightly, awaiting the strike that would finish you. like the wounds that had finished the other victims. though, it never comes. the stabbing doesn’t happen.

the only thing you can pick up on is heavy breathing. low grunts, barely audible. the sound of cloth ripping. a man mumbling under his breath.

you sit up on your knees and look over your shoulder. slowly, little by little.

the revealed sight is like a dream. or a nightmare. you don’t know which it is. perhaps a mixture of both.

all you know is that this is the last thing you expected to see. the last thing you expected to experience today. you feel your heart drop and you freeze in place.

you’ve seen your own fair share of blood, but this is simply too much. it’s like time has stopped for you. like time has stopped inside of this backstreet.

the world outside of this alleyway continues moving. the people keep walking, chatting and living their lives. the rain keeps falling. as if nothing is occurring at the moment.

as if there is no bloodied man on the dirty ground, leaning against the wall, with crimson stained hands clutching his abdomen. his wet bangs cover his eyes which makes his identity even more mysterious.

you probably tripped over his leg that’s stretched out in front of him; also bloody. you feel bad for not noticing him earlier. your own selfish desires to get out of this alley caused you to overlook a person in need of urgent aid.

you don’t think twice before reaching out towards him. it’s like your body moves on its own command—not waiting for your brain to figure out what to do.

“oh my god,” you’re shaking badly, but your body crawls closer to the injured figure. you don’t think twice. something you have always taught yourself to do before diving into unfamiliar situations.

not right now, however. you don’t hesitate to check up on the stranger. if you didn’t see his chest moving with each shaky breath, you’d have concluded that he’s dead.

“s-sir?” you panic. what do you do? you’ve never landed in such a predicament before. you look to your left and then to your right. no one to help you nor the bloodied man.

he doesn’t reply to your voice. that further worsens your anxiety. your eyes wander down towards the man’s abdomen. the wound was deep and painful, that much you can tell from the way he’s holding tightly onto it.

a bullet wound? you’re not sure.

right—the piece of cloth he’s keeping against the wound. that’s what you do to try and stop the bleeding. the warm red liquid stains the man’s baggy pants. his black shirt is nearly ripped to shreds, the material hanging on by a thread. literally.

“uhm, uh,” you look around and spot your bag on the floor. in a puddle. you pray that your laptop has made it. you don’t recall having anything with you that could help treat wounds.

you gulp and hastily take off your scarf. you carefully kneel in front of the half-conscious man. his head is held low. you don’t know if he can even hear you.

you reach your hand out towards him, aiming for his own bloody hands that hold onto his abdomen. you cringe due to the sight, but try your best to be of assistance.

the man hisses the moment you touch the his hand. your fingers stop mid-air, not wanting to touch him if he didn’t want to.

what am i thinking?

now is not the time for that. he’s bleeding out and you have this urge to get him to safety as soon as possible. even if you’re internally panicking because of the huge responsibility that fate has suddenly assigned you.

“i’ll call an ambulance. please hold on,” you try to be reassuring, however your choked up voice betrays your true feelings. you change the old cloth with your scarf, pressing it tightly against his injury.

you fish out your phone from your pocket using your other hand. the rain makes it hard to do anything. your screen is wet, your vision blurry. you type in the first number of the emergency services.

suddenly, a bigger hand swats yours, causing your phone to go flying to the other side of the street. you watch with wide eyes as your cellphone comes to a stop right next to a big puddle of rain.

you whip your head to the direction of the injured figure in front of you. the man tries to lifts his head, slowly, so he could look you in the eye. your heart stammers in your chest.

“sir, you’re bleeding out, you need to—“

“i don’t need anythin’.”

you don’t dare to move nor let out a single breath. you can feel the tip of a sharp blade rest under your chin—nearly penetrating the flesh. one wrong move and you will lose your life.

the man had moved too fast for you to even process. you don’t know how you even ended like this. with a bloody knife to your throat and an unknown man’s face right up against yours.

