#he is unapologetically crazy

[emsleyanbluejay]

it’s depressing how often the response to having a disabled OC is still “I want disabled characters, but not like that” when you pretty much literally put your own illnesses onto the OC in question

[cakemoney]

that's our vibe tonight folks

[essenceofarda]

Once i had a fic idea (that I still wanna get back to writing one day) that was the REVERSE* of the "Girl falls into middle Earth" trope, so instead it was "Prince Eldarion of Gondor falls into modern day Earth", and lives for a very confused time in modern day America, where he falls in love with a modern-day woman who he ends up taking back with him to Middle Earth when he Does manage to return, and so the fic would cover two timelines so to speak, or more...

take dual place in both like,,, modern day Earth where he's grappling with the craziness that is technology and modern day... everything, and then also in Middle Earth where she is grappling with "holy shit he was telling the TRUTH about where he came from????????" etc and it was... yeah sure, ridiculous, cliche, and probably something no one would be interested in reading, LOL, but it would satisfy that itch of mine to write a SUPER Self-Indulgent lotr fic 🤣🤔

[llycaons]

the double and cql both heavily involve reputation, and in the double specifically plot events lean on manipulating the opinions of large groups of people. in cql it's played for everything from comedy to tragedy as wwx is turned on by the masses and his reputation is torn to shreds, and ultimately discarded as irrelevant, or at least less important than the moral standards and personal loyalty/love the characters strive to hold themselves to, in the end as lwj throws away the shining reputation he'd cultivated in favor of standing up for wwx and doing what really matters to him, and as wwx realizes how fickle and self-serving the greater cultivation world really is as it pivots its scapegoating from himself to jgy as soon as jgy's crimes come to light. like, reputation matters in that its a form of protection, but wwx (and later lwj) reject that protection because their moral compasses and loyalty to each other and their ideals demand unorthodox but righteous action that alienate them from conventional cultivation society. wwx walked his single plank bridge into the dark and he did it alone and he did it knowing the rest of the world hated him for it and probably would forever. but he had no other way forward. its just that eventually, he didn't have to be alone anymore

[simplegenius042]

DOTM Sentinel: “What you must realise my Autobot brothers, is that we were never going to win the war. For the sake of our planet’s survival, a deal had to be made… with Megatron!”

TFA sentinel: SQUEEEE OMG IM FINALLY A PRIME and I hate that stupid scrapheap Optimus

TFONE sentinel: okay airachnid now hit the second tower

[lowkeyren]

in which : alhaitham speaks to you in 5 different languages, unaware that you understand every word he says.

wc 7.3k (pls give it a chance lol), academic rivals to lovers, unrequited hate, attempt at humor, college au, denial + pinning.. crazy ik, he falls first (and harder), tw stalking by a drunkard, a genius on paper but a total dumbass when it comes to crushes, lil smau at the end!, ft. sumeru gang. art by @/gamegatchihaja on x.

ps. translations ay nasa maliliit na titik, katulad neto!!

ps. translations will be in small letters, like this!!

PROLOGUE: GOD I HATE THIS GUY! (DOES HE THINK IM STUPID?)

the semester is nearing its conclusion, and the imminent approach of finals marks the most critical period of the year; students rush through the halls, clutching their notes and textbooks like lifelines, while you pour every ounce of effort into your studies —not just for your grades, but also to surpass a certain arrogant scholar. 

alhaitham. 

the name tastes like spoiled milk on your tongue, a sour reminder of all the times he’s bested you, even if it’s just by a small margin, leaving you dumbfounded when the difference between your marks during the last exam was a mere 1%. 

you were groveling in front of your professor, “please, just round the marks up?” you could practically feel your dignity slipping away. and the worst part? you were so desperate that you started mentally calculating how many odd jobs you’d be willing to do just to sweeten the deal. 

(maybe you’ll help organize the office, run around the campus to buy him drinks every day, or even wipe down the windows of his car…)

disclaimer: he ultimately said no, but he did compliment your impeccable taste in coffee so, a win is a win? 

anyhow, alhaitham’s nonchalance only adds to your frustration, especially when he switches to a different language mid-conversation. it feels like he’s rubbing salt in your wounds, why of course you can understand him perfectly —after all, you aren’t majoring in linguistics for no reason, plus he's not the only one who’s fluent in multiple languages.

though you keep that to yourself, perhaps because the things he says in those languages, which he assumes you don’t understand, are far from innocent, unknowingly letting you have a glimpse into his true feelings. 

ACT I: WHOLEHEARTEDLY, I DETEST YOU. 

alhaitham would never fall in love —such irrational and illogical emotions held no value to him. 

that was what he always believed, but then he saw you. 

the way you laughed so unapologetically at cyno’s jokes, how you always stood firm by your beliefs, your refusal to compromise who you are; you were a breath of fresh air in a world that often felt stifling.

as much as he tries to act unfazed, he can't help the heat prickling his skin nor the way his composure falters just slightly in your presence. and when his heart raced for the first time in what felt like forever, he knew —he was completely, utterly screwed.

(“fix me, kaveh.” / “hah. who do you think i am, ‘y/n’?”)

when kaveh told him that he just had a simple “crush”, he nearly rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck there permanently.)

likewise, this ugly arrogant handsome bastard here, is one you’ll never fall in love with. 

he’s infuriating, completely insufferable, and yet there’s something about him, something hidden beneath that arrogance, that draws you in. the idea that you could ever fall for someone like him seems laughable, impossible even. he's exactly the kind of person you should avoid and you know better than to be charmed by someone like him. yet, there's that nagging feeling, deep down, that perhaps you’re not as immune to him as you think.

by some stroke of luck, you’re in the same major, same year, and even enrolled in the same lecture periods, which means you end up in the same place at the same time more often than not.

but you can’t deny that, in some twisted way, you admire him. his intellect is beyond impressive, even if it annoys you to admit it. so surely, in his eyes, you’re still inferior, and you often wonder if he even considers your ideas as worthy of attention.

(they are.)

ACT II: YOUR WATCHFUL EYES, I CAN’T IGNORE.

your pen glides across the pages as you jot down notes, fully absorbed in your studies, barely registering the faint sound of distant chatter.

unbeknownst to you, a group of students has gathered just outside the lecture hall, peeking in from the door with curious, amused expressions. they’re clearly there for you, exchanging glances and murmurs, waiting for the moment you step outside.

you don’t notice, but alhaitham, seated a few feet away, certainly does.

his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the scene. he doesn’t say anything at first, but his jaw clenches ever so subtly. as you begin to pack up, you glance up to find him standing in front of you, his tall figure effectively blocking the group outside’s direct line of sight to you.

with a discreet glance over his shoulder, he shoots them a cold, unmistakable glare. they visibly shudder, seemingly getting the message as they awkwardly shuffle away. 

“what was that about?”

alhaitham leans against your desk, “nothing important,” his tone is dismissive, laced with irritation, his gaze still fixed on the now-empty doorway. 

you narrow your eyes, unimpressed. “really? you just scared them off for no reason?”

“just getting rid of some… distractions,” he says casually, turning his attention back towards you. you raise an eyebrow, clearly not believing his words. “distractions? they weren’t bothering me.” 

his expression remains impassive, “khi họ cứ để ý đến em như vậy… em thấy không phiền, còn tôi thì có.”

“seeing them constantly paying attention to you… you're not bothered by it, but i am.”

“bởi vì cái cách mà em chú tâm hoàn toàn vào một việc gì đó…  nó quyến rũ vô cùng.”

because the way you completely focus on something… is truly mesmerising.

you blink, feeling a momentary flush of confusion and surprise at the words slipping from his mouth. did he just—? but before you can fully process it, he continues.

“vậy nên tôi cũng không thể trách họ khi họ muốn nhìn em gần và lâu hơn được.”

so i don’t blame them when they want to look at you closer and longer.

his words linger in the air, a moment passes before it clicks —he doesn’t think you understand. that’s why he’s speaking so… freely; letting slip things he’d never say outright in a language you both speak fluently.

“nhưng mà… chắc không ai trong số bọn họ có thể sánh ngang với tôi, em nhỉ?”

but… none of them can compare to me, right?

your chest tightens as a surge of warmth courses through you. 

his detached attitude only fuels your irritation. but there’s also a certain satisfaction in knowing something he doesn’t: you’ve understood every single word he’s said.

feigning ignorance, you raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with what you hope is a neutral expression. "what are you going on about?" you ask.

his expression remains as stoic as ever, not a single crack in his mask. he simply shrugs, eyes still on you, "just telling you to focus more.”

your grip on the pen tightens, there's a part of you that wants to wipe that smug look off his face, to show him you're not as clueless as he assumes. but not yet —you’re curious to see just how far he’s willing to push.

"right," you mutter under your breath, tapping the pen against your notebook. "focus. got it."

he leans down slightly, one arm resting on the back of your chair while the other presses against the table, effectively caging you in.

"you're wasting time, finals are coming up." he takes a brief pause before continuing, "i wish you the best of luck, you’ll need it.”

your eyes snap up to him in a glare, “don’t you have somewhere to be?" you bite back.

alhaitham straightens, giving you a final glance before turning towards the door. “naturally, i have studying to do.”

“bởi vì tôi sẽ chứng minh cho em thấy rằng chỉ có tôi mới xứng tầm làm đối thủ học thuật của em, không một ai khác.”

because i will prove to you that only i am worthy of being your rival, no one else.

why did he frame it as if it’s a privilege only he can claim? or is he trying to… flatter you?!

you shake your head, no way, that’s ridiculous. finals are coming up, there’s no time to dwell on whatever mind games he’s playing. though if the almighty alhaitham wants a rival, then you’ll show him exactly what it means to stand at the pinnacle.

ACT III: IN MY DREAMS, I SCORED HIGHER THAN YOU.

you’re tired, the kind of tired that seeps deep into your bones. every blink stretches longer than the last and you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the words in front of you. stifling a yawn, you feel the pull of sleep tugging at you, whispering sweet promises of rest.

there’s still time till your next class.

maybe you'll take a moment to close your eyes, just for a few seconds…

did you not get enough sleep last night, or did you stay up late studying again? alhaitham watches silently from across the room, his eyes narrowing as your head droops lower, your exhaustion becoming painfully obvious with each passing second. his gaze lingers on the way your pen pauses mid-sentence, the line on your notebook trailing off as your hand grows heavy.

he pushes himself up from his seat, and approaches your desk; he notices the sunlight streaming through the window, harsh and unrelenting, hitting right over the table where you’re sitting. he looks at you —eyes closed, with the faintest crease of discomfort on your brow.

without a word, he reaches out and slips the pen from your grip, the slight shift causing your fingers to twitch, but you don’t wake. 

for a fleeting second, he considers waking you. but then, as you shift again, settling more comfortably into your chair, he decides against it. what good would that do, anyway? you’d probably just brush him off and keep going until you collapse from sheer fatigue. typical.

instead, he adjusts his stance slightly, positioning himself just right to make sure the sunlight is fully blocked from your face, casting you in a cool shadow. 

you mumble something incoherent, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your state. did you really think burning yourself out like this would help you focus?

“stubborn,” he mutters under his breath. 

you're always like this, pushing yourself past your limits, and while part of him respects your determination to outdo him, he won’t allow it to come at the expense of your health.

you stir from your slumber, lifting your head, your gaze lands on a familiar figure standing to the side of your table. his back turned, facing the sunlight that streams in from the window. 

alhaitham. 

he’s close, so close that his broad shoulders completely block out the sunlight from the window. the sight sends a rush of confusion through your already sleep-addled mind. did he… stand there the whole time? why? 

you shift slightly in your seat, your movement catching his attention. without turning, he speaks in that low, steady tone of his, “you’re awake.”

“alhaitham?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

he glances over his shoulder, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the calm expression on his face. “you’ve been out for a while,” he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice. “i was starting to think you’d sleep through your next class.”

you rub the sleep from your eyes, “why didn’t you wake me up then?”

his shoulders shift slightly as he shrugs, still facing away from you. “you looked like you needed the rest. besides, it’s more entertaining to see how long you’d stay asleep.”

a flicker of annoyance courses through you as you roll your eyes, “oh, so you mean you care?”

he turns slightly, and you can see a hint of a smirk on his lips. “don’t read too much into it. i just prefer my competition functioning at their best.”

you wish you could roll your eyes harder because this man has an uncanny talent for grating on your nerves while somehow being insufferably charming at the same time.

“ah yes —because you need me to keep up with you,” you remark sarcastically.

“exactly.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you lean back in your chair. “you really think so highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“mushiro, kimi no koto o hijō ni takaku hyōka shiteiru yo.”

if anything, i think highly of you. 

your brows knit together in surprise, and you can’t help but scoff. “what was that? i didn't catch it.”

“i said i won’t go easy on you.” oh, the audacity. he’s lying again, and he knows it.

the corners of your mouth twitch in disbelief as you scrutinise his expression. there’s that familiar glimmer in his eyes, a spark of mischief that tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

“whatever,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “not like i want you to anyway.”

despite your words, you can't deny that his actions earlier were surprisingly endearing. you wonder how long he intends to keep this up. perhaps it’s time you let him know.

“ii ne, kimi ga iraira shite iru toki wa kawaiikara.”

good, because you’re cute when you’re all riled up.

you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at his words, okay maybe you shouldn’t let him know. you instinctively look away, as if avoiding his gaze can help you regain your composure.

cute? what does he mean “cute”?! he thinks he can get away with calling you cute —well… well, there’s not much you can do about it, you’re not ready to confront him about this either.

the mere thought of asking him directly makes your stomach twist with a year’s worth of embarrassment. yet, as you try to refocus on the book in front of you, you find yourself biting your lip, struggling to suppress a smile that threatens to break free.

ACT IV: I WOKE UP TODAY, AND A DREAM CAME TRUE.

the hallway buzzes with excitement as students gather around the large announcement board, eager to see the results of their theses. you push through the crowd, heart pounding, the low hum of chatter filling your ears. 

when you reach the front, you quickly scan the list; the moment your eyes land on your name, your breath catches in your throat.

there it is, in bold red ink at the top of the board —a score higher than you’d ever hoped for, higher than his. and your name, on top of his.

alhaitham.

you glance over and spot him approaching the board, approaching you. his expression is, as always, unreadable. but you know him well enough by now to catch the slight pause in his movements, the brief moment where his eyes linger just a second too long on the board.

you try not to think too much about it as you collect your thesis, with alhaitham following closely behind, his fingers nearly grazing yours as you both sift through the stack of papers on the table.

you take in the glowing praise from your professor, each word making you feel like every all-nighter was worth it. you clutch the paper, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. 

glancing sideways, you wait for him to say something, maybe some backhanded comment, but he remains silent. your eyes meet, and there’s a shift in his gaze as the usual sharpness in his eyes dulls ever so slightly, your smile lingering like the first light of dawn breaking through the night's embrace.

it’s subtle —just a flicker —but you catch how his gaze falters, softening, if only for a heartbeat. the edges of his stare blur, drawn to the warmth of your expression as though it’s something he hadn’t meant to witness, yet can’t look away from. 

at this moment,

"looks like i finally beat you," you say, not bothering to suppress the grin spreading across your face now.

he feels like

there’s no scowl, no sign of frustration —just the slightest raise of an eyebrow. “hmm. by a point.” he pauses, studying you for a second longer than necessary before returning his gaze to his paper. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

he's in heaven.

it’s as if he’s not bothered by the outcome at all. in fact, if anything, he seems... satisfied?