“leave,” the stranger demands. you know he’s not to be messed with, even in his weakened state, “i don’t need y’r help.”

his voice sounds rough. deep and raspy. it shakes you to your core—makes you listen to what he has to say. it’s hypnotising. a gust of wind blows over the both of you.

his bangs move and your gaze finally meets his. the background noises fade for a split second. your entire focus is on those beautiful emerald orbs staring into your own eyes. they’re gorgeous.

they're gorgeous; even if they lack that sparkle of life. his eyes tell stories—the rough journeys this man probably had to endure throughout the years. you’ve never seen such a sight. it tugs at your heartstring and urges you to help him.

you don’t know where these feelings came from, but amidst your anxiety, there’s an underlying desire to take care of him.

you shake your head, showing your unexpected defiance. you’re playing with fire. you know that all too well and yet you don’t care.

“no. i won’t leave,” your breath hitches. you notice the dangerous glint in the man’s eyes. he looks like he’s going to lose consciousness any second now. though his grip on the knife tells another story, “i won’t leave you alone. not like this.”

the injured stranger grunts in annoyance, but also in pain. your persistence makes him want to shove you to the side. to leave this place already and find a way out on his own. he doesn’t want your help.

he may actually need it, but he does not want to accept it.

despite those thoughts, he’s too weak. way too weak. he doesn’t like being weak. feeling weak is not his thing. vulnerability doesn’t suit him.

“you have a fuckin’ death wish,” the man scoffs. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto consciousness, but that is the last thing he cares about. he wants you gone. out of sight.

you stay in place. even through his chilling death threats. you can feel the blade start to invade the first layer of your skin. it hurts already. normally, you would’ve run. you want to. your mind tells you to get the hell out, but your heart and body yells at you to stay.

“i’ll give ya three seconds,” the stranger continues. he’s close. so close that you can feel his hot breath against your freezing cheeks. it’s intimidating, however not enough to scare you away.

the tighter your grip on the scarf against his abdomen, the tighter his grip on the handle of the knife. time will tell who’ll win this battle.

“three.”

the countdown starts. you swallow your own spit. the rain has you completely drenched. you catch a glimpse of the puddle underneath you both. the colour of it a light red as the man’s blood flows and mixes with the clear water.

“two.”

his voice is quieter than before. he’s losing his strength, but is stubborn enough to firmly keep the knife below your chin. you’re sure that your own blood is already trickling down the shiny metal.

the man’s lips part to announce the last number. your last chance. your final opportunity to escape and act like you have never seen him. you can go back to your normal life—continue living in your own world. the one you are familiar with.

one without this unknown man. this man with an aura of a cold hearted killer.

you fingers curl tightly against the scarf pressed against his wound. you refuse to let up. even if it means your own death. your eyes close—cold damp droplets roll down your cheeks. you don’t know if they’re your tears or if it’s just the pouring rain.

you hear a low, frustrated groan. he sounds so close yet so far from you. you can feel the man’s arm move to adjust his grip. probably to try and flawlessly puncture your jaw.

if only you accepted to eat out with your friend. if only you turned around and went back to your dorm the moment you knew it was going to rain. if only you didn’t take this shortcut today.

if only your fates hadn’t clashed.

“one.”

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

[yok00k]

LOVE.

pairing: pinkcoquette/Sanriolover!oc x bf!jk

genre: fluff, smut

“Sippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely”

Synopsis: you wanted to try the “pink coquette core” on your boyfriend and your poor sleepy dog

warnings: brief SMUT at the end, oc is desperate, clingy, and be waking everyone up @ midnight in the name of coquette core💀, too much love in the air, mention of jk only in his sweatpants, dirty thoughts, (pink bow should have its own warning too imo)

Author’s note: this is my very first work/drabble ^o^ I was mainly inspired by these outta pocket ‘coquette core’ videos on tiktok and it made me think about my man jungkook and my son bam (this is unedited & will probably stay that way, I just write for my own sanity)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

Pleaseeee my kookie? I promise it will be quick” I desperately pleaded to him as I straddled him on the couch. I showered his entire head with plenty of my sweet kisses, trying to convince him to do a foolish video that’s quite trending today. The only response I got are his arms snaking around my lower waist while he continues to watch his tv show, Bloodhound.