"hindi dapat ganito kalala ang epekto ng ngiti mo sa akin."

your smile shouldn't affect me this badly.

“—huh?” your mouth drops slightly open at his words; out of everything, you didn’t expect him to say that. it catches you off guard, making your heart race just a little faster. if you peer closely enough, you might catch a glimpse of the gentle arch of his lips, a ghost of a smile. 

the silence stretches on for a beat too long before he clears his throat and shifts his gaze away from you. “ang iyong ngiti ang pinakamagandang tanawin ng aking araw.”

your smile is the most beautiful sight of my day.

“what?” the word slips from your lips, barely a breath, a soft gasp that hangs in the air. it feels almost surreal and you wonder if you’ve misheard him.

each heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythm that matches the erratic flutter in your chest. why is he saying these things, what for in a different language…? there’s no way that he—

"—tulad mo na ang hinangad ko na ligawan, ngunit sa bawat ngiti mo, halip ay mas lalo akong nahulog para sayo."

—like you, who i wish to court, but with every smile, i instead found myself falling for you. 

your breath hitches as your heart stumbles, the implications of his words washing over you like a wave. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, “what… did you say?”

his shoulders stiffen, and there’s a subtle tension in the way his fingers curl against the paper he’s holding. “see you tomorrow, [name],” he mutters, his voice low but hurried, and before you know it, he’s already walking away.

two strange things happened today: 

1. you finally beat your sworn enemy!

2. said enemy… complimented you? 

huh, it’s as if the words slipped out before he could catch them, as if he’s been holding them in for far too long, as if… you notice the way his neck reddens, even as he turns away.

behind the door, alhaitham lets out a quiet breath.

“gago… nagkamali ba ako?”

stupid… did i make a mistake?

to his dismay, an annoyingly familiar voice cuts through the silence. kaveh, who had been waiting just down the hall, notices him standing there, a little too still. 

“oh, what do we have here?" there's a slight pause, followed by a raised eyebrow. "is that—no way, your face is red!” kaveh teases, amusement dancing in his eyes. “what happened there?" he leans in, clearly enjoying himself. "come on, spill the tea..!” 

"not a chance," alhaitham retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively.

just then, kaveh spots cyno and tighnari; grinning, he waves them over. “what’s going on? did alhaitham finally crack under pressure?”

alhaitham would rather reorganise the entire library than listen to kaveh recount what happened.

“i’m leaving.” 

"no, i'm afraid you're not getting out of this one.” cyno steps forward, blocking alhaitham’s path; and tighnari, who has been quietly observing till now, chimes in, “don’t leave us hanging.”

“you’re outnumbered.” 

alhaitham sighs and shakes his head. he hadn’t even thought it was physically possible for him, of all people, to do something as ridiculous as blushing —until today.

(on the other side of the door, their banter echoes through, and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at alhaitham’s misery.)

ACT V: PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY, YOU SAY? BUT EVERYONE CALLS IT FLIRTING.

“i think alhaitham likes [name].”

the whole table falls silent before kaveh dramatically slams his glass down on the table, causing a splash of alcohol to spill over the edge. “oh finally, it’s so obvious! have you all seen the way he looks at them?” 

across the table, tighnari taps his fingers absentmindedly on his notebook, his attention only half on kaveh’s (incoming) rant but clearly invested enough, as shown by the slight twitching of his ears, to be listening. 

cyno snickers, “you’re telling me the man who can dissect any philosophical argument can’t handle a little crush? that’s rich.”

kaveh waves a hand dismissively. “come on! remember that time they were partnered up for a project? he was so... uncharacteristically patient! i’d almost say it’s cute if it weren’t alhaitham we’re talking about!”

right, it’d be almost endearing —if it weren’t coming from the most stoic, intimidatingly aloof guy in the entire school. it’d be adorable —if it weren’t alhaitham, who instinctively covers the corner of your table with his hand when you drop your pencil, ensuring you won’t hit your head as you bend down to retrieve it.

oh, you don’t notice (of course not). but your friend dehya, sitting nearby, catches the whole scene out of the corner of her eye. she raises an eyebrow, nudging the girl beside her. 

(“candace, do you see that shit.” / “yeah.”)

“a soft spot for [name], you say? well, i’ve got a story of my own, too.” cyno glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot, then lowers his voice conspiratorially.  “have you noticed? he doesn’t wear his earphones when he’s around them.”

kaveh pipes up, nodding eagerly.

“he’s got those earphones practically glued to his head, he doesn’t hear anything he doesn’t want to, and he certainly doesn’t talk unless he’s forced to. but around them?” cyno pauses, pretending to think for a while. “not once. he’ll put them away entirely, like he’s actually willing to be… present.”

sure it’s small, subtle, the kind of habit no one would pick up on unless they were looking closely. but to anyone who knew alhaitham well, it tells them more than words ever could. 

for him, actions speak louder than words, even if he often doesn’t realise the meaning behind his own gestures.

his earphones slide down, resting forgotten around his neck, all so he can be close enough to catch the delightful lilt of your laughter. his chair inches a fraction closer, seemingly by accident. a subtle upward twitch at the corner of his mouth, so fleeting and often passing so quickly if one weren’t paying attention.

for him, it’s a language without words.

dehya laughs softly. "for someone who supposedly ‘doesn’t like being bothered,’ he sure seems invested in whatever [name] has to say."

and what sealed their suspicions? 

definitely the time when kaveh complimented nilou’s new bracelet. he glanced over at the man beside him, nudging him lightly. “what do you think?”

alhaitham gave the bracelet a cursory glance, before replying, “it’s nice.” though his gaze flickered back; and almost absently, he added after a pause, “[name] has the same one too.”

oh… oh? well that was oddly specific. kaveh’s eyebrow quirked as he fought to suppress a grin.

alhaitham had noticed a detail seemingly insignificant about [name] —the kind of thing he never cared to show the slightest interest in when it came to anyone else.

the glint in nilou’s eyes seemed to mirror kaveh’s unspoken thoughts, silently agreeing with his suspicions.  

now they’re certain —100% sure, in fact —that alhaitham has a crush on you.

“well, speak of the devil… lovely seeing you here, alhaitham,” kaveh quips. tighnari, ever observant, gives him a pointed look. “your jacket’s missing.”

“someone took it,” alhaitham replies, his tone as composed as always, giving nothing away.

—nothing until you walked past. draped over your shoulders, unmistakable, is alhaitham’s jacket. you don’t notice the way every pair of eyes follows you, or the way kaveh barely stifles a triumphant laugh.

...make that 110%.

(translation: he means he borrowed his jacket because [name] was cold.)

ACT VI: IT’S YOU, WHO COMES TO MY RESCUE. 

the quiet night hangs heavy, the road empty and bathed in the dim glow of distant streetlights. you weave through the streets, but no matter how many twists and turns you take, that weirdo just won’t leave you alone.  

he’s been trailing behind you for blocks now, his persistence grating on your nerves, cornering you with endless “compliments” and invasive questions. you’ve tried to shake him off, but his determination far exceeds your patience.

"come on, just give me a chance," he insists, stepping closer, a little too close for comfort. you take a step back. the smell of alcohol reeks from his breath, and his grin is making your skin crawl. 

"i told you, i’m not interested," you say firmly, keeping your voice steady, but the panic was starting to creep in. you glance at the empty bottle in his hand —he’s definitely drunk out his mind.

“you sure?" he completely ignores your clear discomfort. "how about you just give me your number, yeah?" he slurs out.

"no, i have a boyfriend." you lie through your teeth, hoping that would be enough to make him back off.

unfortunately, he’s as insufferable as he is persistent.

he snorts dismissively, "yeah, right. a boyfriend? you’re just playing hard to get."

you sigh, you aren’t in the mood for this, not here, not now, and especially not with someone like him. "i already told you, i have a boyfriend," your voice now tinged with frustration. "so please, just leave me alone.”

"oh, don't be like that," he steps in front of you, blocking your way. "prove it. call your boyfriend. show me you’re not lying."

your heart races as the man reaches out for you, dodging his hand, you take the chance to look behind him for an escape. just then, you see an all-too-familiar figure in the distance. 

alhaitham. 

you barely manage to suppress a relieved sigh as you wave frantically in his direction. he spots you almost immediately and without hesitation, he rushes over.

"what, this your boyfriend?" the guy sneers with derision, still sounding a little too cocky for someone who was about to get a reality check.

alhaitham steps beside you, you can feel his eyes on you for just a brief moment, the faintest flicker of worry flashing across his face. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you catch it—and it makes your chest tighten.

his voice is low, unmistakably carrying a warning, "yes, i’m their boyfriend. and if you don’t want things to escalate, i suggest you leave." 

the man’s face twists as anger flares in his bloodshot eyes. he takes a step forward, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, the glass slightly cracking. "you think you can tell me what to do?" he slurs, gaze wild and unfocused. “y-you think you’re some kind of saviour? *hic* a-and you! how… how dare you reject me?!”

alhaitham doesn’t move, his expression cold and unbothered, and that only seems to make the man angrier. his frustration boils over, and with a snarl, he clumsily swings the bottle in his hand, aggressively lurching towards your direction. 

the world seems to slow for a moment. though before you can even react, alhaitham pulls you firmly behind him with one swift motion, his other arm instinctively rising to shield the both of you from the blow. the sound of glass meeting his forearm is sharp and jarring —you can hear the high-pitched tinkle of glass scattering, the jagged shards bouncing off the pavement, and some skittering across the ground.

but he doesn’t even flinch, his stance unwavering as the man stumbles back, glass crunching underfoot. you’re still frozen from shock, your heart racing in your chest as you watch the scene unfold. 

“big mistake,” he starts, and the man visibly falters. “harassment, assault —keep this up, and you’ll regret every choice that brought you here tonight.”

the man shifts around, clearly disoriented. his eyes dart between you and alhaitham, but it’s clear that the fight’s already left him. “you— you can’t do this!” the man stammers, trying to regain some semblance of courage; unfortunately for him, the tremor in his voice is unmistakable. 

“do you really want to find out?” alhaitham asks, to which the man shakes his head vigorously. “get lost,” he mutters. the man, looking more pathetic than threatening now, quickly stumbles away, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

you’re breathless, still clutching the edge of his jacket, fingers trembling slightly as the adrenaline courses through you. 

"are you alright?"

you nod, forcing a small, unconvincing smile."yeah... i’m fine. thanks to you." 

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. you follow his gaze instinctively, glancing down at yourself. that’s when you notice it —not on you, but on him.

streaks of red stain his forearm, where jagged shards of glass must have cut him during the confrontation. the gash bleeds steadily, a dark line of blood seeping through the fabric of his jacket.

"wait," you breathe, your heart sinking. "you're bleeding."

your stomach twists with guilt.

"why didn’t you say anything?" you exclaim.

he shakes his head, a dismissive gesture that does nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach. "it’s nothing," he says, but the slight furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw betray his words.

"nothing?" you fix him with a hard glare. "idiot… you just blocked a glass bottle with your arm, don’t try to downplay this."  

you grab his sleeve, tugging it gently but firmly, the fabric sliding beneath your fingers as you pull it up. “—and unless you think an infection is ‘nothing’, you’ll let me take care of this."  

"hold still," you murmur as you settle beside him on the couch, your supplies spread across the coffee table in front of you.

the scent of antiseptic fills the air as you take a disinfectant wipe and gently dab it against the gash. the sting of the alcohol makes him flinch slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. you mutter a soft apology, your movements slow and deliberate as you try to be as gentle as you can.

you open a tube of ointment, squeezing a small amount onto your finger before smoothing it carefully along the edges of the cut. the cool gel glides over his skin, and you can feel the tension in his arm ease ever so slightly under your touch.

“nǐ zhème guān xīn wǒ, huì ràng wǒ wù huì de.”

if you care so much about me, i might misunderstand you.

your fingers pause briefly, the words catching you off guard. you glance up at him, but he only averts his gaze, his eyes remaining fixed on a distant spot beyond the room.

misunderstand? misunderstand what, exactly?

the bandage wraps securely around his arm as you smooth it into place. as you tuck the end of the bandage, his voice comes again, just as soft, but no less clear. 

“—wù huì nǐ duì wǒ yǒu gǎn jué.”

"—misunderstand that you have feelings for me."

your brain short-circuits, and in your shock, your hands jerk. in turn, the bandage tightens way too much, causing him to wince and tense up. before you can apologise, he lets out a light chuckle.

“suǒ yǐ nǐ dān xīn wǒ… nǐ shì bù shì gù yì ràng rén xīn dòng de?”

“so you're worried about me… are you purposely trying to make my heart race?”

his words only make you more flustered, and you find yourself fumbling to fix the bandage. “i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to—”

his chuckle only grows softer, and you catch the glint of amusement in his eyes. “it’s fine.”

you quickly finish adjusting the bandage, trying to focus on anything other than how your heart is now racing. (ironically) 

“you seem flustered,” he comments casually, as if he isn’t the one who just made your head spin. “did i say something wrong?”

you shake your head quickly, hoping to hide the flush creeping up your neck. "no, not at all.”

his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smirk.

"nǐ bù bì yǎn shì, wǒ xǐ huān nǐ hài xiū de yàng zǐ, tǐng kě ài de.”

“you don’t have to hide it. i like seeing your flustered expression, it’s quite cute.”

(oh this bastard!!!!)

you try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat. what do you say when someone’s teasing you so openly —and they think you don’t even realise it?

after a long moment, he stands, “it’s getting late, i should get going.” alhaitham gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment —and there it was, that trace of softness reserved only for you.

he heads toward the door, you watch him, feeling a strange sense of emptiness when he turns away.

“i’ll see you,” he pauses. "...and thank you for tending to me."

you watch him leave, the door clicking softly behind him, and the silence settles back into the room.

you blink, taking a deep breath. what a rollercoaster of a day. yawning, you turn to start tidying up, but your eyes land on something on the couch.

it’s his jacket, draped over the armrest. you notice a tear on the sleeve, just where his injured forearm had been. what truly catches your attention, however, is a folded piece of paper slipping out of the pocket. 

intrigued, you unfold it, revealing his neat, precise handwriting. 

ACT VII: THE SECRET I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN. 

To [Name],  I once believed you to be little more than a nuisance. A bright, well-meaning nuisance, no doubt, but a nuisance nonetheless. One who seemed intent only on striving for perfection, always seeking to best me at every turn, not out of malice but out of some earnest desire to prove your worth. In my arrogance, I mistook your relentless pursuit for a need for recognition, as if you sought my attention in some petty rivalry. Though very quickly, you made me think otherwise.  You saw the world differently, you also saw me differently. You didn’t treat me with the reverence others seemed to, nor did you shy away from challenging me. You refused to be seen as anything other than yourself; and that, in itself, was what made me admire you —what made me long to understand you more. Now, I find that I am standing with half a heart and an emptiness I never knew I could feel, because you showed me what it truly means to crave something more, something I never thought I deserved. You may think I’m a coward for not expressing my feelings more directly, perhaps you are right. I am a coward for fearing to lay bare the vulnerability of my heart. But even in my cowardice, know that my thoughts have always been of you.  If you have seen through my silence and hesitation, if you understand my actions when my words fail me, then perhaps you have already known this truth. I care for you, more deeply than I can fully express. Though I may never be able to say these things as openly as I wish, I’d like you to know that my actions have always been my confession. Even now, I’m still a coward for you. So please, if you decide to give me a chance, I’ll be waiting at nightfall. Helplessly,  Alhaitham. 

you absentmindedly trace the edges of the letter with your fingers while your eyes skim over his writing for the nth time, the ink seeming to blur together with your thoughts as you try to process everything. your fingers curl around the fabric of his jacket, a foolish smile creeping onto your face.

tomorrow’s nightfall feels impossibly far away, yet you can’t wait for it. 

alhaitham lays on his bed, his arm aches slightly from the injury, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore. plus, the bandage you had carefully wrapped around his arm is enough to keep the discomfort at bay. 

(originally, he had only planned to meet you, slip you the note, and be on his way. things didn’t go exactly to plan, but either way, he hopes you’ve read it by now.)

of all the possibilities, he’s never accounted for the one he’d be at mercy of his own emotions; he had always prided himself on his rationality, his restraint. but now? he’s reckless, absurd, foolish even —he can admit that to himself. but he finds he doesn’t care in the slightest.

for as much as he is a coward in your presence, he is just as much a fool in your absence.

ACT VIII: UNDER THE RAIN, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY. 

“alhaitham isn’t really an expressive person, so don’t worry if he comes off as distant or uninterested. it’s not that he doesn’t care, he just… shows it differently.”

ah well, ‘differently’ indeed.

“—most importantly, alhaitham doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t care about, so you must mean a lot to him.”

maybe you didn’t mind how your heart raced when you heard that.

“don’t fuss over it [name], you’ll know when he’s in love.”

how so? 

if he was in love, what would it look like? would you be able to tell, or would it be just another one of those things you had to catch on to?

you wrapped the his jacket tighter around yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips. it wasn’t the answers to those questions that mattered, but asking them in the first place —that was what made you realize you already knew all along.

the evening air is cool against your skin; a gentle breeze stirs the trees, their leaves rustling quietly, and your heart beats louder than ever, urging you forward.

in the distance, you spot him, standing still in the dim light. and without a second thought, you quicken your pace.

“haitham.”

the sound of your voice catches his attention as he turns to face you; you can’t help but notice how his gaze flickers down for just a moment, his eyes taking in on how his jacket looks on you, before meeting yours. 

his posture is unnervingly perfect, rigid almost to the point of stiffness …is he nervous?

“hey,” he finally says, clearing his throat. “there’s something i need to tell you… though you’ve probably already figured it out. you’ve always been sharp.” 

“i… ” he falters, and it’s the first time you see him hesitate. “i’m not sure how to put it… since i’m not exactly great at this.”

you tilt your head, subtly urging him to continue. 

“but you’ve managed to make me care about things i never thought i would. and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about it —about you.” his voice lowers, softer now, but there’s a rawness there that’s unmistakable.

“i’m telling you this now, because not saying it... doesn’t feel right anymore."

suddenly, you feel a soft mist that barely kisses your skin, a slight chill against your cheeks, then a few tiny drops,  until they start to gather in your hair, the beads of water slipping down the back of your neck, but you don't move. neither does he.

his hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, droplets trailing down his temple. his clothes cling to his frame, soaked by the rain, yet his attention remains solely on you.

“[name], i am irrevocably in love with you.”

you stand there, the rain falling relentlessly around you, the pitter-patter mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. the water trails down his face, but it’s hard to tell if it’s just the rain, or something else.

his lips part, as though he wants to say more, but the words seem caught in the storm, swallowed up by the downpour. the rain is cold, but his gaze? his gaze feels impossibly warm. 

it’s only when you feel the dampness of his jacket beneath your fingers, that the words finally come. “you don’t need to convince me of that.”

you take a step closer, and for a moment, the world outside seems to disappear.

“i’ve known,” you add. “but hearing you say it,” you pause, allowing yourself a small smile, “makes all the difference.”

reaching up, your fingers graze his damp skin as you gently push a wet strand of hair from his forehead, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cool skin. 

“'uhibuk aydan, alhaitham.”

i love you too, alhaitham.

a single droplet slides down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before falling to the soaked fabric of his collar. another follows. and then another. his breath catches in his throat, and a shaky exhale leaves his mouth.

you wrap your arms around him, and he sinks into your embrace, his hair tickling your cheeks, as his chest rises and falls against yours.

“you’re gonna make me cry too, idiot,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest, your eyes glassy. “you really are a fool,” you tease softly, a slight smile playing on your lips. “but only for me.”

slowly, his hands rise, trembling slightly, until they cup your cheeks, gently stroking it. 

“la yujad 'ahad akhar 'urid 'an 'akun 'ahmaq min 'ajlihi.”

there’s no one else i’d ever want to be a fool for.

his palms are surprisingly warm despite the weather. his thumb grazes your cheekbone as he leans in, and the world falls away —nothing but the warmth of his presence and the soft press of his lips against yours.

“this is my first time in ten years seeing this guy cry! can you believe it?!” kaveh whisper-shouts, peeking out from behind the shrub. 

nodding along, cyno agrees, poking his head out just right below the blond’s. “[name] is truly exceptional. though i must say, seeing alhaitham cry is quite tear-rifying.”

kaveh rolls his eyes in exasperation. “ugh, you and your puns.” he mutters under his breath while zooming in on his phone, which is currently recording the whole scene.

“quiet down, you two!” a voice hisses from behind them —tighnari, face flushed with panic. “they’re literally right there, and you’re making more noise than a herd of goats.”

“relax, we’re out of their line of sight anyway!” kaveh raises his phone higher, almost giddily, eyes glued to the screen. “and damn this is a good angle.”

tighnari exhales sharply, “you’re incorrigible.”

“look who’s talking,” cyno raises an eyebrow at tighnari… who’s also peeking out from behind the bush. (what a hypocrite)

…

“they kissed oh my g—” kaveh’s voice rises in disbelief, but cyno quickly covers his mouth with a swift hand. the three of them scramble to duck behind the bush just as you turn to glance in their direction.

(“is that… senior kaveh?” you squint your eyes, “cyno, and tighnari?” 

alhaitham clears his throat before glancing over at his friends with a deadpan expression. “yes and unfortunately, they’re very invested in my personal life. so please don’t mind them."

you laugh, finding the whole situation a bit too amusing. “not in the slightest, but i’m sure they’ll never let you hear the end of it.”)

EPILOGUE: IN EVERY LANGUAGE, I HEAR LOVE YOU.

“how long?”

you blink, feigning confusion. “how long what?”

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, an expression you know well. “how long have you understood everything i’ve been saying?”

you bite back a smile and offer a small shrug, “...ever since you started?” 

his lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s upset or impressed. then, he sighs, almost amused. “and you let me embarrass myself all this time?”

“you were being honest,” you shrug, a smirk forming. “plus i knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “may ideya ka ba kung ano ginawa mo?"

do you have any idea what you’ve done?

"mas lalong umibig sakin?"

made you fall in love with me even more?

you tease, but there’s a tenderness in your voice that softens the edge of your words.

“yes, and you really are insufferable,” he mutters with no malice. his tone is different now. softer. warmer, even.

you lean in slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “that’s not what i heard you say before.” your fingers graze the skin of his cheek before you tenderly pinch it, giggling softly at the reaction you provoked.

in one smooth motion, he catches your hand before you can pull away and tugs you towards him, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. you tilt your head back to meet alhaitham’s gaze.

you’ve often thought he’s the most-perfect boyfriend, undeniably handsome in every way —but there’s really just one flaw: his height.

“ugh, you’re too tall," you grumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "i’m having a neck sore just looking at you."

he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden words. “you could use a stepstool.” 

"or," you counter, "you could get on your knees and save me the trouble.”

he slowly lets out a breath, his lips curling ever so slightly. 

“'akida, 'antaziri hataa 'ashtari alkhatama.”

sure, just wait till i buy the ring.

"wh—" 

he crosses his arms, "what’s wrong? isn’t that what people expect when someone gets on their knees?"

you roll your eyes, half-smiling. "fine, then i’ll eagerly wait for that day.”

his gaze softens as his hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face; his eyes drop to your lips for a moment, and you know what’s coming even before he speaks.

this fic was not sponsored by duolingo, but with the help of my beloved friends!! wouldn't have been possible w/o em please give them a round of applause xx

vietnamese — @https-sourlimes

tagalog / filipino — @vxnuslogy

arabic — @ughscara

chinese, japanese — me!

ty @mitsvriii for proofreading, love u all <3

and thank you for reading!! reblogs are appreciated ^^

pspspss check out the cool fanart / comic based on this fic here by @rei-plswork 🤍

MASTERLIST.

[chrisissobabygirl]

☆ pepsi-flavored lips - c.s

c/w: fluff, kissing, swearing, i think that's it??

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

you hadn't thought much of it when you picked up the pepsi-flavored chapstick from the nearby store, taking it like an impulse buy—something silly to throw into your bag at the checkout. sure, it was cheap and a little kitschy, but it reminded you of chris. hell, he practically had pepsi running through his veins at that point.

and it had to be the best purchase you had ever made because chris was fucking obsessed.

it started with an unassuming kiss—a quick, fleeting one as he flopped down next to you on the couch of your shared house with him and his brothers, nestling his arm around you.

"hey," he said, leaning in to press his lips against yours like a habit before pulling back, turning his attention to the rom-com you were watching, subconsciously rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

his movements halted, his brows furrowing. you glanced at him, anticipating an explanation. he turned to face you, his tongue darting out to swipe across his lips. "wait. what the hell?"

you glanced at him. "what?" you asked, fegning innocence. "i thought i finished the last can 'f pepsi, kid." chris narrowed his eyes at you, a sly grin slowly forming on his face.

"you did, chris." you replied, amused at his reaction. "then why'd ya' taste like pepsi, ma?" he asked, piecing the information together.

"i really have no idea, ch-" you were cut off by his lips brushing against yours again—for longer this time. he pulled back, his eyes alight with joy like a kid in a toy store. "you fuckin' liar."

your laughter was immediate, bubbling out of you in surprise. you reached into your pocket, and fished out the small tube of chapstick. "it's chapstick, christopher. pepsi-flavored. see? it's really not that deep. i'm not stealing your pepsi, dude."

your boyfriend snatched the chapstick out of your hands, squinting his eyes to read the small label out loud, grinning from ear to ear. "why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"baby, it's just-" before you could complete your sentence, he lunged at you, attacking your lips with his soft ones. "you taste like pepsi," he muttered against your lips, his voice filled with awe.

you pulled away, giggling. "i think that's the point, chris." you pushed his hair out of his face. "best fuckin' purchase ever, ma," he let the chapstick fall onto the sofa and leaned in once more.

you laughed as he caged you against the couch cushions. his hands found your waist as he pressed his lips to yours again, this time slow and deliberate, savoring the flavor like he was tasting the cola from the can itself.

"you're insane," you mumbled, the grin tugging at your lips giving you away. "and you're delicious. you're wearin' this forever, y' know that, right?" he shot back, not missing a beat. "fuck, i'm buying this for you in bulk, kid."

shaking your head at his playful words, you couldn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. a rush of affection overtook you, and without thinking, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss, hard and unapologetic.

"fuckin' pepsi-flavored lips."

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

a/n: him accusing reader of stealing his pepsi is CRAZY work

wc: 532

[stunie]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wish Kaji was here already.

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

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

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

“Kaji!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“….She's probably taken.”

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

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

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

More laughter.

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

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

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

“Really?”

“Of course—”

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

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

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

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

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

They flinch at the tone.

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

SAKURA HARUKA.

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

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

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

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

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

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

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

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

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

I know— dressed like a whore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—The fuck did you do?”

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

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

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

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

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

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

“He made me angry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

part 2

[mrfoox]

Kinda love that almost all my friends have some sort of theme when I dream about them

Roo: weird/intense shit happens but he always gets me out of the situation and takes charge

Fabian: we literally just go camping. Or go on car rides. Things are calm, we are in nature, all is well

Oliver: he sleeps. I may put a blanket on him. Or I bring him something to eat

Magnus: he's just doing the usual, doing a lil dance, wearing odd hats, smiling a lot

[solxamber]

This is a funny lil idea I just had but have you ever thought about rook and a reader that acts like his behavior is normal? Like, they know he's literally stalking them but is perfectly fine with it for some strange reason.

And when they finally do start dating, everyone is either

1. Convinced that he’s threatening your life

Or

2. Judging you like crazy because WHY

Totally Normal Romance || Rook Hunt

You've fallen hard for the hunter and you're dating! But when you tell your friends the good news, they immediately try staging interventions. Huh, I wonder why?

thank you for waiting! I loved the idea a lot and it became way longer than I expected but I hope you like it!

You’ve somehow managed to fall into a relationship with Rook, the Academy's resident “Hunter” and renowned tracker of students who can't even attempt to hide without him finding them.

Most people would be a little alarmed—okay, extremely alarmed—by Rook’s knack for showing up whenever you breathe a little too loud. But you? You’re weirdly, unapologetically chill about it.

The day starts as it usually does. Rook is outside your door bright and early, practically sparkling, ready to report how many steps you took in your sleep, how many breaths you exhaled, and what percentage of your dreams contained images of his dashing silhouette.