Early this morning, I was scrolling on my ‘for you’ page and saw a bunch of pretty and pleasing coquette videos. Essentially, pink bows were wrapped around the daintiest [and most random] stuffs including ramen cup noodles, lip oil, or even a rose toy. Do I get the pattern of the coquette trend? Absolutely not. But one certain thing I’m sure of is that I will wrap a tiny baby pink bow around my boyfriend. And it will happen no matter what it takes.

Since offering him with plenty of affection doesn’t seem to work, I had to go down with my last technique. “I will grant you three wishes if you let me do it” I whispered softly to his ear. Immediately, he grabbed the remote to pause the show that he was so focused on .

“Anything?” Jungkook eagerly asked, two round, shining dark eyes gaze upon me as they search for assurance in my words. “Anything” I guarantee, kissing his pretty nose before getting off his lap.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

“koo stay still” I complained while giggling at the sight of him attempting to awkwardly stand still with a flimsy ribbon flimsy bow that looped around his torso and veiny arms.

‘How cute’ I thought.

While trying to capture videos and a couple of photos of him, I can’t help but to flash a grin. Small things like this really make my heart so full. Spending a solid quality time with him, even if it’s doing something nonsense is a memory I will forever value.

“So cute” I mumbled, staring at my phone as I went through the images I took seconds ago.

After a minute or two, Jungkook, who’s still standing, took a loud, deep breath.

“baby are we done yet?” he whined. “Oh my bad kookie” I rushed to turn off my phone to finally give my undivided attention to him. The ribbon tied around him got unfasten by me. Finally, he can breathe freely again.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

It was midnight when out of nowhere, another light bulb popped out of my brain on what (or who) to use the notorious pink decoration for. And in this case, I won’t be able to sleep unless I accomplish the sudden idea. Somehow, I managed to escape from Jungkook’s arms securely holding onto my waist. I quickly grab two pink short strips and head to the living room. The entire apartment was filled by silence and darkness therefore I turned the mini lampshade in the corner, causing Bam to wake up and immediately have his guards up. When he recognized that it was just me, he put his head down on the floor while holding a gaze on me as if he’s questioning ‘why is she bothering me at this hour?’

“I’m sorry for waking you up this hour bammie, mama just needs to do something real quick ok?” I gently explained to the Doberman. It didn’t take me so much time to delicately tie a not-so-tight bow around his both ears. What took time was taking good pictures of him for the reasons that he’s moving too much and doesn't know what on earth is going on.

“Look at mami bam” I whispered, snapping my fingers to get his attention to look in the camera. The poor dog keeps moving his head, figuring out the thing around his ears are for.

“Baby what are you doing?” an abrupt voice spoke behind me.

Shit. Turning my body around, I got a glance at the half lidded eyes filled with pure curiosity. As I examined his tall and muscular physique, I also didn’t fail to notice that he was only wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants. And when I say only, I meant only so don’t ask me for any color of something.

The things that my mind urges me to do.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

I dropped my knees in front of him, left hand wrapped in his upper leg while the other hand softly palmed his growing tent. I looked into his eyes as I gave his clothed cock few pecks, teasing him. Instantly he gave me a nod before throwing his head back, gesturing to me to keep on going.

I wasted no time and pulled down his sweatpants till an angry, hard cock that slapped his bottom abdomen was released from being suffocated. It’s too pretty, so desperate to be touched. Using my small grip, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, directing it right to my drooling mouth. I gifted his pink mushroom tip kitty licks, then proceeded to gradually bob my head up and down greedily to his cock as if he’s my last meal.

“mmh.. so good baby” jungkook shamelessly groans, the cold room is filled with nothing but dirty, loud moans. The noises motivated me to go on and also to do the best I can to make him feel good.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

“___, you still with me?” he asked again, bringing me out in reality from the filthy thoughts that've been going around the back of my head.

“yeah.. I was just trying the ribbon on Bam” I responded breathlessly as my gaze returned to his beautiful eyes. I just smiled, as if I wasn’t imagining an obscene scene with him a few seconds ago. “let’s go to sleep” I announced as I got up from the ground.

and before we sleep, I made sure to turn my little cute scenario into reality.