You nod, acting like he’s merely sharing the weather, and go about your morning. People are whispering in the hallways; they’ve noticed that the school’s “greatest hunter” is now your personal shadow.

Some think you're being held hostage in an unholy union. Others are convinced you’ve cracked under the pressure of Rook’s endless poetic monologues and have, in fact, lost your mind.

When the two of you officially start dating, the rumors take a delightful nosedive into the surreal. Rook is, naturally, over the moon, reciting sonnets about your “captivating acceptance of his pursuit.” Friends beg you to “see the red flags.”

You just smile as Rook emerges from behind a tree on your morning jog to hand you a flower he found “radiant with the essence of your aura.”

Intervention Attempt 1: Adeuce

You’re just sitting down to lunch when Ace and Deuce suddenly approach you with identical expressions of horror and determination, like they’ve somehow stumbled into a horror movie and taken it upon themselves to rescue the clueless protagonist. Ace, as usual, decides to take the lead.

“We need to talk. About... him.” He jerks a thumb toward Rook, who’s lurking—quite visibly—behind a tree, watching you with a delighted grin as if the entire world is his favorite reality TV show.

You shrug. “Rook’s just being his usual sweet self.”

Deuce’s mouth falls open. “That’s... sweet? The dude’s literally hiding in a tree to stare at you.”

You wave a hand. “He’s just thoughtful, you know? He knew I needed a pick-me-up yesterday, so he waited in my closet for two hours just to surprise me with a motivational haiku.”

Ace’s expression is somewhere between pity and disbelief. “You’re serious? That’s... sweet?”

“Uh-huh.” You pop a fry in your mouth, unfazed. “Honestly, it’s kind of nice to have someone that dedicated.”

Ace and Deuce share a silent, horrified look, one that clearly says, Our friend has lost it. Then, Ace leans in close. “You know, if he’s threatening you, you can blink twice or something. We can handle him.”

You burst into laughter, almost choking on your fry. “Guys, come on! Rook’s harmless. It’s just his way of showing affection.”

Behind the tree, Rook notices you laughing and beams even wider, waving with both hands like you’re his entire world. Ace sighs, looking like he’s just signed up for an impossible mission. Deuce’s brows knit together in concern, like he’s mentally preparing himself to guard you from the “danger” Rook apparently presents.

Intervention Attempt 2: Leona

Leona lounges on the couch as you walk into the room, looking way too relaxed—except for the sharp glint in his eye as he watches you. You know that look; it’s the we need to talk look, though Leona would sooner eat his tail than say it outright.

��You know that guy who keeps creeping around you?” he starts, his tone casual, as if he’s talking about the weather. “The hunter dude?”

“Oh, Rook? Yeah, he’s great!” you reply with a smile, clearly missing his hint.

Leona raises an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “Great? The guy basically tracks your every move like a lion on a hunt. He’s probably memorized your breathing patterns by now.”

You laugh it off, waving a hand. “Leona, you make it sound creepy. Rook’s just… committed.”

Leona smirks, leaning back with a lazy yawn. “Committed to what, stalking you?”

You shrug. “It’s romantic in its own way! He writes poetry about me, makes sure I’m always safe... It’s kinda nice knowing someone’s always watching out for me.”

“Watching out for you,” Leona mutters, barely concealing a snicker. “Sure. Or just watching you.” He tilts his head, examining you as if you’re some rare species that’s suddenly shown up in the savanna. “You sure he hasn’t put a spell on you? You sound completely out of it.”

You smirk. “Leona, you’re just not used to people showing appreciation.”

Leona narrows his eyes, amusement flickering in his gaze. “You keep saying stuff like that, herbivore, and I’m gonna assume you’ve completely lost it.” He yawns and flops back onto the couch, muttering under his breath, “That crazy hunter and his weird haikus…”

You walk away, oblivious, and Leona just shakes his head with a smirk, quietly wondering if he’ll end up having to pry Rook off of you someday.

Intervention Attempt 3: Riddle

Riddle stares at you over his teacup, his brows knit with concern as you talk about your latest “date” with Rook. You've barely started describing his newest poetic declaration when Riddle sets his cup down, looking thoroughly alarmed.

“I… don’t understand,” he interrupts. “Did you say he was waiting in the shadows outside your dorm window at midnight? And he… recited sonnets?”

You nod, completely unbothered. “Oh, yes! And he was so sweet about it. He even had a rose between his teeth, Riddle. He really went all out.”

Riddle’s expression looks like he’s been hit with cold water. “And you… didn’t feel unsafe?”

“Why would I?” you laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s Rook. He’s just being his passionate self.”

Riddle’s face hardens, and he stands up, clutching his teacup with barely contained fury. “This is unacceptable! You must report this immediately—stalking is a severe issue! You don’t have to tolerate this treatment, no matter how he frames it!”

You blink, surprised. “Riddle, it’s really okay. He’s not stalking me; he’s just… really attentive.”

Riddle’s lips thin, and he looks at you with pity, as if you're just too naive to understand the danger you’re in. “It’s worse than I thought,” he mutters, eyes blazing. “He’s… he’s manipulating you into thinking this is acceptable!”

Riddle finally sighs, shaking his head. “If you’re too afraid to tell him off, I’ll do it for you. As a dorm leader, it’s my duty to protect students in my care.”

“Riddle, I appreciate it, but I don’t need protection,” you insist, patting him on the shoulder. “Rook is harmless.”

Riddle huffs, looking like he’s already planning out the verbal lashing he’s going to deliver to Rook the next time he sees him. “You’ll see,” he says. “When you realize the danger, remember I warned you.”

You just smile, and he glances at you like you’re a sheep walking happily into a lion’s den.

Intervention Attempt 4: Malleus (And Lilia?)

When Malleus summons you to Diasomnia for what he calls an “urgent matter,” you’re intrigued. However, when you arrive, his expression is downright grave. The flickering candlelight gives his face an eerie glow as he looks at you, his usually calm demeanor laced with worry.

He leans in close, and his eyes narrow. “I understand you… spend much time with Rook,” he says, voice almost a whisper.

“Uh, yeah? We’re dating,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Malleus blinks, clearly taken aback, as if he was expecting an entirely different answer. “So you willingly… permit him to lurk in the shadows around you?”

“Well, yes, he’s got that whole poetic ‘silent protector’ thing going on.” You shrug, but Malleus doesn’t look any less alarmed.

“I see,” Malleus says, more to himself than to you. “So he’s already gained control over you.” He sighs, looking deeply concerned. “Fear not. I will protect you from him.”

Before you can respond, Lilia, who’s been silently watching with a smirk, bursts into laughter.

“Oh, Malleus, you’re taking this far too seriously,” he cackles, clapping a hand on Malleus’s shoulder. “Rook isn’t dangerous—well, unless you count bad poetry as a weapon.”

Malleus doesn’t look convinced. “You find this funny?” he asks, frowning.

“Of course I do!” Lilia grins, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. “They’re dating, Malleus. Rook doesn’t even know how to scare a fly when it comes to them.”

Malleus turns back to you, still worried. “Are you… certain you’re safe?”

You nod, but the look of pity in his eyes says he’s clearly unconvinced, as if he thinks you’re only defending Rook out of fear. Meanwhile, Lilia gives you a wink and a mischievous grin, enjoying the absurdity of the whole situation.

Intervention Attempt 5: Azul

You’re strolling past the Mostro Lounge, hoping to grab some food, when Azul intercepts you, looking unusually serious. He gestures for you to follow him into a private corner, glancing around as if he's worried someone might overhear.

“I understand you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Rook,” he says, his tone grave, though there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s already calculating something.

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, we’re dating.”

Azul’s expression shifts to something between shock and pity, as if he’s just heard you’ve taken up with the Grim Reaper himself. “Dating? So… you’re aware he’s stalking you?”

You shrug. “He’s not stalking—he’s just keeping an eye out. Very vigilant, actually.”

Azul’s face darkens. “Right… vigilant.” He clears his throat. “In that case, allow me to offer the services of Floyd and Jade for your… protection.”

You blink. “Protection?”

“Yes. For a reasonable price, of course,” he says with a smooth smile, back to his usual self. “Consider it a sort of… insurance in case this arrangement with Rook takes a… dramatic turn.”

He leans forward, lowering his voice. “Imagine if you had two skilled guards who could tail him as closely as he tails you.”

Before you can respond, Floyd appears out of nowhere, draping an arm over your shoulder and grinning. “We could totally scare him, too. Make him feel like he’s the one being hunted!”

Jade nods from behind him, his smile too sharp to be comforting. “Yes, we’re more than happy to shadow Rook if you’d like.”

You stare at the twins, whose predatory smiles seem to stretch further the longer they look at you. “Guys, I appreciate the offer, but Rook’s fine. I’m not being held captive.”

Azul raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t push, instead sighing in that dramatic way of his. “Very well. The offer stands should you need it. Just remember: one word, and we’re at your service.”

As you walk away, you catch a quiet exchange between the twins.

“Do you think we’d even get the chance to tail him, Jade?”

“Hmm… I’d say it’s more likely he’d follow us, Floyd.”

You shake your head, amused. Only Azul would find a way to capitalize on your love life.

Intervention(?) Attempt 6: Vil

You’re backstage in Pomefiore, helping Vil with his costume adjustments for his latest role when he pauses, hands on his hips, giving you a long, evaluative look.

“So… you and Rook?” he finally says, an eyebrow raised with an almost resigned air.

“Yeah.” You grin, shrugging. “I mean, he’s… intense, but it works.”

Vil sighs, pressing two fingers to his temple as if that would ward off the headache he’s certain to get from this conversation. “You realize that most people would find his behavior concerning, right?”

You wave him off. “He’s harmless. Just… expressive.”

He gives a soft, humorless laugh, as though he’s not sure if you’re just that naive or that confident. “You’re both completely mad, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you say, leaning back with a shrug. “But I like it that way.”

Vil sighs again, and there’s a glimmer of a smile, even if it’s hidden behind a look of sheer exasperation. “Well, at least he won’t make you look bad. He’ll be too busy swooning in the background to do anything truly reckless.” He adjusts your collar with an air of finality, giving you a nod. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

And with that, he returns to his preparations, mumbling something under his breath about how only you could take Rook’s intensity as a “feature” rather than a “warning sign.” But you catch the faint smile on his face as he walks away, leaving you feeling oddly reassured.

Final Intervention: Idia

Idia’s “intervention” is the sort of spectacle that would probably have your other friends dial emergency numbers if they walked in. He's got his laptop perched on a stack of comics, his tablet propped up, and an honest-to-Seven laser pointer he’s brandishing like it’s going to physically ward off any poor life choices.

He points at his first diagram, titled in neon-green font: "Why Your Boyfriend Should Not Be Tracking Your Every Move Like a Supervillain”. It's complete with cartoonish red arrows and diagrams that could pass for an undergrad thesis on questionable behavior.

Rook’s sitting beside you, nodding along with a strangely approving look, as if Idia's crude drawings are just part of the "unrefined genius" he'd expect from mere mortals.

When Idia clicks to his next slide—a very intense pie chart on “Reasons You’re Definitely in Danger"—you shrug. “Look, Idia, everyone’s got their quirks, right? He leaves poetry scrolls for me; you send messages only through encrypted text channels with six layers of memes as the header.”

Idia stares at you, blinking, and drops his laser pointer. It rolls pathetically across the floor, and he looks like he’s two seconds away from fainting. “Th-This isn’t the same! I don’t leave my IP address in your flowerbeds!”

Rook, thrilled, interjects. “Ah, but would you not feel a poetic stirring in your heart if you did, monsieur? Every new line I compose is a love letter to the chase!”

Idia sways. You’re genuinely worried he might black out.

Life, as it turns out, continues with a healthy dose of Rook’s “love language,” which to everyone else looks like the dictionary definition of a security risk.

Yet, you find yourself smiling every time he swoops in with that glittering look in his eyes, poetry scrolls under his arm and a thousand strange ideas.

And even if everyone around you is either looking into exorcisms or planning escape routes, for you, it’s just another day of living your best life.

Masterlist

[solaceseven]

inked

↳ summary: after two weeks apart, gojo comes home to a surprise—your love, permanently inked into your skin.

→ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x fem!reader

→ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

→ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: tattoo mentioned. unprotected soft sex. nothing crazy tbh.

→ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k+

Nerves you hadn’t anticipated began to bubble up, weaving their way through your chest and settling just beneath your skin. They were spurred on by the text sitting on your phone:

“10 minutes out. See you soon. I love you.”

Two weeks. Two long weeks without Gojo Satoru, two weeks in a bed that felt impossibly empty without him sprawling across it. Seeing him again after he’d been away was always exciting—but this time, there was an edge of nervousness that made your hands clammy and your mind spiral with doubts you knew weren’t real.

Your fingers hovered over the soft fabric of your shirt, pressing lightly against your ribs where the new addition to your body lay hidden. It had been an idea you’d toyed with for months, one fueled by Shoko’s persistent reassurances that Gojo would love it, that it was exactly the kind of thing he’d appreciate. Her encouragement had been the final push you needed, convincing you to do it while Gojo was away on one of his longer missions.

You’d planned everything down to the smallest detail, keeping it secret for weeks, and now, as the faint hum of his cursed energy swept through the apartment and the sound of his key turning in the door filled the air, you realized the moment was finally here.

Satoru was nothing if not consistent. The moment he stepped through the door, he dropped his bags unceremoniously by the entrance and came looking for you, the one reason he didn’t mind coming back from a mission, the one reason this place felt like home. You felt his presence before you saw him—a ripple of cursed energy that always seemed to announce his arrival—and then his arms were around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

His lips found the side of your neck, brushing a soft kiss against the exposed skin just above the neckline of the sweatshirt you wore. His sweatshirt, really.

“Hey, you,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand moved to rest over his forearm. It was impossible not to smile when Satoru was involved. “Mission go okay?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, his lips trailing lazily up and down your neck, each touch slow and deliberate. “Missed you.”

Your fingers reached back instinctively, tangling in the soft strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Missed you too, Satoru,” you murmured, voice warm and steady. “Always.”

He smiled against your neck, his lips brushing just below your ear before pulling back. His hands slid to your hips, gently tugging you, silently asking for you to turn toward him. You didn’t hesitate, shifting to face him, and the second you did, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, steady, and all-consuming, reminding you exactly why every long mission, every restless night without him, every aching moment spent apart, was worth it.

It was worth it because Gojo loved you. He loved you in a way you once thought was impossible for someone like him, someone so untouchable, so larger than life. He loved you in a way you never thought possible for yourself, in a way that felt like it had been pulled from a story, something too good to be real.

But it was real. Gojo loved you deeply, with everything he was. He loved you with an intensity that could both quiet the noise of the world and fill it with endless laughter. It seeped into the cracks of your life, filling spaces you hadn’t realized were empty. He loved you loudly, in ways that made your heart race, but also quietly, in the moments when his care spoke louder than words.

Gojo loved with a kind of intensity that could make your head spin, unrelenting and unapologetic. He wasn’t subtle—subtlety wasn’t in his nature. He’d pull you into his arms without warning, spinning you around just to hear you laugh, or press endless kisses to your face while you half-heartedly swatted at him, knowing it would only encourage him.

He’d take every opportunity to be close to you, tangling himself around you on the couch during movie nights, even if it meant he barely watched the screen. Sometimes, he’d lean in far too close while you were in the middle of a task, resting his chin on your shoulder and grinning as he distracted you with some ridiculous joke or a kiss just behind your ear. Satoru loved loudly, with every part of him. It was in the way he intertwined your lives so completely that it was impossible to tell where his affection stopped and your happiness began. He never gave halfway—it was always all or nothing, and with you, it was always all. Being loved by Gojo meant being smothered in warmth, in laughter, in his ever-present need to remind you, in a thousand ways, that you were his whole world.

Gojo’s hands slipped under your sweatshirt, his touch warm and unhurried as his lips captured yours in a kiss that left no space for doubt or hesitation. His fingers brushed against your skin as he pushed the fabric higher, pausing just long enough for you to pull back and let him tug it over your head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

His mouth found your neck again, hot and deliberate, his hands steady as he guided you onto his lap at the edge of the bed, your legs wrapping around him like it was second nature. His fingers ghosted over your skin, tracing up your sides, brushing over your back, and then gliding back down in a rhythm that made your breath catch. His lips moved lower, trailing over your collarbone, leaving gentle nips that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I… did something,” you murmured, your voice soft as your hand combed through his snowy hair. His lips stilled, and he pulled back, blue eyes locking onto yours, curious and patient.

“For me?” he asked, his voice tinged with playful disbelief, though his expression softened as he searched your face. Gojo could wait forever when it came to you—especially when you were perched on his lap, his hands steady on your thighs, your cheeks flushed in a way that made his heart stutter.

You nodded, taking a breath, but instead of standing up or moving away, you shifted slightly, your fingers drifting to your ribs. Gojo’s gaze followed, and his playful smirk faded the moment he saw it—the delicate ink etched into your skin, just beneath your breast.

Gojo shifted forward, his hand hovering hesitantly before his fingertips brushed the delicate addition to your skin. The touch was so light you almost didn’t feel it, but then he did it again, this time with a little more pressure, as if grounding himself in the reality of what he was seeing. His other arm curled securely around your waist, pulling you close as his eyes focused on the small, black script etched into your ribs.

Just two lowercase letters—that was all. A single lowercase g and a single lowercase s. Simple, yet it was so much more than that. It was for him, a tattoo for him, because of your love for him. Or maybe, really, because of his love for you. No one loved you like Gojo Satoru did. It was the kind of love that made you believe it couldn’t have been an accident. You were certain you’d loved him in lifetimes past, and you’d love him again in lifetimes to come, because no one could love like this without practice.

His breath caught, and for once, he was speechless. His hand reached out, tentative and reverent, as his fingertips brushed over the tattoo again, slower this time. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, his wide-eyed wonder making your chest tighten.

“You…” he finally started, his voice soft and unsteady in a way you rarely heard. “You did this… for me?”

You nodded, the movement small and almost hesitant, your eyes searching his face for a reaction. His breath caught again, and his hand, still resting lightly on your waist, tightened just slightly, as if anchoring himself.

Gojo’s gaze dropped back to the tattoo, his fingertips brushing over the ink with a reverence that made your chest ache. He didn’t speak again for a long moment, his wide-eyed wonder making it clear that, for once, the words weren’t coming easily. Instead, he traced the delicate letters over and over, his touch warm and deliberate, like he was trying to etch the memory into himself as deeply as the ink was etched into your skin.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft.

Too because that’s what this told him so clearly, without a single word spoken. Too because you’d marked yourself with his initials, a permanent reminder that no one else could ever hold your heart, though he’d always known that to be true. Too because no one had ever loved him as effortlessly or as completely as you did, and Gojo was determined to make sure you knew how deeply he cherished the way you loved him.

Gojo’s eyes lingered on the tattoo, his fingers tracing the delicate letters like he was trying to memorize every curve and line. Then, without a word, he leaned in and kissed you, soft and deliberate, pouring all his unspoken gratitude into the connection.

You kissed him back, your hands cradling his face as his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. It wasn’t until your fingertips brushed his cheek that you noticed the dampness there. Slowly, you pulled back, your breath catching at the sight of a tear sliding down his face.

A tender smile tugged at your lips as you brought your thumb to his cheek, brushing the tear away gently. “Baby,” you whispered, the word filled with so much warmth it made his breath hitch.

He let out a soft, shaky laugh, leaning into your touch, his hand still firm on your waist. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low but steady, full of meaning. “So much.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before his lips found yours again, this time with more urgency. The kiss was deeper now, his grip on your waist tightening as you shifted in his lap. When your hips rolled against his, a low groan escaped him, muffled against your mouth, his hand pressing you down, encouraging the movement.

Gojo didn’t just love you—he showed you in every touch, every kiss, and every quiet moment. It was overwhelming, consuming, and so uniquely him, leaving no room for doubt that you were his everything.

Gojo’s lips trailed along your jaw, down your neck, and across your collarbone, unhurried and deliberate. He was never one to rush moments like this, savoring every touch, every kiss, every second he could have with you. His mouth moved lower, pressing soft kisses over your chest until he reached the tattoo. His fingers brushed against the ink as his lips hovered over it, and he mumbled something, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

You caught fragments—half-formed “I love you’s” that spilled out like they were too big to stay trapped in his chest. His lips pressed to the tattoo once, then again, and again, as if he was trying to make his love sink deeper into your skin, becoming another part of you.

“I need you, baby,” you murmured, your fingers threading through his soft hair as you gently pulled him back, reminding him that you were still in his lap, ready for more than just his kisses.

His lips curved into a smile against your skin before he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I need you too,” he whispered, his voice rough and full of want.

You fumbled with your clothes together, hands reluctant to leave each other’s skin even as you tried to shed the layers between you. When you finally managed, Gojo pulled you back into his lap immediately, his hands finding your hips as though they belonged there. His lips were back on your neck, his fingers gently kneading your skin as he whispered, “I love you,” against your shoulder, over and over, like a mantra.

His hands guided you as you placed yours on his shoulders, lifting yourself just enough to let him align with you. His breath caught as you slowly sank down, your hips meeting his in a motion so deliberate it made his eyes flutter shut. For a moment, he didn’t move, letting himself feel everything—the warmth of your skin, the way you fit so perfectly with him, and the overwhelming love that seemed to buzz in the air between you.

When his eyes opened again, they met yours, pupils blown and lips parted, every ounce of his love for you written across his face. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding himself in you as you both began to move together.

Gojo’s hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you in a slow, deliberate rhythm on his lap. His touch was strong but teasing, pulling you forward, then pressing you back, encouraging you to move exactly the way he wanted. His mouth was relentless, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach.

His lips found yours first, the kiss deep and dizzying, stealing the breath from your lungs before he moved to your neck. His tongue and teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, pulling soft, broken moans from you that he drank up like they were his favorite sound. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction.

He kissed lower, his lips brushing across your collarbones, lingering there in a way that made your head tilt back, your hands tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. His groan vibrated against your skin, his hands starting to wander, no longer content to stay still.

His fingers skimmed over your thighs, kneading the soft flesh before sliding up your hips, pressing into your skin as if trying to leave a mark. They trailed to the small of your back, where his touch had you gasping and arching into him, then down your arms, brushing over your wrists and tangling with your hands in his hair.

“God, you feel so good,” he whispered, his tone rough and needy as his lips returned to yours, claiming you in another kiss that left no doubt about what he wanted.

All you could feel was him—his touch, his lips, the heat of his body pressed against yours—and all he seemed to want was more of you. The way he whispered your name, the way his hands gripped and slid over your skin, told you he wasn’t going to stop until every inch of you was his tonight.

“I love you, Satoru,” you whispered, your voice catching as his lips brushed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that he undoubtedly felt.

His head dipped lower, his lips trailing over your skin until they found the tattoo that had already become his favorite part of you. He kissed it softly, reverently, like it was a sacred promise made just for him.

You didn’t have to say you loved him again—not in this lifetime. It was there, inked into your skin, a mark that said it all. It was a message for him and him alone, a declaration that your love was as endless as his, something he would carry with him forever.

His hands slid over your body, one brushing against the tattoo as if grounding himself in the reality of it, the other slipping between your bodies. His touch was slow but deliberate, fingers teasing until they coaxed a gasp from your lips. His lips returned to your neck, murmuring soft words about how beautiful you were, how perfect, how much he loved you.

“Satoru,” you moaned, your fingers gripping his shoulders as his movements sent you spiraling. You felt the tension building in his body, the way he was unraveling with you, and the realization only heightened your own release. His name tumbled from your lips like a prayer as he whispered yours against your skin, his voice low and breathless, grounding you both in this moment.

When it was over, you collapsed against him, your face pressed into the crook of his neck as you caught your breath. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice softer now, his lips brushing against your temple.

“I love you so much, Satoru,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with the weight of your emotions.

“I know,” he said, his tone serious but tender. It wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. He understood the weight behind the two small letters forever etched into your skin. He knew this wasn’t a fleeting love or the kind you’d given to anyone before him.

Your love was his anchor, a safe harbor he could return to no matter what storms came his way. It was a promise, a forever mark that would hold him together when the world threatened to pull him apart.

And in return, Gojo Satoru loved you in every way he could—with his words, his touch, his whole being—but most of all, he loved the way you loved him.

[misticxzs]

Prada Elites

Sypnosis : At a luxurious Prada afterparty, Jay, a famous idol, can’t help but be captivated by his longtime girlfriend, a Prada model, their relationship remaining a well-kept secret. Unable to resist any longer, Jay pulls her away from the prying eyes

Pairing ~ Idol!Jay x Model!reader

Genre ~ Smut,established relationship, secret relationship, oneshot

Warnings ~ SMUT, Intense Make-Out Session, teasing,Daddy Kink, use of “good girl” , foreplay, petnames e.g baby , praising, Rough Sex, Climax and Aftercare, Round Two, fingering,unprotected sex ( dont do it!!), semi public sex??

a/n i was editing it and accidentally posted by accident,soo . i hate hiw i wrote daddy kink im sorry you guys probably think im a weirdo :<

Wc: 2.2k >𝒞atalogue

The Prada afterparty was as extravagant as expected—glamorous lights, luxury-clad guests, and a steady flow of champagne that made the night blur around the edges. You floated through the room, every step purposeful, the custom Prada gown you wore fitting like a second skin. You felt eyes on you all evening, but the only pair you cared about belonged to him.

Jay had been watching you from across the room, his dark eyes heavy with intent. He was wearing an all-black Prada suit, his hair tousled just enough to look like he’d walked straight off a magazine cover. He looked good enough to ruin, but that wasn’t new.

The only thing different tonight was the way he watched you—shameless, unapologetic, and drunk enough to not care who noticed.

He approached you with an unsteady swagger, the glass of whiskey in his hand half-forgotten as he set it on a nearby table. “Hi, beautiful,” he said, his voice low and slurred at the edges.

You raised a brow, amused. “have you been drinking jay?”

“only a little bit,” he argued, his hand reaching for your waist. He pulled you close, his grip firm but familiar. “You look too good tonight. Too good to not be touching you.”

“Jongie,” you whispered, glancing around. The room was filled, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Let them see,” he murmured, lips brushing against your ear. “Let them know you’re mine.”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but you still managed to keep your voice steady. “You’re drunk.”

“And you’re irresistible, baby.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid lower, skimming the curve of your hip. The fabric of your gown was thin, almost sheer, and the warmth of his palm bled through, igniting every nerve.

“Jay—”

“Come with me,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without waiting for your reply, he took your hand and led you out of the main hall. The hallway was dimly lit, quiet compared to the chaos of the party. He backed you into a secluded corner, his body pressing into yours with a heat that made your breath hitch.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he murmured, his lips brushing the side of your neck. “The way everyone’s been looking at you in this dress.”His hands slid over your waist, his touch possessive. He kissed you,his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

“Mhm, i need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine”

You clutched his jacket, pulling him closer, your body responding instinctively to the hunger in his touch.

“Jay, what if someone might—”

“Let them,” he growled, his lips moving to the sensitive spot just below your ear. His hands found the slit of your dress, pushing it aside to reveal more of your skin. His fingers traced the curve of your thigh, sending shivers through you. “Jay,” you gasped, your voice barely sounding like a whisper.

“Say the word, and I’ll stop,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over your collarbone.

You didn’t.

Instead, you pulled him closer, your nails digging into his shoulders. His hands slid higher, his touch teasing and deliberate, and you bit your lip to stifle the sound threatening to spill from you.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment before he kissed you again, deeper this time. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His hands pushing the thin fabric aside to reveal your thigh. His touch was rough, impatient, his fingers skimming your bare skin.

“You’re insane,” you managed to breathe out, though your hands betrayed you as they tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

“For you? Always,” he muttered

His fingers traced the edge of your panties, teasing, before slipping beneath the delicate fabric. Your breath hitched as his fingers found your heat, stroking you with an expertise that made your knees weak.

“Already so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“Jay, we’re—”

“Do you know how hard it’s been not to touch you all night?” he murmured, his lips trailing down the side of your neck. “Look at you,” he muttered, his voice thick with pride and desire. “So ready for me.”

Your head fell back against the wall as he worked you with a precision that made your knees weak. His fingers moved in teasing circles, building you up only to slow down just when you thought you’d fall apart.

“Jay, please,” you gasped,

“Please what?” he asked, his lips brushing against your ear. “Use your big girl words.”

“More,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. He didn’t make you ask twice. Sliding one finger inside you, he groaned softly at the way you clenched around him. He added another, his pace quickening as his thumb found your most sensitive spot.

Your hips bucked against his hand, the pleasure building faster than you could control. The tension coiled tight in your stomach, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan threatening to spill out.

his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you in place. “I want to hear you baby,”

His name slipped from your lips as you came undone, your body quivering against him.

But Jay wasn’t done. Not even close.

His hand left you only long enough to tug at his belt, the soft clink of metal making your breath catch. He worked quickly, his eyes never leaving yours, and when he freed himself, you couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

He smirked at your reaction, his cock hard and heavy in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, deliberately, his eyes dark with desire. He smirked at your reaction, his cock hard and heavy in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, deliberately, his eyes dark with desire.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

“Jay, we can’t—”

“Turn around,” he repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

With trembling hands, you obeyed, your palms pressing flat against the cool wall. Behind you, he moved closer, the heat of his body searing against your back as he pressed a kiss to the curve of your neck.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his cock brushing against your slick entrance. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat.

“Good girl,” he said, his tone both praise and promise,

Jay pushed into you slowly, the stretch drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. His hands gripped your hips firmly, steadying you as he buried himself inside you inch by inch. The fullness was overwhelming, pleasure and pressure mingling as your body adjusted to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead resting against your shoulder for a moment as he stilled, letting you catch your breath. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking perfect.”

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Taking me so well.”

Your fingers curled against the wall, your breathing uneven as you tried to ground yourself. But then he pulled back, almost all the way, before thrusting back in, harder this time. A choked moan slipped from your lips, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“Quiet,” he murmured, though the rasp in his voice made it clear he was anything but calm. “Unless you want everyone out there to know how much of a slut you are”

his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered filthy praise in your ear. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, only clutch at the wall for support as he fucked you.

He set a steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate and deep, his hips snapping against yours with a force that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the otherwise quiet hallway, the wet slide of him inside you embarrassingly loud.

“Jongie—” you gasped, your voice breaking as his hand slid up your body to grasp your breast through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” he growled, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

heat pooling low in your belly again, his other hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and circling it in time with his thrusts.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

Jay froze for a heartbeat, his hips stilling as his grip on your waist tightened. “Say that again,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost dangerous.

“Daddy,” you repeated, your voice trembling.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he thrust into you harder, deeper, pulling a sharp cry from your lips. “That’s right,” he said, his hand sliding up to tilt your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, full of lust and control. “You’re such a good girl for Daddy, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your walls fluttering around him.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his breath hot against your neck. “So desperate for me, so desperate for daddy.”

His smirk was wicked, and he leaned in to press a biting kiss to your lips. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” he murmured against your mouth. “Walking around in that dress, acting like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he cut you off, his voice sharp but filled with dark amusement. “You wanted me like this, didn’t you? Wanted Daddy to take you somewhere quiet and remind you who you belong to.”

You couldn’t argue; the words only made your body burn hotter. “Yes,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, his hand slipping between your thighs to find your clit. The rough pads of his fingers moved in tight, deliberate circles, his thrusts slowing just enough to drive you mad with need.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you, your body arching against his as the pleasure built again, more intense this time. Every thrust, every stroke of his fingers pushed you closer to the edge until you were trembling, your walls clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his movements growing erratic as he chased his own release. “You gonna come for me again, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your nails digging into the wall as your body tensed. “Jay—Daddy,” you gasped, your legs shaking as the pleasure built again, impossibly strong.

“That’s it,” he said, his tone softening as his pace quickened again. “Come for me, baby. Let Daddy feel you.”

The command sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him as you cried out, your release crashing over you in waves. Jay groaned, the sensation pushing him closer to his own climax. His rhythm faltered, his thrusts becoming erratic as he gripped your hips harder, holding you in place as he chased his high.

“Fuck,” he growled, his head dropping to your shoulder as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling into you as his body tensed.

The words dissolved into a cry as you came undone, the intensity of your orgasm leaving you shaking. He cursed under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you.

Jay pulled out of you slowly, his touch lingering as his hands smoothed over your hips. You shivered, still coming down from the intense high, your breath shaky and uneven. He turned you gently to face him, his dark eyes softening as he cupped your flushed cheeks.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice tender now, a contrast to the rough dominance he’d shown moments ago.

You nodded, though your legs felt weak, your body still humming from his touch. “Yeah,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. His lips curved into a satisfied smirk, but there was a flicker of warmth in his expression as he leaned in, kissing you softly. “You were so good for me,” he murmured against your lips. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

As you tried to collect yourself, the muffled sound of the party filtered back into your awareness. Reality loomed, but Jay’s presence grounded you, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a reassuring gesture.

“We should go back,” you said softly, though part of you didn’t want to leave this bubble you’d created.

Jay tilted his head, studying you for a moment. Then, instead of leading you back to the party, he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you toward another door at the end of the hallway. “Jay, where are we going?” you asked, your pulse quickening as he pushed open the door to reveal an empty, dimly lit private lounge.

He turned to you, his smirk deepening. “I’m not done with you yet, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with mischief. “You think I’m letting you go back out there looking like that? Everyone will know exactly what we just did.”

Your cheeks burned, and you opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a kiss—slow and lingering, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised against your lips, his tone soft but commanding. “But you’re not leaving this room until I’ve had my fill.”

[bitchlessdino]

Reckless (m)

Pairing: adult actor!mingyu x pervert afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 4.8k tags: camboy!mingyu, established friendship, banter, brat!reader, glass toys, invasion of privacy, rough play, anal, double penetration, degradation (pervert, slut), choking, spanking, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), swallowing, hair pulling, deep throating Summary: Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of. author note: finally the awaited winner, camboy!mingyu! still so crazy he won over multiple reverse harems on the poll. tagging my wife @wongyuseokie because it's her birthday and deserves to wake up with some NASTY mingyu smut. thank you @highvern for beta-reading to better this fic and like both of us are saying, mingyu is a fucking freakkk in this so enjoy my babies.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @onlymingyus

You have only seen the room in passing personally, but countless times over video. You’re not even shocked by the dozens of expensive toys he’s put in those glass displays, so used to seeing them enter a human orifice one way or the other. The burly man bashfully guides you away from the scandalous room, skillfully diverting your attention to the lush foliage he's entrusted you to tend to, a gentle blush adorning his warm-toned cheeks.

How you keep the fact that you have been secretly watching your friend’s cam shows–including the charity stream of him doing push ups in a singular pair of skintight briefs–was a mystery, even to you. 

It’s not like you meant to get addicted to porn. But Mingyu, unapologetic about his line of work, practically served it up on a silver platter for you. He says he could use all the help he could get, but frankly, he couldn’t have it more easy. 

With that body, that hair, that face, that smile, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d be a fan favorite and you were right. He’s now one of the rising adult content creators in his line of work, heavily acclaimed in the cam category and recently in independent film. That’s what his trip is about, awarding him for his hard work that he never thought he’d accomplish.

It fills you with pride, yet piques your curiosity; fusing platonic and sensual feelings that blur the lines between friendship and desire for Mingyu, actualizing this full fledged crush. But you’d never let him find that out. Not unless it was against your will.

“And that’s pretty much it. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory. I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday, hmm?” Your eyebrows bounce in place suggestively. “Thinking of pursuing personal projects while working?”

He shrugs like a timid schoolboy, cheekbones pigmented and perky like bright ripe cherries. “No promises—Now, repeat back to me everything I’ve told you to do.”

You playfully roll your eyes, offended he had the gall to doubt you. “Water each green buddy once a day; keep crumbs off tables, counters, furniture, etc; put everything back where it should be; and,” you start to grin, “no sex parties, even though this is the perfect place for it.”

“Okay, that last one was obviously a joke but very much serious. Although tempting, under any circumstances, do not fuck anyone in this house while I’m gone.”

“So circumstances would be different if you were home?”

Getting a shade brighter in red, he points a demanding finger at you like a stern mother, “I mean it.”

“Yes, mom,” sarcasm coating your tongue.

“Good.”

Mingyu, armed with a suitcase containing all his essentials, casually waves you off. There's a playful authority in the final point of his finger, a silent reminder to behave before he disappears behind the imposing door.

You promise him you’ll do your due diligence in taking care of his home, and that would be an easy enough task, the real problem stems from the temptation of one specific room. Mingyu’s cam room.

Distinct from the usual rooms such as the bathroom, Mingyu's kitchen, and his primary bedroom, this space stands alone, akin to an office. Mingyu himself has shared its origin story: starting from the sweetest of riddances of a god-awful roommate, followed by many desperate nights to cover the remaining monthly rent, ultimately giving birth to this room that many of his fans like to call ‘Sinner’s Safehaven.’ So rightfully acclaimed.

You’re a fan of yourself, able to outline the bedroom from memory and recollect every toy from every live stream he’s ever posted. Unable to resist the temptation, your feet instinctively embark on a self-guided tour. Your eyes are bewitched by the intricacies of every weapon of pleasure, every scent of his array of miscellaneous liquids, every phallic-shaped object that stands tall and mighty like a national monument.

It’d be a lie to say you weren’t tempted to take advantage of the opportunity, maybe just to get the sick idea out of the way. Your hands manage to find a mind of their own, reaching over to unlock one of the glass displays, wrapping your hand around the object’s girth, and taking it out from its confinement for a closer view.

A stunning crystal toy that reflects off the lights of the room, looking in pristine condition as if fresh from packaging. If Mingyu is good at one thing it’s maintaining his tools, and he does not let anyone forget.

Ever since he showcased it on screen, you've desired to covet one just like it, inducing a late-night web surf to discover the outrageous out-of-reach prices for a product of such exceptional quality and aesthetic appeal. It does not look to be in the cards for you to own one, but borrowing wouldn’t be a problem. He did say everything only needed to be put back in place and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Following the devilish voice whispering in your ear, you slip into something more comfortable, letting the well-conditioned air blow a draft against your bare legs. You hold the toy excitedly before dipping your weight in the bed, the silk sheets and pillowy cushion embracing you at all sides.

The knowledge that the infamous crystal dildo is in your hand makes your heart pound and pussy throb. You can count all the videos of it being featured with one hand, and despite it all, you know it had to be Mingyu's favorite. 

One particular video comes to mind as you hold the tip against your inner thigh, moving it identical to the way Mingyu held it against him, realizing they are coincidentally the same length, same girth, and same tantalizing presence. You practically dreamed of having him and this toy inside of you for months after that show and now half of that dream would be possible.

Your fingers didn’t have to be inside you to know you’re wet, practically soaked through your panties the moment you laid eyes of Mingyu and his sex room. Fuck, if you aren’t so damn ashamed of the truth of your feelings, you’d never let him out of your sight. 

A long note of your moan exhales as you insert the tip between your wet folds, introducing the strangest yet arousing thing to be done to you. It’s certainly big as you expect it to be, maybe even more as you plunge it in deeper. Affirmations exit your lips in short bursts, your other hand up your shirt as they tease your nipples through your bra.

Your legs crutch in reaction to its ridged shape massaging your walls, then the cool hard surface finds that familiar hotspot, unfortunately only halfway down its length. Your cheeks flush imagining Mingyu’s face, imagining the words to come out of those lips if it were his cock.

‘Already? I haven’t even put it all in yet.’

It fuels your determination, deadset in taking all of it—all of him.

‘You can do it, can't you? You can take my cock for me?’

Somewhere, lost in the contagious air of sex and starvation, your mind runs rampant. Your hips buck into the crystal, letting it settle inside you all the way before you thrust it harder. You hiss at its size, expelling a moan once you no longer feel its shaft around your fingers and just take it, take it as if it a canine smile were on the other end.

‘So good…so good at taking all of my cock.’

“I am being good,” you mumble under your breath. “So good...”

Your whimpers go unnoticed by you, only worried of the dildo carrying on its mission. Sensation running down your legs and arms, and your hips hover over the mattress. Your back arches and you spell his name out in the only way the body fully intends you to: in longing breaths, “Mingyu…please…”

‘What? What is it?’

You groan at the image of his smile. “Let me cum please…”

‘Do you deserve it?’

“Yes, Gyu, please…” You thrust faster. “Oh my god—“

‘Yes, that’s it. That pretty pussy should cum all over my hard fucking cock.’

“Yes, yes!” Your arousal seeps all around you, a visible stain beneath your thighs and you don’t care. “God, right there! Right there—“

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Then it becomes no longer your imagination. The voice you’ve created in your mind had an echo, lingering in the depths of your filth rotted head, but the one you just heard had to be the original.

You scramble to hide under the sheets, eyes as big as saucers as the man of your fantasy stands clear in your reality at the foot of his bedroom. “M-Mingyu. The train.”

“I forgot some things. Couldn’t leave without them, so I told the driver to turn back.” He peers over your situation, intrigued by your legs folded on top of one another beneath the covers, the proof trepidation of your forehead, and your lips swollen from instinctive biting. “What do we have here?”

You laugh nervously, unprepared for the shitshow soon to arise. “I see how this looks—“

“Looks like you’ve had a bit of fun.” He huffs with his arms crossed as he approaches, the human made stain plain in sight on his bed sheets which you’ve fail to cover up. “Too much maybe. And all by yourself.”

“Well, you see—“

“And the mess you made.” His hand pushes against the mattress, leaning over to your side and drinking in your view. “All over my bed. All over my Crystal dildo.”

You avoid his gaze, wishing to disappear in a cloud of smoke right about now. “Okay. You can understand how this would bother you.”

“Oh I’m not bothered by it—not in the slightest—but…you could’ve at least waited until I came back.”

Mingyu pulls the sheets off of you and he exposes your guilt, seeing it in its raw, glistening glory. His eyes scan over you, swallowing at that scent revealed, and a fire lights up in his stomach. “Dirty little pervert can’t stop saying my name while using my toy, hmm? Don’t you know better to touch things that don’t belong to you?”

“I…I…I’m sorry,” You squeak.

“Well, I can’t just let this go now, can I?”

You shake your head, breathing through your nose. You’re scared of him hearing how fast your heart has decided to pound, how wet you’ve become well after your orgasm, and how dry your throat is after you heard him call you a pervert. 

Wordlessly, he takes the glass dildo from your fingertips, claiming what’s rightfully his, and plunging between his lips halfway down its shaft. Your eyes capture it in full color, reveling in the moan that slips past his lips. Your chest rises and falls watching him take it deeper almost effortlessly as his slack cladded knees dip into the mattress. 

“Mmh…who knew a pervert’s pussy could taste so sweet,” he mumbles, smiling into the toy. It leaves his mouth with a pop before it aims back at you. “Taste it. Taste how sweet your dirty pussy is all over my cock.”

Your stomach coils, reluctantly obliging to crack open your mouth. Mingyu hums, content with what he sees as he eases the toy towards your mouth. “Don’t be shy. Take my crystal cock, perv.”

Your lips wrap around the head, tasting the salty, faintly sweet, flavor lingering on the glass before it travels past your lips.You look back at him, almost as if waiting for his instruction, and receive a stroke on the back of your head as a response. 

“That’s it. Let it go deep down your throat. Have to make up for ruining my bed, right?”

You nod, unable to speak as you bob down, licking up what you can and collecting every inch of the toy. His eyes become a dark pit that stares back at you, dominance taking over his entire presence. He doesn’t speak, only watches and for what feels like forever, pushing the toy in and out of your mouth.

Your muffle around its girth, tears starting to brim your eyes as it hits the back of your throat, but it doesn’t falter Mingyu in the slightest.

"You're crying. Does it hurt?" Mingyu asks in a domineering tone, to which you nod. "Do you want me to stop?" he inquires, to which you shake your head.

His lips graze your ear, and you sense his charming smile whispering against your skin as he replaces the imaginary devilish voice with his very real and alluring one. “Then deep throat it like you mean it, you fucking slut.”

Your lips parted wider, a shattered moan aches out, only to have the toy stuck down your throat long enough for your tears to sting. Gasping for air, Mingyu finally shows mercy and unplug your airways. Coughing uncontrollably, salvia dribbles down your chin as you retrieve your stolen oxygen. His hand tenderly caresses at the back of your head, threading through the tangles of your hair.

“Good job,” he says in a hushed voice, picking your face up by your chin. “Now. Do you think that was an appropriate punishment?”

He tucks your hair behind your ear, lethally silent as he anticipates your response.

It takes you a moment to realize where you are, who you're with, and what this all meant for you. Mingyu’s cam persona has haunted your inner thoughts, degrading you as if you were scum, tossing your body like a rag doll, marking and bruising your skin only he would find, and you relished in every earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm it’s caused. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.

“N-no. It’s not enough.”

“Is that so,” He questions amused. Slowly, his hand travels from your hair to your face, tracing your jaw in a languid movement and coming across your neck to size it in his large hand. “What will be enough for you exactly?”

The pad of his fingers presses the slightest amount of pressure on the column of your neck, emerging a gasp so soft Mingyu almost doesn't register it. He grins, hot breath fanning your face as he watches your legs squirm. It comes as a surprise to you when he single-handedly pins your body against the bed frame, leveraging you against it before he comes down and faces your pussy drowning its own cum. 

“I should at least have compensation done for the damage you’ve made, don’t you think?”

He grips your neck a fraction tighter before you feel his mouth make contact with your core. Physically vibrating, you feel the sensation of his tongue flicking at your clit, and visibly melt before he explores down. “You’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles condescendingly through your arousal. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re wet because of me, as if the screaming of my name wasn’t proof enough.”

“Mingyu...” you whine through your ceased breath.

“And you sound so pretty when you say my name too,” He groans as inhales your scent that blurs his surroundings, devouring you inside and out. “Fucking tease…taste so damn good.”

Mingyu’s chokehold loosens to cascade down your body, fingers moving like ribbons tracing your shape and memorizing every bump and curve through the thin layer of your shirt. Your voice gives out, clenching your fists as he explores you in swirls, moisture seeping out of your cunt but never ending and leaving you in an endless loop of pleasure.

He holds you up by your legs, your thighs crushing either side of his face as he buries himself in your insatiable pussy while its dripping down his chin and neck. He groans inside you, mustering every impish sound possible as he eats you clean, not minding how you’re at the end of your wits locking his head in place.

“G-gyu, shit,” you sputter. “I’m c-close.”

He simply scoffs, “Good,” plunging his tongue deeper, nose pushing against your swollen clit. Words stay lodged down your throat, trapped from escaping as you writhe in his grip and he swallows the taste of you succumbing to his control. You aren’t aware of the eyes watching every second of you give in, how they beam with pride and greed as he goes for more. The notes of fruit and musk only makes Mingyu’s craving intensify, unwilling to surrender the sweet nectar once he’s gotten his taste. 

With a yelp, he drops your legs and tugs you toward him, rendering you defenseless as he's clamped either of your side. You drink in his body towering over you as he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and off his body, bestowing you a deific image that you never grow tired of.

“Shall I help you undress?” He offers, kindly for once.

You drop your head in a reluctant nod and your heart swells at the sight of his smile before they capture your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Mingyu’s movement isn’t needy, it’s efficient and effective. Salty peppermint kisses and hands that move gingerly with ease culminate proof of a man that has countless amounts of partners and endless experience. Almost as if he’s ready for any and every given opportunity and you more than believe it.

Seeing as he knows how to handle himself, undoubtedly that meant he’d know how to handle you. That rouses you, anticipation resonating in the pit of your stomach, and like that, you’ve embraced your nudity just as Mingyu has in the safety of his firm arms.

He manages to kick off his pants, freeing him of the restraint of fabric and his hips dip into yours. And again and again. And again and again. Just to show you what you’ve created in your messy experiment. 

If you weren’t already hot under his touch, you swear the room was hotter than any vast desert. Perspiration sprayed against your back, your forehead, your chest, but strangely you’re obsessed with his and the incidentally salty taste of his skin as you kiss. “You feel huge,” you mutter in a flustered breath. 

His cock pulsates through his briefs against your thigh, screaming to join the party and make himself known in ways he hasn’t shown yet. Not yet with you. He smiles against your lips, grasping your hips more firmly. More definitely. “It’s too soon to be saying that.”

“Then…” Your fingers, tantalized by the appearance of his styled hair, didn’t resist the urge to comb through it, pleasantly surprised with the silky, pliable sensation. “I hope I get to soon.”

“Pervert,” he repeats with a grin. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it away from his head and landing on the hem of his underwear. Mingyu is good at getting back on track as he immediately pulls his waistband away from torso, springing his cock that stands in your direction in determination. A familiar yet foreign sight that you never expected to be on the other end of. “By the way, don’t forget. You’re making it up to me. Not the other way around.”

Naturally, your hand finds the ridged texture of his shaft. “Yes, of course.” You feel it twitch under his touch, growing as a nail trails up a singular vein. “But I never said I’d make that easy.”

“Really? A sentence where ‘you’ and ‘easy’ just seems to fit.”

You sneer at him, calming down after seeing an amicable jab you’re used to. “You’re one to talk.”

“And I won’t be done talking. On your knees,” He demands.

“Or what?”

Mingyu isn’t new to your taunting but he can't help the steam coming out of his ears this time around. Gathering your weight, he swiftly turns you on your stomach and props you up as his cock settles between the cheeks of your ass. “I’ll do things like that. I’m patient until I’m not. Not when it comes to perverted brats like you.”

You voluntarily moan as you back into him, allowing the cock to slide up and down. “I’d like to see it. Unless you’re all talk.”

A familiar coolness of glass finds itself home in your sopping cunt. You mewl at the sensation, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. The side of your head braces for the bed and letting the toy suction your pussy, buzzing . “Fuck…”

“Spoke to soon, didn’t you?”

“Have—fuck—mercy…” Your words speak like pleads but your body could not be more delightful in taking every inch, adjusting from the backside in record time.

“See? Look at you take all that cock,” he spits in the smack center, rubbing around your rim and pussy thoroughly. “And knowing you and our conversations, I know you can take it well somewhere else. Isn’t that right?”

“Y-you wouldn’t…”

“I can. Unless…that’s not what you want. Unless you want me to leave this room without putting my cock in you and not fuck you like the dirty fucking slut you are.”

“Fuck…you…” The glass vanished through you, reappearing at Mingyu's will, muffling your protests, and swallowing the glass dildo satisfyingly from your cunt. The bedsheets become balls in your hand, wrinkled and worn, just as you planned to be after Mingyu is through with you.

“That’s not an answer.” He teases, thrusting faster.

“Shit…fuck…Yes please fuck, I want it. I want more. Please…”

“Excited are you, pervert?” He inquires, managing to grab the lube from a nearby drawer and squirt it on the ring of your hole. The bite of the cool gel stings in a way that’s familiar, but does not grow any easier as it physically and mentally preparing you.

“You…suck…Kim Mingyu…”

“I’ve already done that already, perv.”

Taking the crystal dildo out of your pussy, he carefully sets it aside, prepping your untouched hole for entry and feeling you clenched around his fingers. “So tight. What? Did you lie and you’re actually an anal virgin.”

“I’m not,” you moan in defense, hearing the erotic squelching burns your ears and makes your already hot skin scorching to the touch. His fingers are tolerable, but still bigger you’re used to and it’s more apparent as he inserts another finger. “I just never had anything that big. Nothing your size.”

“I’m honored.”

You hope that his cock could fuck you the way his fingers does, if not then better, already buzzing at the pace they move inside you, stretching you wider and wider.

“F-fuck off.”

“Not yet. It’s coming.” You feel the head of the dildo perk up your rim as it eases in you, the drip of lube between your cheeks drowning your hole and all the moisture it could ask for. Still, Mingyu is careful to adjust to your preference, opening you up and seeing how the toy slowly destroys you inside and out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your hands slam against the bed, allowing the gradual introduction to take over all your senses. 

“You’re taking the cock so well up your ass, fuck. I haven’t seen anyone do that yet. Remember you talking about it, made curious if you actually could.”

“I don’t lie…about stuff…like that…” you spread your ass, offering the perfectly lewd view for Mingyu, practically dripping all for him.

“Shit, I need to be inside you.”

He rolls a condom on his length, tossing the wrapper where he doesn’t see it and teases your slit moist in your cum. In the midst of it, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing your clit, and your whine ensue as you wait for more, not properly being used to the full advantage. Mingyu laughs to himself, seeing how desperate you look, reveling in the sounds that leave your body as it fuels his cock before he plunges inside you.It's an indescribable sensation, almost sacrilegious in its intensity, yet it leaves you convinced that Heaven must reside wherever Mingyu is.

You thought you knew the meaning of being spit open until it’s Mingyu reintroducing the idea. His cock and toy planted  so deep inside you, fucking both of your holes until you’re rendered into like what he calls you, a perverted little slut. You don't mind in the slightest; in fact, when the thoughts swirling through your mind are nothing but incoherent, you're utterly indifferent to anything else. Your state of matter was to be fucked, double fucked, and fucked to ruin until you’ve come over and over again.

“Stupid slut…stupid…perverted…fucking slut…Look at you…you like getting fucked in the pussy and ass, hmm?”

“Yes god yes,” you confirm, devoid of words otherwise.

He smacks you full against the cheek, groaning into the sex thicken air as he melts into your body like butter. “Yeah? How does it make you feel?”

“Full…”

“You like that?” Another smack to your ass. “Fucking pervert likes being fucked full. Big fucking surprise.”

His thrusts grow rough, already annoyed by the toy in his hands when he’s eager to plant both on your body and fill the full extent of your body. “God you’re hot,” he mumbles, “Why does a pervert like you get to be so hot, hmm?” He rams into you, feeling you jump back against him.

“Makes me want to fucking drain my cock in you, but no, I have—“ he slams again, a burst of ache living your lips, “—Work! God, I fucking needed this. I needed you and every inch before I needed to leave.”

You’d respond if you weren’t so occupied. He drowns your thoughts out every second he’s inside you, to the point nothing else exists.

“Shit, I have work,” Mingyu repeats as if dawning the thought for the first time. He lets go of the toy and manages to direct it with his thrusts, moving him and the toy into you at the same pace. You scream at him, shattered breaths taking over you, and his name is the only consistent, as you spread yourself wider to take it, left with only the base of the toy and the end of Mingyu’s shaft.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine incessantly, shaking and bucking into him until you cum all over his cock, undoubtedly flooding and dripping down the side of your legs.

But Mingyu takes his time and it tastes sweeter than any candy, fucking your pussy and ass deeper, harder until his mind as gone as yours is. “Shit, shit, shit. Turn around and look at me.”

You do as told, dildo still in the pocket of your ass, as his cock is aimed at your lips, the condom abandoned just like its wrapper. His hands run in your hair, gripping from the root and he pushes you over the head of his cock, groaning as more pretty souvenir images appear for him to look back on. “Look at you. Good at taking cock there too?”

You nod, mumbling a confirmation before Mingyu penetrates deeper, noticing him lodged in you throat before bucking his hips in your mouth. “Then take it. Take all of my cum. Can’t leave another mess behind.”

Wide eyes of mischief look back at him, holding him by the back of his cock as you bob against him. He grips tighter to the back of his head, pulling and tugging as your hair become the size of his fists and you feel him hit the back of your throat. He now sees the white of your eyes, the flare of your nostrils, the quiver of jaw before it overwhelms him.

“Fuck, take it.” The load builds up to its full intensity, intoxicating him until theirs tears even in his eyes, the kind that supersedes one of joy. 

You hold his hips with both spread hands, welcoming his release with closed eyes. Your mouth gets flooded, blown up so full you’re close to choking, gagging from the contents dispersed in you.

“Take it,” Mingyu says fatigued. “You don’t have to swallow it, but take it.”

But you do swallow it, what you could anyway, and it’s inevitable that you’re a coughing mess when you unlatch from him, dribbling in a concoction of your bodily fluids and cum running along your torso, cunt, and legs.

“Okay,” Mingyu pants, “Now I really need to get to that train.”

You’re catching your breath as he cleans himself off with wet paper towels he had on hands, cleaning off the work of his cock but leaving the rest of him untouched. It’s fine, however, seeing as he glows with an air of lust, making him more charismatic than he normally did, and you’re brimming with pride knowing you’ve caused it. “I’m surprised you have that much energy off camera.”

“It helps, that it’s you.” He timidly admits, raising the temperature in your body. “And who said we’re off camera.” He points to the security camera at the corner of his room, reminding you too late that he’s used to using more than one camera to capture any and all angles. “I even forgot about it for a second.”

“Oh.”

“I can delete it if you want.”

“No it’s okay, but um….Send me a copy.”

[trustmypoison]

SVT and Jealousy

Requested? Yes!

Requests: "seventeen reaction to their partner being jealous" and "seventeen getting jealous over their partner? could be because someone’s flirting with their partner or maybe their partner is spending more time with a coworker or classmate to complete a project"

A/N: this one was a bit of a doozy since I decided to address both requests in one go.

A/N #2: This is the new and improved version which includes all of the members. Thank you to the person that let me know that one was missing. I'm not sure if reblogs that are already out there will contain this fix, but just an FYI.

Seungcheol

When he’s jealous: everyone saw this coming. It takes very little for him to be like, “hmm, that person is too close” or “that person’s talking to you too much”. Might insert him into the conversation both verbally and physically in a way that screams that you’re taken. Sometimes you’ll roll your eyes about it and call him a big baby, but sometimes you might have to have a serious conversation about whether he trusts you or not. Will still want to make it apparent that you’re taken even if it’s not super aggressive, so that’s kind of a non-negotiable here, I fear. 

When you’re jealous: oddly, I think he’d be confused by this. Not because he doesn’t understand jealousy, but because he feels there’s no reason. He’s so unapologetically into you that he’s totally lost when you say someone was too close to him or talking to him too much. You’ll have to equate your jealousy to his own for him to ever get it - you know, the typical “would you like it if I did that?” He would not. 

Jeonghan

When he’s jealous: such a rarity. He’s pretty secure in general, I think, so on a typical day it never occurs to him to be jealous. But I think if there were someone that you’re closer with or have a deeper history with (like a close friend that seems to blur lines or an ex that you still see from time to time), he might feel a little jealousy stir. SUPER passive aggressive if he’s ever feeling this way. You’ll leave an interaction and have to be like “what the hell was that???” Will never admit to said jealousy. 

When you’re jealous: he actually wants you to be a little jealous. Starting to sound like a potential red flag, but hear me out. Won’t do anything crazy, but might not shut down a conversation that he recognizes as a tad too friendly right away, only to watch how you react. I believe he’d do this to reassure himself that you care. If you tell him something like that really bothers you, then I think he’d stop though. 

Joshua

When he’s jealous: this absolutely manifests as insecurity. If you talk a little too much about one of your coworkers, it might make him think about what that coworker has that he doesn’t. Might not ever admit to the jealousy itself, but will certainly ask for a little extra reassurance when he’s feeling like this. 'Do you still love me?' 'Are you happy with our relationship?' 'Are there things I could do to make you happier?' Put this sweet, sweet man out of his misery. 

When you’re jealous: oh, he never means for this to happen, I promise. He wants you to feel secure in the relationship, the same way he wants security himself. But he’s so friendly sometimes that both you and everyone else might misread it as something else. If you tell him you were bothered by something, he’ll make a real effort to eliminate the possibility of that happening again, but it is what it is sometimes. 

Jun

When he’s jealous: it’s obvious because he clams up. Will give very brief answers with a little furrow in his eyebrows until you finally ask him if he’s alright and he falls apart. “Do you even love me anymore?!?” The drama!! You’ll have to press for specifics about what made him feel this way so you can avoid it in the future. At the very least, reassure this big baby that you still love him. 

When you’re jealous: smug for only a moment. Quite literally a single second. He doesn’t like the idea that you doubt his love, just like you wouldn’t like it when he doubts yours. So he’ll be more cognizant in future interactions and if something can’t be helped, he’s reassuring you right away that it wasn’t what you might think. 

Hoshi

When he’s jealous: so pouty and sulky. Where as Jun might bite his tongue for a little bit, I don’t think Soonyoung would. He’ll let you know right away that he doesn’t like this person and might even beg you to put some serious distance between you and them. Another big baby to reassure, but he’s really just nervous that you might not like him as much as he thought. 

When you’re jealous: huge question mark floating above his head. Then when it clicks, he’s quick to assure you it’s nothing like that and you have nothing to worry about. Will lay it on thick just because he wants you to understand how into you he is. Will freely admit that there’s not a single thought in his head besides you a lot of the time. What you don’t know is that that conversation you saw across the room consisted of ‘my partner’ this and ‘my partner’ that. 

Wonwoo

When he’s jealous: will never say it. He’s a lock box when it comes to this. If you do manage to pry this out of him, I think it won’t manifest in words as much as it would in actions in the bedroom. Would not be super possessive in public, but will want the reassurance that only he can do that and see you like that, you know? 

When you’re jealous: smug for a moment as well, before he’s putting your mind at ease right away. Even if he won’t say when he’s jealous, he’ll tell you exactly what he thinks of that person that was just a little too close to him for your liking, even or rather especially if it’s mean. This might also manifest in the bedroom if only because he’s just not a man of many words. 

Woozi

When he’s jealous: will become pretty irritable about it. When you leave this event, he’s snippy and seems annoyed with everything you say. This honestly might lead to a little bit of a fight and it might take some time to reassure him on where you stand. Really just wants to know that you’re his as much as he’s yours but won’t feel like he can come right out and say that. 

When you’re jealous: totally lost. He works with a ton of artists, but why is it an issue now? If you say it’s because you’re sure this person is into him what with the messages that have been going back and forth, he’ll flat out say he doesn’t care about this other person. Would be pretty intentional about drawing boundaries with this person from then on because he trusts that you’re seeing something real there. 

DK

When he’s jealous: oh boy. How can he draw attention to himself immediately? If his big personality doesn’t work, then he’ll resort to making it apparent that you’re taken, probably by just coming over and introducing himself as your boyfriend. If you raise an eyebrow at him about it later, he’ll shrug. “What, am I not?” Never mind that he’s praying that you agree and he didn't somehow miss an entire breakup. 

When you’re jealous: much like Joshua, he’s perhaps a little too friendly for his own good. Totally oblivious about the other person’s intentions until it’s a little too late. The moment this person tries to touch him or say something flirty, he’s dragging you over to him, saying “hey, have you met my partner that I’m super in love with???” Not subtle at all and will not let you linger on those sort of thoughts. 

Mingyu

When he’s jealous: Another one that could be a bit intense in making sure someone understands you’re taken. Like s.coups, it takes very little for him to get to this point. Talk about clingy anytime, but specifically in this situation. Doesn’t even have to say anything because he's already hanging all over you, but trust me he will. It’s ‘baby’ this and ‘love of my life’ that when he inserts himself into the conversation. Totally good once your attention is back on him, so another of the big baby club.

When you’re jealous: A natural flirt and absolutely won’t mean it. I picture that you will have to be just as aggressive as he is when he’s jealous for him to get that he’s letting a few too many little comments or touches slide. But he wants you to cling to him too, so while I don’t think he’d go out of his way to make you jealous necessarily, he doesn’t hate it if you are. 

Minghao

When he’s jealous: ooo another passive aggressive one. After about the fifth snippy comment, you’re pulling him off to the side to ask what his deal is. “That person is my deal. They’re coming on to you.” No matter whether you realized it or not, if you say something like “so? I want you, not them,” he’ll just do a little ‘oh’ and let it go. 

When you’re jealous: I’ll be honest, I think he’d be able to read the other person’s intentions and will never let it progress to something that could make you jealous if he can help it. But sometimes he can’t help it because it’s work related and he has to be friendly in front of cameras etc., so he’ll be quick to remind you of the same thing you tell him - that he wants you, not them.

Seungkwan

When he’s jealous: so damn snarky. This person will know that Seungkwan doesn’t like them. You’ll know Seungkwan doesn’t like them. Everyone will know Seungkwan doesn’t like them. You or someone else might have to even tell him to lay off a bit. That snark might be directed at you too, and you’ll have to wait until he’s ready to really talk about it before you understand the issue. 

When you’re jealous: another one that the friendliness will get the best of him some times. He’s such a social butterfly, and to some extent you might have to accept it. Still, he doesn’t want to make you feel insecure about the relationship, so whether you’re around or not, he’s talking fondly of you to let others know he’s happily taken. 

Vernon

When he’s jealous: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he’s not that aloof!!! Totally recognizes when someone’s coming on to you, but I don’t think it’s in his nature to act jealously. He sits back and watches, will maybe be a little uncomfortable, but you genuinely may never know that he feels that way. Feels better quite literally as soon as your attention is on him again. That’s actually all the reassurance he needs. 

When you’re jealous: now I have to admit…. This might be where he’s a tiny bit aloof. May not recognize that someone’s hitting on him, like, ever. At least not until someone else mentions it. This might be tough at first, because he wants to recognize when this is happening to put a stop to it for you, but usually doesn’t realize until it’s far too late. Eventually, he’ll realize he can just casually mention you at the top of the conversation to imply he’s taken. He might even let himself look a little lovesick too for good measure. 

Chan

When he’s jealous: retreats into himself and sulks. When you find him later, he might say something snarky like “where’s your friend?” Please shrug and say I don’t know so he can breathe for a minute about the fact that you don’t seem to care about that person. Might need extra reassurance here and there to feel secure about situations like this because, like I’ve said for others, he wants to know your his as much as he’s yours. 

When you’re jealous: another one that’s sometimes too friendly for their own good. But he’s perceptive about it and when he realizes how you might take it, particularly if you’re showing signs of being jealous, he’s quick to abandon this person and smother you with affection until you get it. I mean, squishing your cheeks, kissing you, and loudly telling you he loves you and only you, regardless of how public the setting might be. Will lay it on thick because he doesn’t want you to have any doubts.

[nomie-11]

Red Lipstick Stains

masterlist!

synopsis: despite you being late for work, vi didn't mind messing up your perfect red lipstick

pairing: vi x reader

Vi knew she shouldn’t bother you when you were getting ready in the morning. 

You liked your space before you left for work or whatever errands you had to run for the day, and she knew that, but the red lipstick you wore drove her crazy. 

Leaning on the doorframe of the tiny bathroom the two of you shared in a small but cozy apartment in Zaun, Vi resolved to just watch you expertly swipe the dark red lipstick across your upper lip, then your lower lip, before dragging your nail underneath your lip line to clean the edge. 

God, it made her pulse race. She wanted nothing more than to ruin your pretty lipstick. She hated the fact that you had actual shifts at your job—even if she was grateful that you were just a bartender (at her dad’s bar no less, thank you Vander)—because that meant you had a stable job and didn’t need to fight in the pits like she did. It also meant you had to get to work on time. 

But Vi had never been good at resisting temptation, especially when it came to you. 

“That color looks dangerous,” she teased, her voice low and gravelly as she stepped into the bathroom, crowding you against the sink. Her hands found their familiar place at your waist, her fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of your  shirt. “Almost as dangerous as the person wearing it.”

You rolled your eyes at her in the mirror, though the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. “Vi, I don’t have time for this. My shift starts in twenty minutes.”

“Then you shouldn’t look so damn good,” she muttered, kissing the edge of your jaw, her lips brushing against the skin just below your carefully applied lipstick. “Makes it impossible for me to let you leave without getting a proper goodbye.” 

Her lips trailed lower, finding the spot just beneath your ear that always made you shiver. You tried to fight it, you really did, but the soft hitch of your breath gave you away. Vi grinned against your skin, clearly pleased with herself. 

“Vi,” you warned, though your voice lacked any real conviction. “I’m serious. I can’t be late again or Vander’s going to have my head.” 

She hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t move away. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, her pink hair brushing against your cheek as she murmured into your ear; “Vander’ll understand. I’ll tell him I couldn’t let you leave looking this good without leaving my mark first.” 

You barely had time to process her words before she pressed her lips to yours. The kiss was fervent, claiming, and utterly unapologetic. You could feel the smudge of your lipstick mixing between you, and you knew without a doubt that it was ruined. But in that moment, with Vi’s hands tightening on your waist and her lips making you forget about everything else, you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. 

Her lips trailed down, teeth grazing the lower edge of your jaw as a soft sigh escaped past your lips. “Vi—” you mumbled. “Are you really going to call Vander again and tell him I’m sick?”

“Mhm,” she breathed, her words hot against the curve of your neck. “I’m gonna call him and tell him you’re sick for the next two weeks, and he’s just going to have to deal with it.” Vi chuckled against your skin, her lips forming a grin that you could practically feel. “Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know what’s going on. The old man’s sharp. He probably already expects it.”

You groaned, half in frustration and half in surrender, as your hands moved to her shoulders, attempting to push her away—not that you were trying very hard. “He thinks I’m pregnant—won’t let me near a drop of alcohol.”

At that, Vi snorted, her lips moving upwards once more to kiss you again, lipstick now trailing from your lips to the curve of your bare shoulders and even on the strap of your black tank top. “Maybe we should try, give him what he wants.” 

You smiled into her kiss, your tongue tracing the plush skin of her lower lip. “We’re lesbians, love.” You broke away, tilting your head to take a glance at the damage in the mirror. “And I really have to go to work, so you need to let me get this lipstick off of my entire neck.” 

“Aw, no…” She whined, but still let you grab a makeup wipe and remove the stains of your red lipstick. When you were finished cleaning up, she reluctantly handed you your tube of lipstick and watched as you applied it once more, sending her a wink in the mirror. 

You capped the lipstick with a satisfying click and turned to face Vi, giving her an exaggerated look of mock sternness. “Alright, I’m officially running late now, and if Vander asks why, I’m telling him it’s because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

Vi smirked, leaning lazily against the doorframe once more, her eyes never leaving yours. “He’ll just say, ‘That’s my girl,’ and send you on your way.” She crossed her arms, looking far too smug for her own good. “You know he likes me.” 

“Only because he has to,” you shot back, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. You moved toward the door, but not before stopping in front of her. “And Vi, please…” you hesitated, your voice softening as your eyes met hers. “Don’t be too reckless in your matches tonight, okay? I need you coming home to me in one piece.” 

Vi’s smirk faltered just slightly, her expression softening. “You know me, babe. I’ll be fine.” 

You gave her a pointed look. “That’s what worries me.” 

She chuckled, stepping forward to cup your face gently in her calloused hands. “I promise,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I’ll be careful.” 

Satisfied for the moment, you gave her a small smile and turned to leabe. But just as your hand reached the doorknob, Vi tugged you back by the wrist. Before you could protest, she kissed you one last time—a deep, lingering kiss that left your heart racing all over again. 

When she pulled away, her lips were curled in that same mischievous grin you knew all too well. “Whoops, guess I smudged it again,” she teased, brushing her thumb over the faint smear of red that had messed up the outline of your perfect lips. 

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you wiped at your lips with the back of your hand. “You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head as you finally made your way out the door. 

“I love you!” she called after you, her voice echoing through the hallway. 

You couldn’t help but grin as you turned the corner, muttering to yourself, “I love you too, idiot.” 

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[paarksunghoon]

I NEED a part 2 to the best friend jay sleepover PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

part 2 of this

***

It’s kind of crazy how Jay can’t stop thinking about you ever since you let him stick his fingers inside of you. It’s crazier than you’re letting him fuck you in the bed he’s slept in (innocently) so many times before.

Jay’s stamina is wild and insane. That’s all you can think about as your legs dangle from beside him while his hips work ferociously to pound in and out of you at a pace that makes you wonder if he goes to the gym just for this.

“So tight,” he chokes, shoving his face in your neck as he squeezes his eyes shut. You feel so warm around him. Given that he’s made you come twice on his cock alone, the slip feels incredible. “I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Please.” Your voice is hoarse and dry from the string of moans coming from your throat. He feels you pull his naked body closer to yours and his cock twitches.

He pulls himself from you and pushes his palms on the mattress beside your head before plowing his hips in and out of your hole. Jay loves when you get unapologetically loud like you are right now with your tits bouncing from the sheer force of his movements. It’s enough to make him pull out and finish all over your core. He lets his tip rest against your folds and watches his cock twitch with every rope that comes out of him.

Tomorrow. He’ll ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow.