#i see that one hair strand in my dreams and its the first thought in my mind when i wake up in the morning

[balladofthe101st]

a moment of silence for this look on george luz. you are missed and loved

[w1w2]

The Art of Confessing

Karina x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 7k

Synopsis: Y/N finds herself inspired by her friend Karina. As their bond deepens, Y/N faces the ultimate decision to reveal her heart through her work.

Notes: Here's a little something I promised to celebrate 100 followers! Thank you so, so much for all the support babes! Also, I might have a thing for rooftops and balconies since I'm using these places quite often. Oops.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The soft hum of a vinyl record filled the air, its crackling warmth wrapping the room like a comforting blanket. Y/N sat cross legged on the floor of her cozy apartment, a cup of chamomile tea steaming beside her. Around her, the space was a kaleidoscope of creativity, canvases leaned against the walls, some finished, others abandoned midway, each capturing fleeting glimpses of her innermost thoughts. Sketchbooks lay stacked haphazardly on the low wooden table, their pages bursting with pencil strokes, splashes of paint, and smudges that told the story of countless late-night bursts of inspiration.

Few knew about this side of her. As an idol, Y/N’s life was on constant display, each moment scrutinized by adoring fans and media alike. Yet this, the smell of paint, the quiet shuffle of brushes, was hers alone. It was her escape, her sanctuary.

That evening, the world outside her window shimmered with a thousand city lights, each one a tiny story flickering in the dark. Y/N traced her finger along the rim of her mug, her thoughts trailing back to the night before.

“Y/N, look at that!” Karina’s voice had been filled with awe as she pointed toward the horizon. They had sneaked away to a rooftop in the heart of the city, a rare pocket of freedom in their otherwise hectic schedules. The air had been crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming jasmine from a garden below.

Y/N turned her gaze to Karina, the lights casting a soft glow over her features. She looked breathtaking, like a dream painted in strokes of moonlight and stardust. Karina’s long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, her profile serene yet commanding as she gazed at the cityscape.

“You’re staring,” Karina had teased, her lips curling into that faint, knowing smile that never failed to make Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

“I was just… appreciating the view,” Y/N replied, her voice faltering slightly.

Karina chuckled, nudging her playfully. “You’re impossible.”

Yet in that moment, Y/N couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to have Karina in her life. Karina, with her grounded warmth and quiet strength, was a constant source of inspiration. She had an aura that drew people in, and yet, it was the quiet moments, like the one on the rooftop, that Y/N cherished most.

Now, back in her apartment, Y/N’s fingers hovered over her sketchbook, hesitant. The image of Karina bathed in city lights lingered vividly in her mind, and for the first time in a long while, she felt the urge to create something deeply personal.

She picked up a pencil and began to draw, her hand moving almost instinctively. The curve of Karina’s jaw, the gentle slope of her shoulders, the way her eyes seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, it all flowed onto the page. But as the sketch took form, Y/N’s heart raced with uncertainty.

Would Karina ever see this? Should she?

The doorbell rang, jolting Y/N from her thoughts. Her heart skipped as she glanced at the sketch in front of her, a delicate, unfinished portrait of Karina. Hastily, she grabbed a loose sheet of paper and slid it over the drawing, her cheeks flushing at the thought of someone, especially Karina, seeing it before she was ready.

Taking a calming breath, she headed to the door and swung it open. “Jimin!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and delight.

Karina stood there, casually radiant in an oversized hoodie and faded jeans. Her hair was tied into a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her face. The understated look only made her more striking, as if she didn’t need to try to shine. In one hand, she held a bag of takeout, and in the other, two bottles of sparkling water.

“Thought you might need a break,” Karina said, flashing a grin that sent a familiar flutter through Y/N’s chest. Without waiting for an invitation, Karina stepped inside, her presence immediately lighting up the room.

“You’re the best,” Y/N said, closing the door behind her.

Karina placed the bag on the coffee table and glanced around, her sharp eyes taking in the colorful clutter of Y/N’s apartment. Canvases leaned against walls, brushes sat soaking in jars, and scattered pencils seemed to tell the story of an artist’s whirlwind evening.

“You’ve been busy,” Karina remarked, gesturing toward the organized chaos with a tilt of her chin.

“Oh, that?” Y/N waved a hand, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just… messing around.” She prayed her nervousness wasn’t obvious.

Karina arched a brow, her expression both amused and curious. “Messing around, huh? You’ve got a whole gallery in here. You’re so talented, you know.” Her tone was sincere, her gaze lingering on Y/N as if trying to decipher a hidden secret. “I wish you’d share your work more often.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at the compliment, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe someday,” she murmured, her voice quiet.

They settled on the couch, the soft glow of the overhead light casting a warm ambiance over the room. As Karina unpacked the takeout, steaming boxes of stir-fry and dumplings, she filled the air with easy conversation. She talked about practice, the antics of her fellow members, and a particularly chaotic video shoot that had them all laughing until their stomachs hurt.

Y/N listened intently, her laughter joining Karina’s at the funny parts, her heart swelling at the sound of Karina’s melodic voice. Despite the chaos of their lives as idols, Karina always managed to bring a sense of calm and grounding, as if she were an anchor in the storm.

At one point, Karina reached for a napkin and accidentally knocked over a small box of charcoal pencils on the coffee table. They spilled onto the floor with a clatter.

“Oops!” Karina laughed, bending down to gather them.

“No, no, it’s fine!” Y/N said quickly, diving forward and snatching up the sheet of paper that concealed her sketch before Karina could notice.

Karina’s gaze flickered to the movement, her brows furrowing slightly. “What’s that?”

“Nothing!” Y/N blurted, clutching the paper against her chest. Realizing how suspicious she looked, she forced a chuckle. “Just some random doodles. You know, practice stuff.”

Karina studied her for a moment, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You’re acting weird, Y/N.”

“I’m not weird,” Y/N countered, her voice slightly higher than usual.

“Sure you’re not,” Karina said, her tone light but her eyes narrowing playfully. She reached out and lightly poked Y/N’s cheek. “Relax. I’m just messing with you.”

The exchange left Y/N flustered but relieved. Karina didn’t press further, though her curiosity lingered in the air like an unspoken question.

The evening continued, filled with shared laughter and moments of comfortable silence as they enjoyed their meal. Y/N found herself stealing glances at Karina, her mind racing with thoughts of the sketch hidden beneath her stack of papers.

When the clock struck eleven, Karina stretched and reached for her jacket. “I should head back. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“I won’t,” Y/N lied, already knowing she’d be awake for hours.

Karina smiled and leaned down, her face just inches from Y/N’s as she tied her sneakers. “You better not overwork yourself, miss artist,” she said, her voice soft but teasing.

Y/N’s breath caught, and she could only nod, her throat too tight to respond.

When the door clicked shut behind Karina, the apartment felt strangely empty, the warmth of her presence lingering in the air.

Y/N walked back to her desk and uncovered the sketch, her heart pounding as she studied the lines she’d drawn. This time, she didn’t hold back.

With each stroke of her pencil, she poured her admiration and feelings into the image, the way Karina’s eyes crinkled when she laughed, the softness in her expression when she was deep in thought, the strength she exuded even in her most relaxed moments. It all came alive on the page, vibrant and real.

As the first rays of dawn seeped through the curtains, Y/N set down her pencil, her fingers smudged with charcoal. She stared at the finished sketch, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and vulnerability.

It wasn’t just a drawing. It was a love letter, a silent confession written in graphite and paper.

Karina was her muse.

The days following that late-night sketch session felt like a whirlwind for Y/N. Her schedule was packed with rehearsals, performances, and photoshoots, leaving little time for anything else. Yet, despite the chaos, her mind kept drifting back to her secret project.

Every spare moment was stolen to work on it. Between practice breaks and after long days of filming, Y/N found herself sketching Karina again and again, her laughter, her focused expressions during dance practice, the softness in her eyes when she let her guard down.

But translating her emotions into her art proved to be more difficult than she’d imagined. Y/N wanted the portrait to capture more than just Karina’s beauty. She wanted it to hold the warmth of Karina’s laugh, the steadiness of her presence, and the way she made Y/N feel. Safe, inspired, and completely seen.

One evening, while sitting in the corner of her bedroom, Y/N stared at the half finished painting on the easel in front of her. The initial sketch had evolved into a vivid portrait, the details slowly coming to life under layers of paint. But something was missing.

She sighed, setting her brush down. “Why is this so hard?” she whispered to herself.

Her phone buzzed on the table beside her, pulling her attention away. It was Jimin. "Don’t forget, we’re rehearsing the collab choreography tomorrow morning.”

Y/N smiled, her frustration melting slightly. She typed back a quick confirmation before leaning back against the wall, her thoughts drifting.

The next day, the two groups gathered in a spacious practice studio, the mirrored walls reflecting their every movement. As the choreographer explained the sequence, Y/N found her attention slipping. Her gaze kept flickering toward Karina, who was listening intently, her brow furrowed in concentration.

When they began dancing, Karina moved like water, smooth and effortless. There was a quiet intensity in her every step, a confidence that made her impossible to look away from.

“Y/N, are you spacing out?” Ryujin’s voice cut through her thoughts, accompanied by a playful nudge.

Y/N blinked, realizing she had completely missed her cue. “Ah, sorry! Let’s go again.”

As they reset, Y/N noticed Karina watching her from the corner of her eye. Karina’s lips curved into a small, amused smile before she turned back to her position.

Y/N’s heart stuttered, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks burning.

Throughout the rest of the rehearsal, Y/N tried to focus, but Karina’s presence was like a gravitational pull. Every time they danced side by side or shared a fleeting glance, Y/N’s thoughts grew more tangled. By the time practice ended, she was thoroughly exhausted, not from the choreography, but from the effort of keeping her feelings in check.

Late that night, Y/N sat at her desk, sketching furiously. Karina’s focused expression from their joint practice earlier filled her mind. She could still see the determination in Karina’s eyes, the effortless grace in her movements. Y/N tried to capture that feeling on paper, but her hand faltered.

Letting out a groan, Y/N leaned back in her chair. “Why is this so hard?” she muttered, her voice cutting through the quiet room.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, and she glanced at the screen.

“Still awake?” Karina’s message read.

Y/N smiled, her frustration easing slightly. She typed back quickly, “Yeah, just working on some stuff. What about you?”

A few moments later, her phone buzzed again. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d check in.”

She laughed softly to herself, imagining Karina typing the message with her usual casual ease. Y/N replied, “You should rest. We’ve got another long rehearsal tomorrow.”

“Only if you rest too,” Karina shot back.

Y/N placed her phone face down on the table, the ghost of a smile still playing on her lips. Even through a screen, Karina had a way of making her feel warm and cared for.

The next day, the two groups gathered in the studio, the polished floors gleaming under the bright overhead lights. The sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the rhythmic beat of the backing track filled the air. The collaboration stage was shaping up to be something spectacular, but the pressure to make it flawless was mounting with each practice session.

Y/N stood in formation, her body moving instinctively to the choreography she had drilled into muscle memory. Yet her mind wandered, drawn to the figure a few feet away.

Karina’s intensity was captivating. Y/N found herself watching the way the light caught Karina’s profile, accentuating the curve of her jaw and the focused set of her lips. Her heart skipped as Karina tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and reset her position, her gaze sharp and unwavering.

“Y/N, focus!” Ryujin’s voice snapped her back to reality.

Startled, Y/N realized she had completely missed her cue. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she mumbled, “Sorry!” She quickly stepped back into position, her face burning with embarrassment.

The choreographer paused the track, clapping his hands together. “Reset from the top! Let’s clean up that transition.”

As everyone moved to their starting positions, Y/N felt a pair of eyes on her. She glanced up, and there was Karina, her lips curled into a faint smile. It wasn’t teasing or judgmental, just soft, almost amused, as if Karina could read the flustered jumble of thoughts in Y/N’s mind.

Y/N’s heart stuttered, and she quickly averted her gaze, willing herself to concentrate. She couldn’t afford to mess up again, especially not with Karina watching.

The music started again, and Y/N threw herself into the choreography with renewed determination. Yet, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t shake the image of Karina’s knowing smile, a lingering echo that stayed with her long after practice ended.

That evening, back in her apartment, Y/N stood in front of her half-finished painting. The day’s events replayed in her mind, the way Karina moved, the way she smiled, the way her presence seemed to fill every corner of the rehearsal studio.

The painting stared back at her, the lines bold yet incomplete, as if waiting for her to find the missing piece. The form was taking shape, the details slowly emerging under her brushstrokes, but it still felt unfinished. Y/N didn’t just want to capture Karina’s beauty, she wanted to capture everything that made Karina who she was. Her strength. Her warmth. Her quiet, vulnerable moments.

She picked up her brush, dipping it into a soft shade of brown, and began adding more detail to Karina’s eyes. But the more she painted, the more her thoughts spiraled. Was she even capable of doing this? Could she truly convey everything she felt without ruining it?

Doubt crept in, tightening her chest. Y/N sighed, setting the brush down for a moment. Her phone buzzed on the table, the sound breaking through the quiet hum of her apartment.

She picked it up and smiled at the message on the screen.

“Did you eat yet?”

Y/N laughed softly to herself, imagining Karina sitting in her dorm, texting her between her own bouts of exhaustion. She quickly typed back, “Not yet. Thinking of ordering something soon. You?”

The reply came almost instantly. “Same. Want to order together?”

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, her heart racing slightly. This was her chance to see Karina again outside of practice, to share a moment that was just theirs.

“Sure. Come over?” she finally wrote, her pulse quickening as she hit send.

Moments later, her phone lit up with Karina’s response. “On my way.”

Y/N exhaled, her heart still pounding. She looked around her apartment, suddenly self-conscious about the mess of paint brushes and canvases scattered everywhere. She quickly tidied up, covering the easel with a cloth and stacking her sketchbooks into a neat pile on her desk.

By the time the doorbell rang, she was ready, though her nerves still buzzed under the surface.

When Karina arrived, she was dressed casually in a hoodie and sweatpants, her face free of makeup but still radiant. She carried a bag of takeout in one hand and a playful grin on her face.

“Thought I’d save you the trouble of deciding,” Karina said, stepping inside.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Y/N replied, her nervousness masked by a wide smile.

They settled on the couch, the warm scent of food filling the apartment as they dug in. Conversation flowed easily, as it always did between them.

Karina glanced around the room between bites. Her eyes landed on the corner where Y/N’s easel stood, partially covered by a cloth. “You’ve been busy,” she remarked, gesturing toward the scattered art supplies.

“Just… experimenting,” Y/N said quickly, hoping her voice sounded casual.

Karina raised an eyebrow. “You’re so secretive about it. Can I see?”

“Nope!” Y/N blurted, perhaps too forcefully. “It’s not ready yet.”

Karina tilted her head, her teasing smile making a return. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know.”

Y/N felt her cheeks burn. “You’ll see it eventually. Just… not yet.”

Karina didn’t push further, though the curiosity lingered in her expression. “Fine. But now I’m intrigued.”

Later that night, after Karina left, Y/N stood in front of the painting. The interaction had left her more determined than ever to finish it. Every brushstroke felt like a piece of her heart being poured onto the canvas.

But as the painting neared completion, so did Y/N’s anxiety. What if Karina didn’t understand? What if this changed everything?

Desperate for advice, she called Ryujin, one of the few people she trusted with the truth.

“I’m painting Karina,” Y/N admitted, her voice trembling.

Ryujin’s reaction was immediate. “Oh my god, like painting painting? The romantic kind?”

“Yes,” Y/N whispered.

“Y/N, that’s huge.”

“I don’t know if I can tell her,” Y/N said. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if it ruins everything?”

As Y/N stared at the nearly finished piece later that night, her heart swelled with a mix of hope and fear. The time to reveal it was drawing near.

The days after Y/N’s confession to Ryujin felt heavier. Each time she looked at the painting, a wave of doubt rolled through her. The details were all there, the delicate curve of Karina’s smile, the warmth in her eyes, the quiet strength she carried in every movement. It was a masterpiece in Y/N’s eyes, but also a fragile piece of her heart.

Would Karina see it for what it was? Or would she feel uncomfortable, pressured by the unspoken feelings woven into every stroke?

Y/N shook her head, trying to brush the thoughts away as she flipped open her sketchbook. She wanted to clear her mind by sketching something simple, but her hand moved instinctively, and once again, she began to draw Karina.

The lines flowed easily, forming the familiar tilt of Karina’s head, the soft curve of her lips when she smiled. She was so lost in her work that she didn’t hear the door open.

“Y/N?”

Karina’s voice startled her, and she fumbled with the sketchbook, nearly dropping it.

“Oh, hey!” Y/N said, her voice a little too bright.

Karina raised an eyebrow as she walked further into the room, her expression curious. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing important,” Y/N replied quickly, snapping the sketchbook shut.

Karina wasn’t so easily deterred. With a playful grin, she reached out and gently tugged the book from Y/N’s hands. “Come on. You’ve never let me see anything.”

“Jimin, wait!” Y/N’s protests fell on deaf ears as Karina flipped to the page she’d been working on.

For a moment, Karina didn’t say anything, her eyes scanning the unfinished sketch. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her palms clammy as she waited for Karina’s reaction.

“This is…” Karina started, her voice soft. She glanced up at Y/N, her expression unreadable. “Is this me?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for an explanation. “It’s just a practice piece,” she said, her voice strained. “I was messing around.”

Karina’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “You’re really good at this, you know. I didn’t realize you were so obsessed with my face.”

“I’m not!” Y/N’s cheeks burned as she snatched the sketchbook back.

Karina laughed, a sound that was warm and light, filling the room. “Relax, Y/N. It’s flattering, really. You’ve got talent.”

Y/N forced a shaky laugh, her stomach twisting in knots. “Thanks,” she murmured, clutching the sketchbook to her chest.

As Karina turned to grab her water bottle, Y/N exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. That was too close.

Later that night, Y/N sat on her bed, staring at the closed sketchbook in her lap. The encounter replayed over and over in her mind, each moment gnawing at her resolve.

What if the painting was too much? The sketch had been casual, yet even that felt vulnerable. How could she show Karina the painting when it held everything she couldn’t say out loud?

Her phone buzzed, and she saw a message from Minjeong.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Without thinking too much about it, Y/N replied, “Can we talk?”

An hour later, Y/N found herself sitting in a café with Minjeong and Ryujin. The small booth felt cozy, and the low murmur of other patrons provided a comforting backdrop. Still, Y/N couldn’t shake her nerves.

“So,” Ryujin said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You called us here to spill some tea?”

Minjeong sipped her iced coffee, her eyes sharp with curiosity. “What’s going on?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. Finally, she sighed. “I’ve been working on something… for Karina.”

Ryujin raised an eyebrow. “You mean the painting? You didn’t chicken out on finishing it, did you?”

“No, it’s done,” Y/N admitted. “Mostly, anyway.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Minjeong asked.

Y/N hesitated, her voice dropping. “She almost saw it. I mean, she saw a sketch of her, and even that felt so… exposed. I don’t know if I can show her the real thing. What if it’s too much? What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Ryujin exchanged a glance with Minjeong before leaning back in her seat. “Okay, first of all, you’re overthinking this. It’s a painting, not a marriage proposal.”

Minjeong gave Ryujin a pointed look before turning to Y/N. “What she means is, you’re letting fear stop you from sharing something beautiful. Karina’s not the type to make you feel bad about your feelings. She’ll see the effort you put into it and appreciate it.”

Y/N sighed, still unconvinced. “But what if it changes things between us? What if it makes things… awkward?”

Ryujin leaned forward again, her tone gentler this time. “Listen, Y/N. You’ve already poured your heart into that painting. Keeping it hidden isn’t going to make those feelings go away. Karina deserves to see it. And you deserve to let her know how you feel, even if it’s scary.”

Minjeong nodded in agreement. “Think of it this way. The worst that can happen is a little awkwardness. But the best that can happen? That’s worth the risk.”

Y/N looked between her two friends, their words sinking in. Deep down, she knew they were right.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll do it. I’ll show her.”

Ryujin grinned, raising her cup of coffee in a mock toast. “That’s the spirit.”

As Y/N walked home, the city lights twinkled like scattered diamonds against the velvety darkness. The crisp evening air carried a faint chill, brushing against her cheeks and filling her lungs with a sharp clarity that mirrored the resolve forming in her chest. Each step felt lighter, as if the weight of her fear was slowly being replaced by a flicker of courage. It wasn’t overwhelming or all-consuming, but it was there, a small, steady flame burning quietly within her. She wasn’t entirely ready, but she was getting there.

Her thoughts swirled as she reached her apartment building and climbed the familiar stairs. Every moment with Karina flashed vividly in her mind, the way her laughter lit up a room, the quiet strength in her gaze, the unguarded moments when she let her softer side show. Y/N’s lips curved into a small, wistful smile as she unlocked her door and stepped inside.

The apartment greeted her with its usual stillness, the faint scent of paint lingering in the air. She set her bag down and crossed the room to where the painting rested on its easel, waiting like a secret she wasn’t sure she could keep much longer.

Standing before it, Y/N reached out and let her fingers trace the edges of the canvas. The surface was smooth under her touch, but the emotions it held felt raw and vulnerable. The colors were vibrant yet soft, carefully chosen to bring life to Karina’s essence. Her gaze lingered on the delicate details, the gentle curve of Karina’s lips, the light in her eyes, the quiet strength radiating from her expression.

It was more than a painting. It was a confession, a love letter written in brushstrokes and hues. Every inch of it held a piece of Y/N’s heart, a reflection of feelings she had carried silently for so long.

Her breath hitched as a wave of emotion washed over her, an ache of longing, a surge of fear, and a spark of hope all tangled together. Could she really do this? Could she lay her heart bare and trust that Karina would understand?

She took a step back, her arms wrapping around herself as she stared at the painting. The vulnerability was terrifying, but the thought of keeping it hidden felt even worse. This was her truth, and no matter how afraid she was, she knew it deserved to be seen.

Y/N took a deep breath, letting it fill her chest and steady her trembling hands.

The days that followed were a blur of anticipation and nerves. Every glance at the painting made Y/N’s heart race, her emotions swinging between fear and hope. She spent hours in her studio, touching up the smallest details, ensuring every stroke was perfect.

When she finally set her brush down, she knew it was time.

Y/N paced her apartment that evening, her mind racing as she rehearsed the words she wanted to say. None of them seemed quite right. What could she say to explain the depth of her feelings? How could she capture in words what she had spent weeks pouring into the painting?

Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. She reached for it with slightly trembling hands, her breath catching when she saw the name on the screen. Jimin.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

The message was simple, casual, but it sent Y/N’s heart racing. She stared at the screen for a long moment, her thoughts spinning. This was it. The moment she’d been building toward.

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed back, “Yeah. Want to come over?”

The reply came almost instantly.

“Sure. Be there in an hour.”

Y/N stared at the screen, her pulse quickening. Her mind buzzed with a mix of excitement and nerves. She stood up, the chair scraping softly against the floor, and looked around the room.

The painting stood on its easel in the corner, draped in a soft white cloth like a secret waiting to be uncovered. Y/N adjusted the drape, making sure it covered the painting completely, then stepped back to take in the room.

The lighting was warm and dim, the soft glow of the overhead light complemented by a small lamp near her desk. Shadows danced faintly on the walls, giving the space an intimate, cozy feel. It was exactly what she wanted for this moment, a place where she could share something deeply personal, without the chaos of the outside world intruding.

But as the minutes ticked by, Y/N felt her nerves growing. What if this didn’t go as she hoped? What if Karina didn’t understand what the painting meant? She shook her head, trying to push the doubts away.

By the time the doorbell rang, her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears.

Y/N took a deep breath, smoothing her hands over her sweater before crossing the room. She paused for a moment in front of the door, steadying herself, then opened it.

Karina stood there, her usual casual elegance effortlessly on display. She wore a simple black sweater and jeans, the fabric hugging her frame in a way that was both understated and stunning. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the light from the hallway.

“Hey,” Karina said, her smile as radiant as ever. “You okay? You look a little…” She tilted her head, studying Y/N’s face. “Nervous.”

“I’m fine,” Y/N said quickly, stepping aside to let her in. “Just… been working on something.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Oh? Another secret project?”

Y/N led her to the studio, her heart pounding as she gestured toward the covered easel. “It’s finished now. And I… I want you to see it.”

Karina’s eyes softened, her smile turning gentle. “You’ve been so mysterious about this. I’ve been dying to know what you’ve been working on.”

Y/N hesitated, her hands trembling as she reached for the edge of the cloth. She paused, glancing at Karina. “Before I show you… just know that this is really personal. It’s not just a painting. It’s…” She trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Karina stepped closer, her expression reassuring. “Hey. It’s okay. Show me.”

Taking a deep breath, Y/N reached for the cloth, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the soft fabric. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering to Karina. The warmth in Karina’s gaze was reassuring, steady, and it gave Y/N the courage she needed.

With a single, fluid motion, Y/N pulled the cloth away, revealing the painting.

The room fell silent.

Karina’s breath caught audibly as her eyes locked on the canvas. Her lips parted slightly, her expression a mixture of awe and disbelief. She took a small step closer, her gaze moving slowly over the intricate details of the piece.

The painting was a masterpiece, a vivid and breathtaking portrayal of Karina that went beyond simple likeness. It captured not just her beauty but the very essence of who she was. Her eyes sparkled with a soft light that seemed alive, brimming with both strength and vulnerability. Her posture exuded quiet confidence, a testament to her resilience, while the warmth radiating from her expression seemed to fill the room itself.

“Y/N…” Karina’s voice was barely a whisper, the sound delicate and almost fragile. She stepped closer, her hand lifting instinctively. Her fingers hovered near the canvas, trembling slightly, as if she were afraid touching it might break the spell it had cast. “This is… me?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight as she nodded. “It’s you.”

Karina’s gaze remained on the painting, her eyes tracing every detail, every brushstroke. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of wonder and something deeper, something Y/N couldn’t quite name. Slowly, Karina turned her head to meet Y/N’s eyes.

“Why?” she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine curiosity and an undercurrent of something heavier.

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

Y/N’s heart raced, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she struggled to find the right words. Her voice trembled when she finally spoke. “Because… you inspire me,” she began, her gaze dropping for a moment before lifting again to meet Karina’s. “Every time I see you, every time we talk, I feel… something I can’t put into words. So I put it here.”

She gestured toward the painting, her hands shaking slightly. “You’ve become my muse, Jimin. Not just for my art, but… for everything.”

Karina’s breath hitched, the sound almost imperceptible in the quiet room. She turned fully toward Y/N, her eyes glistening under the soft studio lights. “You feel that way about me?”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “I do,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I know this might change things, but… I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. You mean so much to me, and I needed you to know.”

The silence that followed felt endless. Every second stretched into an eternity, each beat of Y/N’s heart pounding in her ears. Doubt began to creep in, clawing at her as she stood frozen, her vulnerability laid bare.

Then Karina smiled.

It was small at first, a soft curve of her lips that grew into something tender and luminous. It was the kind of smile that melted every ounce of Y/N’s doubt, that quieted the storm of fear in her chest.

“Y/N,” Karina said gently, her voice steady despite the emotion thickening it. “This is… the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Y/N felt tears prick at her eyes, her breath catching as she searched Karina’s expression for reassurance.

“You mean so much to me too,” Karina continued, her smile deepening. She stepped closer, closing the space between them. “More than I think I’ve ever been able to say. And now, looking at this… it’s like you’ve said everything I’ve ever felt but didn’t know how to put into words.”

Y/N’s lips parted, but no sound came out. The weight of Karina’s words, the depth of her gaze, left her speechless.

Karina’s hand reached out, hesitant at first, before gently brushing against Y/N’s. “You didn’t just paint me. You saw me.” Her voice was soft, her tone reverent. “And no one’s ever done that before.”

Y/N’s heart swelled, a warmth spreading through her that made her feel as if she might float. “I couldn’t help it,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’ve always been so much more than what people see. I just… I wanted to show you what I see.”

Karina’s smile turned wistful as she stepped even closer, their hands brushing again, this time lingering. “You’ve always seen me, Y/N,” she murmured. “I just didn’t realize how much it meant until now.”

In one fluid motion, Karina lifted her hand to Y/N’s cheek, her touch featherlight. Her gaze dropped to Y/N’s lips for a fleeting moment before meeting her eyes again, and in that shared look, the world seemed to fall away.

“Can I?” Karina whispered, her voice barely audible.

Y/N’s nod was almost imperceptible, but it was all Karina needed.

When their lips met, it was tentative at first, a gentle brush that held the weight of every unspoken word, every lingering glance, and every stolen moment they had shared. The softness of the kiss was electric, sending a shiver through Y/N that started at her lips and spread outward, warming every part of her.

For a fleeting second, the world seemed to hold its breath. Time slowed, the only sound in the room, the faint hum of the overhead lights and the quiet rush of Y/N’s heartbeat in her ears. Her hands hovered uncertainly by her sides before she found the courage to let them rest lightly on Karina’s waist, her touch tentative but steadying.

Karina responded with equal care, tilting her head slightly to deepen the kiss. Her fingers, which had been resting delicately on Y/N’s cheek, slipped into her hair, threading gently through the strands as if anchoring herself in the moment. There was a deliberateness in her movements, as though she wanted to savor every second, every sensation.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, a dance of emotion that spoke louder than any words ever could. It wasn’t rushed or fleeting, it was grounding, a moment where they both poured out everything they had held back for so long. Y/N’s mind swirled, her senses overwhelmed by the softness of Karina’s lips, the faint scent of her perfume, the warmth radiating from her touch.

Y/N could feel Karina’s breath hitch slightly, a soft, almost inaudible sound that sent a jolt of vulnerability and affection straight to her chest. She tightened her grip just a fraction, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of Karina’s sweater. It was as if she needed something tangible to hold onto, to remind herself that this wasn’t a dream.

Karina shifted closer, their bodies brushing in a way that felt both grounding and electrifying. The space between them disappeared entirely, leaving nothing but the shared warmth of their connection. Y/N could feel the faint, rapid rhythm of Karina’s heartbeat against her own, a quiet reminder that they were both equally affected by this moment.

When they pulled apart, Karina rested her forehead against Y/N’s, her smile soft and full of quiet joy. “I guess I really am your muse now,” she said, her voice laced with a playful warmth.

“You always have been,” Y/N replied, her own smile mirroring Karina’s.

They stayed like that for a moment, the glow of the studio lights wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. The painting stood behind them, a testament to everything they had finally found the courage to share.

The days that followed felt like stepping into a dream, one that was warm, steady, and more real than anything Y/N could have imagined. After the quiet confessions and the kiss that left their hearts irrevocably intertwined, Y/N and Karina slipped into a rhythm that felt natural, as though they had always been meant to find this harmony.

They were cautious at first, navigating the unspoken boundaries of their new relationship with soft touches and knowing smiles. Y/N found herself drawn to Karina in ways she hadn’t allowed herself before, letting her fingers linger when they brushed against Karina’s, leaning into her when they sat together, and allowing her gaze to linger openly now, no longer afraid of being caught.

Karina, for her part, seemed equally at ease. She’d taken to slipping into Y/N’s studio whenever she had free time, lounging on the couch as Y/N worked. She would sometimes glance at the painting on the wall, the one that started it all, with an expression that was a mix of pride and tenderness.

“It still feels surreal, you know,” Karina said one evening, her voice soft as she leaned her head back against the couch.

Y/N glanced up from her sketchbook, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “What does?”

“That someone could see me the way you do,” Karina replied, her eyes drifting to the painting again.

Y/N set her sketchbook down, crossing the room to sit beside her. “You make it easy,” she murmured, her fingers brushing lightly against Karina’s. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to capture. And now…” She hesitated, her cheeks warming slightly. “Now you’re mine to keep.”

Karina smiled, lacing her fingers with Y/N’s. “And you’re mine.”

The painting remained in its place on the studio wall, a symbol of their love and the moment their hearts had become one. It wasn’t just art anymore, it was a shared memory, a piece of their story. Y/N often caught Karina looking at it, her expression soft with nostalgia, as though reliving the moment she first saw it.

Months later, Y/N stood in her studio, a fresh canvas stretched across her easel. The room was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon, the warmth spilling through the windows and casting soft shadows on the walls.

She stared at the blank canvas, her fingers lightly gripping a brush as she mulled over her next creation. Beside her, Karina was perched on a stool, flipping through one of Y/N’s sketchbooks.

“Starting something new?” Karina asked, her tone curious.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, glancing at her with a playful smile. “And guess what? You’re still the muse.”

Karina laughed, setting the sketchbook down. “I feel like I’ve been promoted. What’s this one about?”

Y/N hesitated, a smile tugging at her lips. “Us,” she said simply.

Karina tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Us?”

Y/N nodded, dipping her brush into a soft, rosy hue and making the first, tentative strokes on the canvas. “I want to paint us together,” she said, her voice soft. “Not just me looking at you, or you being the focus, but us, together, as equals. As…” She paused, glancing at Karina. “As lovers.”

Karina’s cheeks flushed slightly, but her smile was radiant. “That sounds perfect,” she murmured, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s temple.

The studio was quiet except for the gentle rustle of brushes and the faint hum of the city outside. Y/N worked steadily, the strokes of her brush deliberate and filled with love. Beside her, Karina stayed close, occasionally reaching out to steady the easel or tease Y/N with playful comments about her artistic process.

As the first outlines of the painting took shape, Y/N felt a deep sense of peace settle over her. The canvas would take time to complete, but that was okay. They had all the time in the world now, together.

The painting, when finished, would hang beside the first, a continuation of their story. Where the first painting was a confession, this one would be a celebration: two hearts, two souls, and a love that had grown stronger with each passing day.

For now, Y/N smiled as she worked, Karina’s laughter filling the space beside her.

[daisymbin]

Hi belle can I request 22. "you were my first love—you still are." Of second chance romance with Joshua. I feel like reading second chances are like a tales that always end in a happy ending ❤️.

hi lovely!!! of course you can! & yes... but honestly I think I'm addicted to thrill at the start of a second chance romance because its always exhilarating yet terrifying 😬

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

second chance prompt #22: "you were my first love—you still are."

it was supposed to be a fun night. a few drinks, some dinner, the three of you just laughing and letting loose. chan, mingyu, and you had been out for a while now, but as the night wore on, the fun started to fade.

you hadn’t realized how much you were drinking at first, but as the alcohol hit you, it blurred your thoughts and made your heart ache.

your mind wouldn’t stop going back to joshua—joshua, joshua, joshua. the love you had for him. the love you still had for him.

the way he smiled at you. the way he’d look at you like you were the only one in the room.

you missed him.

“hey, you okay?” mingyu asked, his voice cutting through the fog in your head.

you blinked at him, not quite able to focus. your eyes were heavy, your chest tight. “i miss him,” you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone.

chan and mingyu exchanged a worried glance, both of them knowing exactly who you were talking about. they had been trying to keep you distracted all night, but it was clear you were spiraling.

“come on,” chan said softly, trying to get your attention. “let’s get you home, okay?”

but you just shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “no… i can’t go home. not without him.”

mingyu, despite his large frame, was surprisingly gentle. he leaned down to help you up, but you flinched away from him, your body swaying.

“come on,” mingyu coaxed, his deep voice comforting. “we need to get you home.”

but you weren’t having it. you shook your head stubbornly. “no, i need him,” you slurred, clutching at your chest as if it would ease the ache there. “only joshua.”

chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “this isn’t going anywhere. i’m calling him.”

the moment chan dialed joshua’s number, you stiffened, your gaze sharpening, even though you were beyond tipsy.

“joshua…” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding.

it didn’t take long for joshua to pick up.

“hello?” his voice came through, the usual warmth in his tone immediately replaced by concern when he heard the situation.

“hyung, can you come?” mingyu said, his voice surprisingly tense for someone usually so laid-back. “(y/n)’s a mess. she won’t let us take her home.”

there was a long pause on the other end of the line. “what happened?”

“she’s drunk off her ass and crying over you,” chan explained. “we can’t get her to leave until she sees you. we’re at that bar near the corner. please, hurry.”

joshua didn’t waste another second. “i’m on my way.”

when joshua arrived, he found you, a sobbing mess, crumpled against the bar counter. mingyu and chan had both tried to console you, but you were inconsolable.

the moment you saw joshua walk through the door, your eyes widened. for a second, it felt like a dream.

your face, already flushed from crying, broke into a small, relieved smile. “shua…” you whispered, your voice raw and barely audible over the sounds of the bar.

you wobbled to your feet, and despite your blurry vision, you flung yourself into his arms.

joshua caught you instantly, his arms wrapping around you tightly, feeling the weight of your sadness. his heart broke as he felt how fragile you were in his embrace, how lost you looked.

“you’re finally here,” you mumbled, barely coherent, your voice trembling as you clung to him. “i waited for you…”

joshua’s heart ached at your words. you didn’t mean for him to hear, but he did. and it tore him apart.

“hey, hey, i’m here now,” joshua whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his hands soft against your skin. “it’s okay. i’m here, sweetheart.”

but before he could say anything else, your body went limp, your eyes fluttering shut as you passed out in his arms.

“sweetheart?” joshua called softly, but you were already passed out.

“oh boy,” mingyu muttered under his breath.

joshua face set with determination, “get the car ready. i’ll carry her.”

as he carefully scooped you up in his arms, joshua couldn’t help but scold chan and mingyu. “i can’t believe you two let her drink this much. she’s been sobbing all night, and you didn’t stop her?”

mingyu looked guilty, rubbing the back of his neck. “we tried, but—”

“don’t,” joshua cut him off, shaking his head. “just get the car.”

when joshua reached your apartment, he carried you inside, his heart still heavy with everything you had said. he laid you gently on your bed, tucking you under the covers.

but you stirred, a soft, drowsy whimper escaping you as you reached for him. you clung to his sweatshirt, your fingers weak but desperate.

“shua,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

"you can let go sweetheart, you're home now." he says as he patted your head softly.

“if i let go… you’ll leave me, right? forever?”

joshua felt a tightness in his chest as he watched you, your tear-streaked face filled with so much pain, so much fear of losing him.

he sat down next to you, gently brushing your hair away from your face. “i’m not going anywhere. i’m not leaving you,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much tenderness.

“promise?” you asked, your eyes barely open, looking up at him with hope.

joshua’s heart broke at how vulnerable you were, how badly you needed reassurance. how badly you needed his reassurance.

he didn’t say “yes.” instead, he spoke the words he had been holding back for so long.

“you were my first love,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “you still are. i would do anything for you.”

your breath hitched at his words, and for the first time that night, you finally felt a weight lift from your chest.

joshua stayed by your side, his hand gently stroking your hair as you drifted into a peaceful sleep. and now you're finally home, you're safe. he is here, and he isn't going anywhere.

[kalystatheevil]

scaramouche is observing you, amused. you've been shamelessly staring at him from across the room for the past half an hour, like a baby seeing a stranger for the first time. "come," he says, and pats his lap.

cw: heavy voyeurism, intoxicated reader, dom!scara, fem!reader, noncon elements (but reader is horny af), 18+

heizou, aether, kazuha and childe look up to watch you walk towards him while continuing their conversation. after the party died down, they were lounging around on the sofas, talking in low voices.

scaramouche grabs your hips to pull you on top of him without hesitation, making you straddle one of his thighs. your cunt throbs hotly, pulling at your belly. a little shift, a little friction - instinctual, to find relief.

"ah… that's what i thought." scaramouche smirks. "not surprising after you kept fucking me with your eyes."

"scara... she's really fucked up. i don't think..."

"come on." scaramouche interrupts, relaxed. "ride my thigh so everyone can watch."

you must be dreaming. his ethereal blue eyes are so close now, seeing you, only you. your body starts moving all on its own, craving. It's bliss. slick seeps through your panties, your lips part to gasp, allowing mewls to pass.

it feels so good. his thigh is firm and eyes are tingling on your skin. you feel like you're watching yourself, rutting so pathetically on the thigh of someone so painfully beautiful.

"tell me, angel," scaramouche mumbles close to your ear, voice thick with lust. one of his hands rests on the small of your back, caressing it warmly. "how about i stuff your needy hole with my fingers, mh?"

you gasp, tingling. yes. yes.

no conversations are held anymore. in the dimly lit room, only your gasps and moans are heard next to the soft ambient music as you ride his fingers, dizzy from substances and pleasure.

"clench," he commands, and you obey. twinging pressure sears through you, so deep and intense that it makes you want to whimper, plead. "let it out… haha… let it out, baby."

the pleas tumble from your lips like marbles. he laughs, breathless, as you seek your own release on his fingers, caressing and stroking your insides. when you falter, he thrusts them up with his leg, so hard that you feel it in your entire body.

you come with intense shaking. time stops, zaps of pleasure chasing you as you slump against scaramouche. slick slides down the sides of his bare thigh, where his dark shorts rolled up.

nobody speaks. cocks find their way back into pants. some kindly avert their eyes.

a strand of your hair glides through scaramouche's fingers. "i like you, y/n." he watches it get caught on the wetness that's still on his fingers. his other hand never moved away from your waist.

"i think i'll keep you."

[hisui-dreamer]

😳😳 ace trappola and hibiscuses 🌺 for the bloom event……?? smth smth romance TEHEPERO 🫶 GL W YOUR ASSIGNMENTS RINNA!! EXCITED TO SEE WHATCHU GOT IN STORE

the heart's belonging

Pairing: Ace Trappola x gn!reader

Synopsis: in which ace finds you far too beautiful and can't help getting jealous when others realise that too

Tags: fluff, ace is an absolute teenager, jealously, he's also an absolute simp, basically a beach episode, slight pining

Word count: 680

Notes: thank you for requesting ashi!! you're the first too haha ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ this interpretation comes from malaysia, and i was so inspired by it the fic basically wrote itself haha! i hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

flower of choice: hibiscus

It is said that wearing a hibiscus flower carries a special significance: placing the flower behind the left ear signifies "I yearn to encounter love," while placing the flower on the right ear indicates "My heart already belongs to someone".

Ace believes it's the teenage boy's dream to see their crush in a swimsuit.

What he didn't expect, though, was the surge of protectiveness that washed over him and how much he wanted to hide you from everyone.

He had only been away for less than ten minutes, offering to grab you a bottle of water when you mentioned feeling thirsty. But in that short span, a group of guys had already approached you. The sight of a few guys talking to you makes his blood boil. He quickens his pace, feeling a pang of jealousy rising within him.

"Hey, is everything okay here?" he interjects, his voice steady but his jaw clenched with an underlying tension.

The guys glance at him, sensing his protective stance. "Yeah, just chatting," one of them replies, though they seem to pick up on Ace's annoyance.

Without missing a beat, Ace steps closer, subtly positioning himself between you and the group. "Well, it looks like the conversation's over," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The guys exchange awkward glances before nodding and backing away, clearly getting the message.

With the guys finally dispersing, Ace releases a pent-up sigh, a muttered "Tch..." slipping from his lips as he battles to quell his simmering irritation. Despite the knot tightening in his chest, he extends the bottle of water towards you, a forced smile masking his inner turmoil.

"Thanks," you respond, your eyes fixed on him with a curious intensity as you accept the drink and take a sip.

His gaze remains fixed on you, his mind swirling with thoughts of how alluring you look, now amplified by that damn red flower you plucked earlier, currently tucked behind your right ear. He finds himself entranced by the way the flower accentuates the curve of your cheek, how its vibrant petals seem to echo the flush of your lips.

But he knows that it's not the flower itself that makes you beautiful—it's you, in all your radiant splendour, that leaves him completely spellbound.

"...Aren't you bothered at all by those guys?" he asks quietly, a hint of jealousy evident in his voice.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "No," you say thoughtfully. "They're harmless,"

"Harmless?" Ace raises an incredulous eyebrow. "Why?"

"They're not my type."

He pauses, processing your words before curiosity gets the better of him. "... What's your type then?"

You smile knowingly, your fingertips tracing the delicate petals of the hibiscus flower nestled behind your right ear as you tuck your hair in place. With a deliberate slowness, you pivot to face Ace, your eyes locking with his in a gaze so profound that it feels as though it's delving into the depths of his soul.

He finds himself completely mesmerised as the sunlight caresses your skin, casting a radiant glow that seems to highlight your every feature; the gentle breeze tousles your hair, creating a halo of golden strands that frames your face in an ethereal light; the vibrant hibiscus illuminating the clarity of your eyes under the golden rays of sunshine.

He drinks in every detail, every movement, etches itself into his memory, leaving an indelible imprint that he knows he will carry with him long after this day is over.

Your finger playfully jabs his chest, breaking him out of his trance.

"Bleh~" you taunt, your tongue poking out mischievously. "I'm not telling you!" With a teasing grin, you swiftly dart away, leaving him flustered by your evasion.

Before he can gather his thoughts, you're already in motion, leaving him trailing behind. "Wha- Hey, wait up!" he calls after you, his feet stumbling as he hastens to catch up, determined not to let you slip away.

A whirlwind of theories are swirling in his mind, but he is intent on hearing what your type is straight from your own lips.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[therealpie02]

One story at the hotel

Pairings: San x fem! reader x Yeosang

Summary: You and your friends stayed at the hotel after a good evening with alcohol. But alcohol wasn't to blame for what happened next. Your secret desires made you play with each other.

Word count: ~2k

Genre: smut 18+

Warnings: ITS A FICTION! Threesome, dom!San, dom!Yeosang, somnophilia, voyeurism (reader), oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names (kitten, honey, darling), squirting, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: friendly reminder English isn’t my native language <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Judging by the way your head hurt, you had a great time with your friends at the restaurant. Then at the bar. Then on a visit. Then at the hotel. You hardly remember these places, as alcohol has taken over your head. Your mouth was dry, head ached, and it was cool under the covers. In general, the "best" hangover combo.

You needed to go to the bathroom. Opening your eyes a little, you couldn't see anything at first. It was probably still the middle of the night, and only the moonlight from under the curtains made it possible to see something. For example, you were able to identify who your roommate was. Yeosang was sleeping on the other side of the bed, and his beauty took your breath away. He looked like a sleeping beauty, his dark hair spread out on the pillow, a few strands fell over his face, which shone in the moonlight. You had a terrible desire to touch your friend, your thoughts were spinning chaotically in your head, and your gaze fell on his lips. Suddenly his lips parted and he moaned softly.

You're frozen in place. You tried not to breathe or blink. What just happened? Has Yeosang learned to read your mind in a dream? A simple coincidence? It's all alcohol in the blood, just a figment of your imagination. Yeosang was asleep, he couldn't moan. However, when he did it again, you lowered your gaze even lower. His magnificent body was completely naked, his chest heaved with deep breathing, the muscles of his abs tensed with one sigh, his stomach retracted and tensed, as if he was being given a blowjob. You were trying to keep all your composure when you realized that it turned out to be true. Above Yeosang's dick was San's face.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" your whole body tensed, you felt an incredibly strong arousal underneath. Maybe just knowing what's going on right now has made you so wet. You knew that there was a close bond between them, but you didn't realize that it was so close. And now you're in the middle of it all.

San, apparently, did this more than once, he slowly touched his lips to Yeo's cock, which, despite his master's sleep, became bigger and harder. The man didn’t want to wake up his friend, so he tried to do everything gently, slowly running his hand over the hardened cock. The pre-cum flowed from the head along the entire length and veins, and, frankly, the view was very appetizing. The naked San was lying on his stomach between Yeosang's thighs, his head slowly sank onto his cock, his lips captured the head and began to suck gently. From pleasure, San closed his eyes and with full pleasure continued to insert the cock further.

How hard you tried not to moan. Yeosang himself was still asleep, although he began to cry out moans more often while San enthusiastically sucked his cock. You couldn't even imagine such a thing, but you are watching them with your own eyes. You felt hot, you were ready to cry from how you wanted to touch your needy pussy. You gently lowered your hand to clit and slowly and silently circled it. A jolt of pleasure went through your body, but you didn't show it.

"Ah, mmff, ah" Yeosang began to wake up and at the same time slightly thrust his hips into San's mouth, to which the man sat down even deeper with a groan. Gods, your friend sucked another friend's dick. San started the cock by his cheeks, licked from the base to the head, without missing a single drop of pre-cum, smacking his lips with ecstasy took his thrusts. You have accelerated the movements of your hand, you feel that you will come very soon.

After a few more thrusts of Yeosang, you heard his long moan, saw how his stomach tightened and how he poured cum down his friend's throat. You wonder if Yeosang knows who did this to him? The answer didn’t take long to come. After San swallowed all the cum, he stood over Yeo's chest. With one hand, San caught him by the cheeks, forcing him to open his jaw, with the other hand he ran over his hard cock.

"San," Yeosang whispered, to which San ordered him to open his mouth wider with his hand. When you looked at San, you realized that San was looking at you. A heartbeat. You held your breath, your hand stopped masturbating. His closed eyes were looking at you, he smirked at you and cum on Yeosang's face. His cum got on his nose, eye, lips and mouth. Yeosang obediently took every drop with his mouth.

"Fuck," you whispered, squirming under the covers because you had never been so horny before. You wanted to hide and get free. You wanted to cum. And San realized it faster.

"Y/n, aren't we friends?" he asked, carefully pulling off your cover. You nodded.

"You won't mind, will you, y/n? Yeosang and I are friends, you and I are friends, and you want this too, right?" San pulled the cover off you, thereby revealing to himself a view of you in a T-shirt and in only lace panties. Yeo knelt next to San and also looked at your wet folds. Yes, you are friends. Yes, you wanted your friends terribly. Yes, you imagined these guys from your department fucking you. Yes, you wanted it to go on.

"Yes," you said confidently. San smiled, Yeosang smirked. They both reached for your face, and San kissed you first, wetly and casually, biting your lip. After that, Yeosang bit into your lips, forcing you to open up under his pressure. When you felt that he handed you San's cum, which was in his mouth, you moaned into his lips. Breaking away from you, San and Yeosang kissed and knelt down again. You didn't know if alcohol was playing with you or not, but you didn't care.

"Did you want to do everything yourself, kitten?" said San, spreading your legs wider. When he didn't get an answer, Yeosang grabbed your face.

"Did you want to play without us, honey?" left them without an answer, Yeosang pressed your face harder with his fingers. "Please answer."

"I... I didn't want to distract you."

"You wanted to leave us without fun, you bad kitten," San growled as he touched your horny clit. You felt everything begin to pull at the bottom of your stomach again. Gods… At this time, Yeosang pulled up that T-shirt, removing it from your body with one finger and clung to your nipple. You started to tremble and feel like you were going to make a complete mess. Right in front of your friends.

"San, no, no, now I..." you started, but San just started working faster on the clit.

"You're going to make a complete mess, aren't you?"

"San, Yeosang, let me go out, I'll come back, I..." you screamed when you felt two fingers pulling your panties apart and ending up in your pussy. They were Yeo's fingers.

"Do what we say," Yeosang flashed his eyes at you from under his brows, forcing you to give up all attempts to get out of this trap.

They continued to torture your pussy and you knew that you could no longer restrain yourself. Without stopping, with rhythmic hand works, your friends sent you over the edge of your mind. You screamed, not really worried that someone might hear, because you felt the most powerful orgasm in your life. Your juices started pouring out of you, but the men didn't slow down their moves, making you flow only harder.

"Damn, I..." You couldn't believe they made you squirt.

"Dirty dirty kitten" San smiled d to dimples on his cheeks "You just couldn't help yourself right in front of our eyes" he stroked your throbbing and wet pussy, making you tremble.

"I bet you've been wanting to do this with us for a long time, little slut," Yeosang's deep voice rang out.

"One day we will definitely do it again," and from these words of San, you loudly swallowed saliva.

"Now be a good friend, open your legs and mouth wider," San ordered, stroking your ass from below. You looked at Yeosang, who approached your face and took you by the hair. You obediently opened your mouth to his big and hot cock. He pushed half inside you, but you could feel the salty taste of his pre-cum and moan. Now you understood why San had such a face, it was impossible not to enjoy Yeosang's cock.

Meanwhile, San, watching you obediently accept a friend's cock with your mouth, entered your pussy with one thrust, forcing you to moan into Yeo's cock. He quickly picked up an accelerated pace and you couldn't focus on him.

"You better not get distracted, darling" Yeosang fixed your head with his hand and began to hip into your mouth, head touching the wall of your throat. The sensations caused tears to flow down your face, saliva to flow out of your mouth, and your pussy was approaching a second orgasm.

"San" after Yeo's conversion, San immediately came out of you and went to your face while Yesan came out of your mouth and took San's place. And you felt his cock in your pussy and the way he stretched you even more.

"You're such a good kitten, why haven't we played with you before huh?" without giving you an answer, San turned your head to his cock and entered your mouth at the same pace as a second ago into your pussy.

You were panting and moaning, you were squirming, but both guys were holding you tight enough. Who would have thought that you would live to see this? You felt Yeosang's hips become more chaotic and deep, knocking the air out of your lungs. After a couple of seconds, he pinched your waist in his hands and finished in you with hot cum. Damn it, your friend has cummed a whole bucket into you and you want to cum again at the very thought.

Still not fully recovering, Yeosang moved away and lay down next to you, returning the place for San and kissing your face and neck. San returned his cock to your pussy and moaned.

"You like to take everything from the two of us, right? Our friend's sperm has not cooled down in you yet, how are you ready to accept me?" you almost cum from these words. You started moaning and crying louder because San set an incredible pace of thrusts.

"Y/n, cum. Now," Yesan ordered in your ear and you obeyed him. Your walls tightened around San's cock and began to pulsate around him, from which San cum deep into you. After pausing for a couple of seconds to catch his breath, San came out of you and looked at that reddened and exhausted pussy, from which their sperm began to flow and he grinned at this view. San adjusted your wet panties and lightly patted your pussy.

He lay down on the other side of you and also started kissing your face along with Yeosang.

"You are so good, kitten, tomorrow you will walk with the same panties, communicate with others, knowing that our cum is inside you, feeling like such a pretty whore," San whispered stroking your whole body with his hand.

"You are a true friend, y/n," Yeosang whispered.

You lay with them and understood only one thing. Yes, you would like to repeat this night over and over again.

[tmwcs]

The Little Mermaid

Part One

Warnings: None…yet.

The surface of the sea presented a contradiction between logic and beauty. It was both calm and raging, the smooth glass reflection of the rolling waves was like a mirror for the Gods residing above the clouds. The seagulls swoon and swirled, admiring the glistening shine of the sun’s rays reflecting off the deep blue. Your body rests on the flat top of the massive rock. It was warm and mostly dry–only the ocean spray graced its mineral surface and quickly dried under the warm light. The scales of your tale was a blend of Pear green, sky blue, lavender, and blush pink. They shined like diamonds and looked more precious than the jewels found on the ocean floor. The strands of your locks reflected a similar pastel blend, just brighter thanks to the unique silver and gold coating that graced each layer. Like tinsel, they reflected a shimmering hue that made your hair sparkle. Your eyes–much like all mermaids, reflected rainbow tints under heavy lashes.

Mermaids were never allowed to cry, it was a customary trait that became innate–since the very first mermaid swore off tears after accidentally slaying her only lover. Atargatis became the goddess of fertility, but her sadness was too much to bear. Once her beautiful legs transformed after she threw herself into the sea, she forbade all descendents of the sea to ever shed tears, so that no one would ever have to relive the sadness she endured. Therefore, all mermaids of her descending bloodline inherited the rainbow eyes–too beautiful to ever shed tears, and forever fulfilling Atargatis’s decree. However, just because you were not capable of doing so, it didn’t mean you wanted to. After longing to inherit those beautiful stilts that the humans would flare whenever they pounced and leaped upon the wooden board of the ships. They looked so joyful and happy–the way they could move and looked as if they flew in mid air each time they jumped.

If only…

You longed for legs of your own. Which is why you took up on the sea witch’s offer when she approached you during a delightful swim to the surface. She claimed that all she wanted was the Pearl you wore on your hair, it was a gift upon coming of age and your sisters all received the same. Despite being the youngest, you received the largest pearl. You cherished it, however, when you were tempted with the thought of frolicking through the dry sand with legs of your own, you gave it up–even if it was just for one day of being human. You didn’t care if you had to face hundreds of years facing the consequences and lectures from your family, so long as you could live out a dream that every mermaid yearned for. You take the miraculous potion from her hands. You couldn’t help but notice the abnormal structures of her fingers–then again, her entire form was abnormal. As you took the spiral conch shell that contained the elixir of her own recipe, you noticed the large gold ring that graced her index. It had a scripture in the human language–something that was unique to any creature that resides in the sea. “My—that ring is interesting, madam sea witch.”

She chuckles deviously. “Ah yes…it would be interesting to the likes of a mermaid, wouldn’t it? After all, you and your kind only witness the language engraved on ships and speak it through tales of song.” Her voice cackled and sounded as dead as driftwood. “A new piece that I am quite fond of. I’m sure once you inherit your beautiful legs, you’ll be able to see many languages, won't you?” she spoke in a demeaning tone. You neverminded her words and handed over your pearl. A seldom look takes over your soft face. You developed a sense of attachment to the pearl–the same one your grandmother wore during her coming of age. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the price to pay for a day of something you’ll never again be able to experience. Everyone knew that the sea witch never does anything free of cost, and she was known to demand the most endearing treasures in exchange for a wish. In your case, the family pearl.

You beached yourself–just hundreds of feet affront the dark marbled castle. You drank the potion that the witch presented. Its taste did not match its appearance–what with the smooth and metallic purple liquid looking like satin, you figured it would taste similar to the essence of coral marrow. However, the taste was rather poisonous. The bitterness was too unbearable, even by immortal standards. You gripped your throat and moaned in pain as you felt yourself choking–it became harder to breathe. Not long after the consumption, you fell into a state of unconsciousness.

You felt the warm air hit your skin—you felt so dry and almost dusty. The debris of sand dust coats your skin along with satin. You inhaled the scent of dark licorice and velvet as you slowly opened your eyes–and there you saw…

“You’re awake?”

His voice was as deep as the Mariana Trench, yet the smoothness and delicate features of his face did not match. He was so beautiful–more than any God you’ve read about in the old tales scripted on stone pillars that were once residing above the ocean ground. He looked as light as air and as gentle as the shallow water. “Can you speak?” His voice goes lower as he presents a softer and more gentler tone. It wouldn’t seem possible except with you witnessing it first hand, you became a believer. How could a human look like this? Was he even human?

“M..mmm…” you moaned in pain as the after taste of the potion rests in your esophagus. Finally, you managed to spill out broken words. Out of habit, the words came out sweet and in tune of a song. Mermaids were always singing and it was the only time when your kind communicated in human languages. “My…name…”

His eyes widened for a second at the beauty of your voice soothing his ears. You tried your best to refrain from singing out your words, and barely managed. “My name is y/n.”

He couldn’t find the words to respond–at least not right away. How golden was it to hear such a voice paired with a visual sight of something as remarkable as you. “What a pretty name.”

You shyly nodded. He breaks eye contact and looks ahead as he breaches the long stairway to the grand entrance. Immediately, the court staff all greeted you and the handsome stranger. “Your majesty! Where have you gone off to? And–”

An elderly gentleman who led the group displayed a look of shock as he questioned your carrier. “Who is this?”

You watched as the handsome man raised an eyebrow and presented a strict look over to the staff member. The elder quickly bowed and lowered his sight to the ground. “My apologies to your majesty!”

“Just get her to a spare room and have the handmaidens help clean her up.”

The elder raises his head. “As you wish for your majesty.” He turns around and snaps his fingers over to the remaining crew “Quickly! Take the young lady into the castle and cover his majesty at once!”

Two women rush over and open their arms welcomingly as they watch the man lower you. From what you understand, this man was of noble blood and was rendered with only the highest respect. You’ve never seen anyone garnish such instant obedience with just a single look, it was as if they were terrified of his presence. It made you wonder if he was a cruel ruler or just overly authoritative. Your mind snaps back once you find yourself falling. “Oh my!” one of the ladies gasped as they both knelt down to aid you back up. They had good intentions, however, they presented puzzling looks when they realized that you kept falling—you couldn’t stand.

“Your majesty, is she injured? She can’t manage to stand on her own.”

The royal man merely kept watching your pitiful attempts with his hands placed firmly on his hips. He did look strict, despite being so incredibly handsome. However, once again you were caught off guard as he softly chuckled and spoke softly. “I don’t think she can walk.” his hands remained on his hips. Paired with his smirk and that deep chuckle, you found yourself feeling something deep in your gut. He was leaving such an impression on you. You suddenly felt the need to try and impress him. You looked over to one of the handmaidens with pleading eyes and grabbed her arms as you pulled yourself up. Once you felt stabilized on flat feet, you slowly released your grip. Overcoming the challenge of standing, you felt a sense of accomplishment and was too joyful to notice as the oversized satin shirt fell off your body. You didn’t think of it as odd, after all, mermaids are always presenting bare skin above the hip line. Naturally, when the handsome stranger carried you it didn’t seem abnormal for him to be shirtless. Yet, you were puzzled when the handmaidens quickly covered you and repeatedly apologized to the man for your display. He merely chuckles again and dismisses it with a subtle wave of his hand. “She’s fine. Take her to the grand room–closest to my chambers.”

They nod in obedience and quickly help you up each step. It took a while for you to gain the momentum of walking, however, the handmaidens were ever so patient. Fortunately, after repeating the motions of placing one foot in front of the other, you caught on and found yourself enjoying the simple sense of walking. “Slow down, my lady. You’ll fall again if you lose your balance!” they warned, yet that didn't stop you. This was everything you dreamed of! You walked, ran, and even jumped on occasion. The satin shirt fell off once more, yet you paid no mind. You kept going ahead with the handmaidens quickly following after begging you to come back to them to provide proper coverage.

After the adventure of the stairway, the staff collected all around–hundreds of them. The castle was enormous, considering it was on land. It was natural to find palaces underwater, since mermaids used the aid of large creatures such as whales and even mythological ones that rarely appear above the surface. But on land, there were no creatures you saw that were large or strong enough to aid in the architecture of such a grand castle. The room you were taken to was lavished with coral pink silk and satin wallpaper. A large bed and vanity rests side by side, with graceful antique furniture decorating the entire room. Large vases filled with land flowers that reflected many colors—just like the coral reef.

After submerging you in a large marbled area that they called a ‘bath’, you were dried and prepped. Every second was an experience worth looking back to when you return to the sea. You chuckled as the handmaidens combed through your hair, remarking the beautiful colored strands. They bickered over trying to ascertain which color fabric looks best with your eyes, since the rainbow hues made it difficult to pick out one solid color. Finally, they settle on a silk threaded dress adorned with floral patterns in gold, blue, green and purple. The base color was a peach and beige stain that complimented your pastel features. They fashioned your long hair with loose waves and adorned it with beautiful flowers and jewels. You sparkled and looked glamorous, and wondered if your dear sisters would ever believe this moment when you tell them.

“My! She looks more beautiful than any princess or queen I've seen.” The handmaid's all whispered around, completely amazed by your grace and polished beauty. Mermaids are known to have an ethereal appearance, however, you wondered if the tales of your kind died off and if this was the first time these humans ever saw a mermaid. You felt compelled to speak and tell them, but refrained. You reserved your tranquil voice for when you converse with the royal man who found you. He piqued your interest and you felt a sense of excitement of seeing him again.

Part Two coming soon.

Taglist: @strxwbloody • @nshmrarki • @aquariushiiiii • @addictedtohobi • @nuriicata • @lilyuwon • @aanniikkaa •

[lighthouseshepard]

felt inspired by this insanely gorgeous piece of art that i cant get out of my head by @mikonez and my hand slipped (posting it here with their permission! ❤️)

"John?" Arthur murmurs, cracking one eye slowly open. "Is that you?"

Among the haze of his vision, a blend of shifting shadows and points of flickering light like radio static made tangible, he barely makes out the figure standing at the edge of the bed. If he had half a mind more than what he currently possessed, the sight might have set his nerves on edge. As it stood, fighting against the dredges of sleep which sought to keep him under, the familiar silhouette was nothing but a cause for another kind of concern.

"John?" he asks a second time. With a mumbled groan he picks his head up off the pillow, straining to see. "Are you alright?"

The figure shifts. John steps up to the side of the bed, walking through the wide beam of moonlight piercing soft and silver through the windowpane. In its gentle illumination the long, silken strands of black hair falling across his shoulders and down his back seemed to hold a faint glow.

"Hi, Arthur," he says quietly, uncharacteristically subdued. "Did I wake you?"

Even after a week of hearing that voice aloud he couldn't get used to it. The distinct and velvety rumble of John's words was stronger outside of his own head. Kinder somehow, too. Though they no longer carried the undercurrent of an echo, something of the god remained when he spoke.

"Hmm? No, no, you didn't." Arthur holds back a yawn. "I think I was dreaming."

"Oh?" 

John drifts closer. The pajama pants and shirt they'd bought for him fit loosely on his new frame, creating the image of a man slouching uncertainly. Arthur couldn't tell if he truly was hunched or not, all six feet and more of him trying to appear as small as possible.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Honestly? I don't remember. A field of flowers, maybe. Something golden." Lifting his head further, he squints. "John, are you okay?"

Expressions on his face were surprisingly easy to read. Before they separated John theorized that he'd need to learn how to show emotion, that it wouldn't come naturally after getting his own body. His worry eventually fizzled into frustration when the opposite became true - every feeling, every fleeting thought, any inkling of desire was visible on his face from day one. He couldn't hide anything no matter how hard he tried. A lack of poker face, Arthur told him, but he failed to see how a card game came into play.

"I'm fine." He shrugs. "Couldn't sleep."

"Again?" At this Arthur props himself up on one elbow, both eyes focusing fully. "This is the third night you’ve woken up. You're not too cold, are you?"

"I don't... think so?" John replies, frowning. "I don't feel cold, anyway. If anything I'm itchy."

A flash of amusement shines in Arthur's tired smile. "I imagine clothes are going to take some getting used to, yes."

"That’s an understatement," John grumbles. He picks absently at the hem of his shirt. "I don't see why these are necessary."

"Because it's freezing outside and in, and you'll likely catch a cold without them. Plus-"

He waves him off. "I know. Societal conventions. Whatever. You're not wearing a shirt, I might add," he points out stubbornly.

"That's because I'm never cold."

"Do you even have a blanket?"

Arthur gazes up at him pointedly. "John, what's on your mind?"

Rubbing one arm with his hand, he glances down at his bare feet. Ten new fingers, ten toes. Entirely too many to deal with on top of everything else. "Like I said. I couldn't sleep."

"Right," Arthur says empathetically. His smile begins to dwindle, lips pulling downward. "I can't imagine it's an easy task, John. You are learning how to for the first time, essentially."

"Yeah, well," he huffs. "Instead of getting easier it's slipping further away from me."

"Are you still having those dreams?"

"I wouldn't call them dreams, Arthur." More along the lines of nightmares.”

"Right," Arthur repeats, mumbling. "No, of course not."

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, studying what he could of John in the moonlight. Although his sight had yet to return fully, the slow progress was enough of a lifeline to keep him at ease, for now. Neither could have predicted how the ritual would turn out, and for them to both emerge alive, first and foremost, was an odd little cosmic blessing in itself.

After a week John was still adjusting. Arthur didn't blame him in the slightest, but the empathy he felt for his situation wasn't always well received. John, so far at least, tended to misconstrue it as pity regardless of how many assurances he was given. 

As Arthur gazes up at him, he notes two things: among the frustration worrying a crease into his brow, another more poignant emotion lingered underneath, so far removed from what shape he knew longing to take that it swung all the way back around into desperation; and John, arms now crossed along his torso, was shivering.

"John, you're - come here," Arthur says without a second thought. "Take my blanket, take something. Where's yours?"

"In the other room." Hesitantly he sits on the edge of the bed. A body still so weak from all it had endured made for difficult navigation. Muscles and limbs he was figuring out how to control never seemed to want to bend easily to his will.

"Why didn't you bring it with you? You’re clearly freezing."

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to be near you."

"Oh."

In the silver tinted darkness, he reaches out a hand. At the touch on his arm John startles, glancing down. He doesn’t pull away.

"Listen, John," Arthur says quietly, "why don't you just stay here tonight?"

"What?"

"Stay here with me. There's plenty of room. You're tall, yes, but you aren't going to fall off the end. It might... help, that's all. And-"

He swallows. "Truthfully, I miss you over there."

The offer doesn't sit so much as float between them, a gauzy, gentle thing. John studies Arthur's face, all his various scars, the hint of gold in his gaze now subtler for his absence. How peculiar for those features he knew better than the ones he had now to be reversed, no longer viewed from behind a mirror’s reflection.

"Okay," he says simply.

John leans forward, stretching out over him. Wide eyes follow his movements, lips parted slightly in a question Arthur couldn't quite get out, but he doesn't dare move. Long legs straddle just below his waist, forcing his head back down onto the pillow. Sections of silken hair slip forward off John's shoulders as he comes into view, hovering over Arthur with a kind of familiarity and trust that leaves them both a little breathless. One hand cradles his cheek, and Arthur feels his own slip unthinkingly beneath the fabric of John's shirt to splay steadily along the warmth of his stomach.

"Hey," Arthur whispers, smiling. "When I said stay here, I didn't mean on top of me."

"You didn't tell me not to, though," John hums. A thumb brushes across Arthur's jaw. "You're warm."

"And suffocating.” 

“Mm. Do you want me to move?’

 Breath not his own whispers against his mouth. Their faces were only inches apart. It would be so easy to kiss him now, he thinks, repeat the way they’d all but crashed against each other upon coming out from that ritual weak and coughing but alive, not thinking anything save for the gratitude they couldn't figure out how else to express.

They hadn't talked about it afterwards, too focused on the everything which came after. Arthur wonders if he would taste any differently fresh out of a bad dream, settled somewhat into new limbs. He stares up in abstract wonder, hoping one day soon he would be able to see the person above him with enough clarity to fully appreciate what hard won circumstance gave them both. 

“Arthur?” John asks. His voice drops to a low rumble, expression searching and hopeful. Though he looked just as exhausted as Arthur felt, a quiet fire was beginning to brim behind his eyes.

“What?” he stutters out. “Sorry, John.”

“I asked if you wanted me to move.” That caressing hand drifts upwards, brushing through auburn hair mussed from sleep. “Is this okay? I don't want to go back to the other room.”

“No, John, it's - no, wait, don't go!” He grips John’s hip with a force that startles them both when he begins to pull away. “I meant no, you don't have to go back. You can stay here. It's okay,” he adds, pulse a flutter caught in his throat. “It's alright.” 

John exhales in relief. “Thanks. I, um… I fucking hate it, Arthur,” he admits softly. “Not having you next to me, I mean. It doesn't feel right, sleeping alone. Not that sleeping overall feels right, but…”

“Yeah, John,” Arthur sighs, “it doesn't feel the same to me, either.”

“Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you kiss me again?” 

“I - what?”

A body starved for connection from the first moment of its tangible conception lays out along him, chest flush to his own scarred torso. Parts of John felt only in passing were suddenly closer than they ever had been previously: knees on either side of his thighs, a waist he grasped with both hands, arms and elbows and a brief glimpse of collarbone from beneath the shirt slipping off one shoulder. All the indelicate human pieces which comprised someone distinctly inhuman pressed against him, imbued with a fervency reminiscent of an ocean trying to return to the droplet from where it first originated - and it aches.

Arthur answers his question.

It’s nothing like the first, yet still an inkling of similar desperation colors the way their lips meet. They don’t collide so much as come together solidly in the middle, both tilting their heads forward to close the few inches that remained. John’s mouth is warm and firm, his hesitation lasting for only a second, and Arthur kisses him with as much conviction as he can muster without losing himself in the process. His arms move from John’s hips to wrap around his back, pulling him closer still. When they part by necessity for breath alone, each gasping quietly into the dim, Arthur struggles to speak.

“Yeah,” he rasps out. “You can stay, John. I don’t - I don’t want you sleeping anywhere else from now on.”

John grins down at him. “Good,” he says, and leans in anew. 

[starryhyuck]

fire hazard. (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: firefighters!nomin x afab!baker!reader

words: 5.1k+

summary: setting off most of the town fires comes with its fair share of judgment. maybe two of the local firemen can teach you a lesson.

genre: smut

warnings: mentions of arson, throat fucking, facial, car sex, spitting, degradation, double penetration, fingering, spanking, creampies, sex in a fire truck (woop woop!), anal sex, squirting, breeding kink, pregnancy

this fic is exclusive to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

Being questioned for committing arson is not an ideal scenario for you on a Thursday morning.

“I told you. Didn’t I tell you?” Renjun screeches in your ear. You roll your eyes and tug the blanket over your shoulders tighter around yourself. The detective in front of you raises an eyebrow at your back and forth. “If you set the temperature too high and neglect the cookies for the brownies, it’ll set a fire! But no, you laughed at me and told me I was crazy!”

The detective clears his throat, the badge pinned to his chest reading Mark Lee. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir, but we have to investigate due to the timing of the fire. My colleague tells me that there was another fire in this building last week, is that correct?”

You watch as a group of firefighters walk out of your building, chuckling to themselves. It’s pitiful that you can say you recognize all their faces from how frequently you see them. The other residents of the building glare at you, burdened by being awakened at the crack of dawn due to another incident caused by you and your roommate.

“We’re bakers, we bake,” Renjun retorts, snippy as the sun peeks over the horizon. He’s never been a morning person, but you figure you’ll let the detective figure that out for himself. “That’s not a crime. What is a crime is how this one refuses to listen to my instruction despite my clear outline.”

He points his finger to you and you huff, staring down at your bunny slippers. “I would listen to your instructions if you weren’t a nagging bitch all the time,” you grumble, and you know Renjun would pin you down to the concrete if there wasn’t an officer of law in front of him right now.

“Plus, this building is owned by my father,” Renjun says. “There is no reason for us to purposefully burn it down.”

“Actually, sir, most of our arson crimes originate from people attempting to receive insurance money. Some landlords do so with the intent of taking the money to build a more extravagant lot at less of a cost.”

You roll your eyes again. “Look, detective, I’m sure they pay you well enough at whatever shithole department you crawled out of. But my roommate and I have no intention of committing arson in our home. We’re just shit bakers trying to open a bakery on a shit budget.”

Mark’s eyes narrow at your degrading comments but he says nothing else, closing his tiny notebook and stuffing it underneath his arm. “Very well then. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you two. If there are any other reports of a fire in this area, I guarantee you it’ll be the first thing across my desk.”

“Good for you,” you reply snarkily and he stares at you like he wishes you would be set on fire next. Renjun isn’t much help either, glaring at the man until he’s back inside his car.

Jeno and Jaemin, two of the local firefighters, approach you with raised eyebrows. “I thought after last week, you swore you had a handle on dividing the work,” Jaemin says in amusement, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair.

They’re both wearing dark blue shirts with baggy pants connected by suspenders, looking like a wet dream even this early in the morning. Your attitude takes a complete turn from how you were originally speaking with Mark.

“Baking is just so hard,” you say, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. Renjun rolls his eyes when he sees you drooling over how Jeno and Jaemin’s muscles strain against their t-shirts. “I’ll drop by tomorrow and give you boys a thank you batch for your hard work.”

Jeno’s eyes sweep down your form, greedily drinking up the way your nipples poke through the fabric of your thin tank top. “No need, ma’am. We’re simply fulfilling our civic duty,” he says, and you wonder how much he’s packing underneath his uniform.

“Just don’t start any more fires, you hear?” Jaemin murmurs, winking at you and grinning.

You giggle into your palm and Renjun gives up on you, striding back into the building without another word.

“I promise. No more fires.”

want to read the rest? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

[detectivestucks]

Akatsuki Concubine I

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Tobi x F!Reader x Konan

Summery: Coming from a poor background you were sold to the pleasure house at a young age even though your dream was to one day be a shinobi. Instead, as you grew up, your mistress got tired of your attitude and sold you to the first duo who asked. These two were none other than members of the formidable Akatsuki.

Warnings: NSFW, DubCon, Female receiving oral, threats of violence,

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is an AU where all the Akatsuki members are alive and together. New mini-series. More parts coming soon.

Sold to the pleasure house at a young age, you were familiar with a life whose path is set for them. You knew you were to serve noble men and their kinks before being sold and married off to the highest bidder. Only you weren’t one to be touched against your will. You had always wanted to become a ninja but you weren’t born into a shinobi family. You were born into a poor family who couldn’t afford to keep their only child. So you read and you practiced, all by yourself. Every day, from the time you were young till now, you centered your chakra, allowing it to flow from point to point. Feeling its life-giving strength fuel your power. You developed what you read was an unusual combination of Fire and Water style jutsus. Your favorite one to use was phoenix flower jutsu. The balls of fire dancing in the space between you and the latest toolbag who tried to touch what he didn’t pay for always made you feel protected. Little did you know it couldn’t protect you from everyone.

Back at the Akatsuki hideout, the crew was getting rowdier than ever. Constant missions had kept everyone apart for months but the burnout was obvious so their leader, Tobi, assigned missions closer to home. The issue is that a band of ruthless shinobi such as the Akatsuki don’t do well within close quarters. 

“Give back my detonating clay!”

“Nice try blondie. I know you were in my room trying to steal Samehada last night. She told me so.”

“Was not!”

“As if I believe you. Maybe I’ll feed this to Samehada, see if she’s as good of an ‘artist’ as you.”

“Wait! I need that for my art!” 

“Psh, you speak of art as if it’s your god. Come to the way of Joshin and you’ll never worry about your silly art again.”

“SHUT IT Hidan!”

“Or what?! Wanna become Joshin’s next sacrifice!”

The purple-haired man swings his scythe at the young artist when the tall shark-like swordsman snatches up the boy by his long blonde strands. 

“Hey! Let go or I’ll-”

“-What, kill me?”

“All three of you need to shut up! When’s our next mission so I don’t have to suffer you idiots?”

“Sasuke, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say to your brethren.”

“Not now, older brother.” he retorts with a pinch to his nose. Soon a half white, half black figure pops into the room.

“Can someone tell me what it’s like to poo?”

“Ah, gross Zetzu! Why’d ya have to bring that up again?!”

“Well, when someone answers the question, maybe I’ll stop.”

“ENOUGH!”

The voice was deep and commanding. An orange-masked man rounds the corner in his scarlet clouded cloak and all members fall silent.

“You are shinobi of an elite organization. Act like it.” 

The man named Tobi strides through the room catching Pain on his way out. 

“Pain, Konan, come.”

A tall orange haired man with a face littered in piercings and a slender woman with a paper flower in her hair follow behind into a spare room. 

“These idiots are always bickering.” Tobi’s baritone states with exhaustion.

“They’re bored sir.”

“I give them respite and they thank me by acting like a bunch of children.”

“Maybe they need something to do…or a way to blow off steam.” Konan defends

“They should be training.” Pain says with a firm nod.

“...or…uh, I…nevermind.”

“Out with it woman.” Tobi’s words spit out like venom.

“Maybe they have…urges…to release?”

“Oh they do, do they?” Tobi presses “Are you speaking from experience?”

With flushed cheeks Konan’s lashes fall.

“That’s what I thought.” Tobi looks towards Pain, “You’re dismissed.”

Both shinobi turn to leave when the deep voice speaks up again, “Where are you going?”

A slender hand raises to tuck lavender strands behind one ear. “You said we were dismissed.”

“No, I said he was dismissed. You haven’t finished serving your purpose.”

With a thick swallow, Konan stands up straight and turns back towards Tobi. “What do you need?” 

With each word he steps forward.“Tell me more about these urges? How do you suggest we satisfy them?”

With one more swallow, Konan finds her composure “I would suggest concubines sir.”

“Concubines, eh?”

“Yes, I believe there are several pleasure houses in the nearby village.”

“Good, I want you to check them out.”

“Check them out?”

“Yes, find some pretty merchandise for your comrades.”

“Don’t you think you should vet them first? You’ve been so picky with who you’ve let into this organization and these girls will be privy to our secrets.”

Tobi muses to himself before agreeing. “We’ll do reconnaissance tomorrow.”

You finish your supper as your lady enters the room. “House is busy tonight. You’re taking the next caller.”

“I’m not putting up with any funny business.”

“Try to be desirable for a change. And stop scaring away the customers.”

“They’re dreadful and disgusting.”

“And pay well”

You scoff at her. “I’ll be in my room.”

“You scare off one more customer and I’m selling you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time!” you call over your shoulder as you walk to your room in a huff. You wish to slam the door as hard as possible but she was right, you could hear your sisters all working. The sounds of men groaning come from every corner of the house and it would be unwise to create a ruckus on such a bustling evening. 

You sit at your looking glass and brush out your hair. You allow it to fall down your back and tickle your neck before you lean forward to apply a small dusting of blush and smear rice water cream over your lips to soften them. Just as you finish, you hear your door begin to open. You look up to a stout man entering your room and raking in your appearance with obvious hunger. You felt your stomach tighten at the thought of entertaining him but you plastered on a sweet simper and move to sit on the mattress, patting the place next to you. 

Meanwhile downstairs Konan approaches your misses.

“Excuse me ma’am. Would you happen to be selling any of your girls?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I am.” Tobi’s tenor voice crashes over the lady as her mouth falls open in fear upon seeing the masked man with the glowing red eye. She realizes her state and quickly closes her mouth while wiping her hands on the front of her dress. “No, I am not selling any of my girls.”

Across the home you hear a man shouting in terror “FIRE! FIRE! HELP THERE’S A FIRE”

“...Except for that one.” she finishes with rage.

Tobi and Konan immediately head towards the shouting to check on the source of the commotion. Upon entering the room they see a beautiful young woman with hair fallen around her face and a disheveled kimono open in the front, exposing both breasts and her pelvis.

“Oh relax” you say, weaving hand signs for your water style cannon to extinguish your phoenix flowers. “Now go, and don’t come back. We don’t need your type around here.”

“Yes we do!” your mistress chimes in, pushing Tobi and Konan to the side to scold you for your behavior.

“No we don’t! He’s a pig! And who the hell are they?!” you say gesturing towards the cloaked shinobi.

“Your next customer”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well that’s too bad cause they intend on purchasing your worthless hide.”

“Like hell they’ll take me.”

You weave the tiger sign to once more scare away these newcomers with your phoenix flower flames only to be met with a ginormous fireball to the face. Quickly you switch your jutsu to water style to combat the masked stranger when he voluntarily stops. 

Your hair falls in your suddenly sweaty face as you gauge the man before you. 

“My, my. Aren’t we a feisty one? And a user of ninjutsu as well. That’s a first.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Well too bad for you because I am. Konan, give the lady the money.”

“Good, take this ungrateful slut off my hands. Maybe you can knock some sense into her. I don’t need my house set ablaze every other day. I’m done.”

You feel your chest constrict with anger and sadness. To be cast aside, demoted to the value of a coin, yet again, and be forced to go to a new home once more. What’s more, is your tricks won't work on this one. He can out master your flames. You give a panicked look to the one with a paper flower atop her head before your teary eyes stare up into the dark hole of the orange mask. 

A gloved hand glides up and cups the bottom of your chin, “Don’t get soft on me now kitten. I enjoy the spark.”

You rip your face away from his hand but he grabs you by the arm. “Konan, test her out for me, please. If you like her we’ll keep her, if you don’t we’ll kill her.”

The sadness in your heart quickly spins to fear as you realize how dangerous your new owner must be. 

“But sir-”

“You said you had pent up urges.”

“I-”

“What? Were you going to ride the face of that Pain puppet? That seems a bit chilly, don’t you think? Why not try someone with a little more body heat?”

The pain and insult were obvious on Konan's face but she did as she was told and approached you. 

With cold and hooded eyes she demands, “Knees.”

You swallow, remembering his words. There was no way out of this one. You were going to have to do what you were trained for and earn your keep…along with your life.

‘You’re the whore; you know what to do” 

Your hands rifle past the noir cloak and find the ties of her pants. You pull the skin tight spandex down past her knees and gently lift her leg to tenderly slide the fabric over her ankle and off her foot.

The pants now removed, your hands hold open the front of her cloak similar to your open kimono. You lift yourself off the heels of your feet and bring your mouth to the front of her cotton panties. You kiss her heat over the cloth before your teeth find the waistband and pull down. 

“Good girl.” you hear the masked man purr from the entrance of the room. 

One hand slides under the thick bamboo fabric of the scarlet and black cloak to graze over her cheek and sink your fingers into the soft flesh of her behind while your other hand wanders up her pale inner thigh, finding her labia and slipping two fingers up into her slit.

Grip tightening on the muscle of her rear, your fingers thrust in and out, hooking inside her squishy insides, feeling how they tighten around your digits. Once she gasps you pull them out and look up at her face before wrapping your lips around your fingers and sucking them clean. The taste was sweet, almost like a baked treat and your lids flutter slightly before she grabs a large section of your hair and pulls you up to your feet.

“Arms folded behind you and lay down on your back.”

You do as she instructs and find her crawling up on the mattress to straddle your face. Her robes fall over your head and you are plunged into darkness, completely blinded by the cloak.

As her weight pushes against your face, you open your mouth to kitten lick at her entrance made wet by your foreplay. 

Just as you open wider to sink your tongue between her lips she reaches back and pinches your nipples earning a cry from you that vibrates against her folds. A satisfied hum can be heard from the place where the masked man stood and you knew he approved.

You jab your tongue out as far as you can and stroke forward inside her heat, slurping up her juices with loud wet sounds. Her hips rut against your face as satisfied signs leave Konan’s chest. You wrap your lips around her little nub at the front of her entrance and rub the tip of your tongue back and forth along the bump. 

Her legs close around your head before suddenly releasing. She repositions herself so that she is facing down your body rather than towards the head of the bed and as she sits back down, your nose prods against the crevice between her cheeks. 

With better access to her swollen bud you seal the perky tip between your pillowy lips and suck. Her thighs squeeze against your body and she weaves hand signs so that two paper butterflies appear and fold into clips. They flutter towards your nipples and you feel their wings brush against your skin before the clip on their bellies opens and traps your sore nipples between them. 

You squirm and whine at the discomfort but really it causes you to clench around nothing. Your legs kick out feeling desperate to get up but your mouth obediently continues to pet her clit. 

Konan lifts her hand and brings it down harshly between your legs, slapping your folds and protruding clit. 

You scream, the vibrations tickling between her legs causing her to lower more of her weight onto your head. Your legs snap closed. “No you don’t.” she says smooth as butter. Grabbing one of your legs in her arms, she holds your leg against her chest and continues her assault on your folds. 

Her rutting against your face as you scream causes the noises to come out muffled and broken which only makes Tobi’s member stiffen in his pants. The spectacle of your squirming beneath his comrade mesmerized him and he knew he wanted you to himself. 

You open your mouth wide to drag your tongue all the way from the hood of her clit, along the front of her entrance and point it as it enters her heat where you dance it in and out of her hole causing her to fall forward and rest her weight on the hand pushing into your waist. 

The butterfly clips attached to the tips of your breasts tightened the more you please the female ninja, who eventually falls all the way forward and returns the favor, sucking on your own swollen nub till your legs shake with pleasure. 

The harder she sucked, the harder you sucked, till you feel her gush on your face and both of you collapse from orgasm. She dismounts, panting from the feeling and nods at her masked counterpart. “This one will do.”

“Well, well, looks like you’re coming with us after all.”

Before you had a moment to realize the meaning of his words you feel yourself being pulled forward and suddenly you are in a dark gray abyss filled with large chunky blocks. You look around realizing it is just you, naked, aside from your small kimono that you pull over your shoulders for comfort. You are standing there alone, all by yourself, with no idea where you are or how you got there.

Masterlist

Coming Soon:

Part 2: The New Master

Part 3: The Uchiha Slut

[synamartia]

“ No Strings Attached . . . „

“ I'll have you begging for more . . . „

synopsis ┊ ◜ You always dreamed of having a family of your own; the loving spouse, a couple of kids, maybe a pet or two - the whole nine yards. After spending years being unable to find a suitable match, and with your biological clock ticking, you decide to cut out the loving spouse and skip straight ahead to parenthood on your own. But when you discover how expensive alternative family planning methods can be, you're convinced by a friend to let a donor impregnate you the old-fashioned way - no strings attached . . . ◞ wc ┊ ◜ 6,817 ◞ warnings ┊ ◜ Adam x Reader ✧ Afab!Reader ✧ No pronouns or Y/N used ✧ Human!AU ✧ Explicit / 18+ Only / MDNI ✧ Sexual situations ✧ Breeding kink ✧ Dirty talk (you will never convince me that Adam is the quiet type in bed) ✧ Unprotected sex ✧ Creampie ✧ Prostitution (if you squint real hard) ✧ Teeny mentions of roofies and sexual assault (dialogue only; no actions) ✧ Sexting ✧ Vaginal fingering◞ notes ┊ ◜ I had so much trouble trying to figure out who fit this prompt best, and as much as I would love to have a bit more variety in my fics, my heart keeps leading me back to Adam. Go check out our masterlist and be sure to show how much you appreciate all the hard work my lovely wives are putting into this collab~! They're working their asses off to feed us so well - let them know how thankful you are for their dedication to the provisions of our wet dreams~! <3 ◞ links ┊ ◜ syn's masterlist ✧ coven kinktober 2024 ◞

"... and then this fucktard decides he's gonna hop up on stage and try to take my guitar from me in the middle of my fucking set!"

The loud exclamation had you looking around the restaurant, searching for its origin when you noticed the silvery coiffure of your friend at the end of the bar. You raised your hand up in hopes of catching her attention as you tried to squeeze through the small crowd, the buzzing noise of multiple conversations going on all at once drowning out the anxious thoughts racing through your head. "Lute, hey!" you called, weaving around tables and bodies alike when you realized that she wasn't alone.

Sitting on one of the stools was your long-time friend, Lute, and a rather stout, burly looking man in the adjacent seat. Even sitting, it was obvious he was tall, especially when compared to the much smaller frame of your friend. He had a sharp face, his jaw chiseled and nose straight, with skin smooth and free of blemishes save for the cropped patch of facial hair on his pointed chin. His tousled hair was a soft walnut brown, a short shag cut slicked back with a few loose strands hanging down over his forehead. His smile was wide, thin lips stretching across a straight row of pearly white teeth, with lines that told a story of a man that laughed and smiled often.

And his eyes - oh, those eyes. They were narrowed with a hunter's shape, a deep hazel brown with flecks of gold that beckoned you closer with nothing more than a wink and a smile the moment you caught his attention.

By all accounts, he was an attractive man. Under different circumstances, you would have asked Lute to set you up on a legitimate date, see if his personality was as smooth as his appearance.

The closer your feet dragged you to the table, the quicker your heart began to beat at the thought of going through with this. Swallowing hard, you had half a mind to turn right around and walk out, to back out of this meeting she had set up for you and go back to your original plan of finding a suitable life partner. But the thought of going through another string of first dates with someone giving you back-handed compliments all night helped you to steel your resolve and follow through.

"There you are. I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up or not," Lute spoke, pulling you from your thoughts as you approached the bar, heart pounding in your ears as you clutched the strap of your bag close.

"Huh? O-oh, yeah. Right... Sorry, traffic was a bitch. I left fifteen minutes early, but there was an accident on the freeway, so it was very stop and go for a while," you explained with a sheepish grin, sliding your bag over your head and slipping onto the stool next to Lute.

"Oh, tell me about it. I live near Main, ain't no such thing as calm in that hellhole. Always gotta leave at least thirty minutes sooner just to get out of the area," the man spoke, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "And that's on foot. Don't even think about it if you're in a fucking car. Trying to drive down there is a total shit show."

You laughed, silently cursing yourself for your subconscious desire for pathological niceties as you waited to be introduced, anxiety levels making it near impossible for you to say anything else in that moment.

"Yeah, yeah, traffic sucks, whatever," Lute dismissed the topic quickly, pointing a finger at Adam while staring at you. "This is Adam, my boss. He's the guy I was telling you about," she introduced him to you, then you to him as the bartender set a row of three shots down in front of her.

Reaching a hand across Lute, Adam flashed you a cocky smile as you shook it up and down. "Nice to meet ya," he said, reaching for one of the shots and downing it quickly before your friend could protest. Glaring harshly at the much larger man, Lute picked up the remaining two shots and threw them both back before standing up. "Can't believe I set this shit up. Both of you owe me big time," she said, voice laced with annoyance before turning around to make her exit and leaving you flabbergasted at the curt audacity.

You watched as she walked out of the restaurant, the bustle of patrons and work-staff soon swallowing her figure and shielding her from your line of sight. Biting into your bottom lip, you shyly turned back to Adam, unsure of where to begin.

"Well then," he started, shaking his head as you moved to the stool Lute had previously occupied. "I can't say her behavior is surprising. She's always been like that - very short and to the point. Can't say I blame her though; this is a weird ass topic to play third wheel to."

"Hah! Yeah, she can be a real bitch sometimes, but she's still good people. Just... very blunt," you responded, watching as he twisted back and forth on the stool, almost like a child playing with a swivel chair. It was a cute scene, especially for someone with such a no-nonsense type of appearance. Adam raised a hand to call the bartender back over before turning back to you, nodding his head to the assortment of liquors behind the bar. "What'cha drinking? My treat."

"Oh, I'm not drinking," you started. "I can't anyway. I don't have anyone to come pick me up," you explained with a sheepish grin, to which Adam rolled his eyes once more and turned to look at the person on the other side of the bar. "Don't worry about that shit, babe. I'll pay for a taxi if you get too wasted," he reassured you, flashing you a charming smile before ordering a drink you'd never heard of before. It must have been a specialty at this place.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from protesting. As much as you wanted this meeting to be purely transactional, the nature of the topic at hand had frayed every single one of your nerves and left you feeling too embarrassed to look him in the eye - a drink could come in handy and make things a little less awkward. When the bartender set the unknown drink before you, Adam raised a single brow at the uncertainty ever present on your soft features as you simply eyed the glass, leaning forward just enough for you to catch him in your peripheral vision.

"What's the matter? You think I'm gonna try to drug you or take advantage of you?" he asked as you continued to weigh the pros and cons of having a drink with your potential sperm donor. You couldn't help but laugh at the idea of him attempting to slip you something. It was probably a naive thing for you to do by assuming a complete stranger wouldn't try to harm you just because you were here to discuss a deal bordering on prostitution. But Lute had assured you again and again during the days leading up to this meeting that Adam wasn't that type of guy - he was a douche without a filter, sure, but forcing himself on someone while they were vulnerable wasn't his style.

"No. There's no point in doing any of that," waving a hand in the air to dismiss the notion as you reached for the cocktail he had ordered for you, taking a small swig from the glass. "Besides, if Lute trusts you, then you're good in my book."

Adam nodded his head, his grin widening a bit as he placed a hand on his chest. "You flatter me, babe. Where has she been hiding such a pretty little thing like you?" he flirted, eyeing you up and down momentarily as you set the drink down after you remembered why you were here in the first place. Reaching into your bag to pull out a vanilla folder and sliding it to him, you didn't beat around the bush, pushing aside social conventions of small talk and pleasantries. This meeting was meant to be strictly business in nature, so the less words you exchanged with each other, the better. "No small talk? Right down to business, I see. No wonder you two're friends," he added as he reached for the similar looking file sitting on top of the bar.

"Yeah, sorry. I've wasted too much time in the dating pool with nothing to show for it. I'd rather just skip that part now."

"Hey, it's all good. I get it," Adam raised his hands defensively for a moment before pulling out the pre-drafted contract you had passed him and skimming over the first page. He never really bothered to read these things - the legalize was always so confusing, and even when he did read it, his chances of understanding any of it was very low. "Saves me the trouble of trying to impress you to get into your pants later," he joked, to which you laughed back.

Already you were beginning to feel at ease around Adam - though you weren't sure if it was because of his apparent easy-going personality or the drink you were nursing, its fruity taste lingering on the tip of your tongue after each sip. He seemed nice enough. Maybe getting to know him wouldn't be so bad.

'Nope. This isn't a date, date. Can't let myself get distracted,' you told yourself as you pulled the contents of his records out to go over them, searching for the other shoe before it had a chance to drop. Things never went this smoothly for you - if they did, you wouldn't be here trying to pay a complete stranger to fuck a baby into you. Part of you hoped there wasn't one, but experience had taught you there always was - it was more about how big said shoe was going to be. And, based on his looks and his charismatic personality (or what you've seen of it, anyway), it had to be a pretty damn big one.

"So, that's all the medical documents you needed to see. Genetic test results, family history, my last physical, sperm count and all that shit, blah blah blah," Adam explained, waving his hand in the air as he flipped to the next page of the contract. From what he was able to understand so far, there was nothing in it that he had a problem with.

It was a pretty cut and dry contract, detailing the transaction and individual responsibilities of each party along with waivers to parental rights and financial liabilities, dates for when conception should be attempted and how often it should occur. "Everything's looking good over here so far- ... wow, you're a retired veteran? I would have never pegged you for the commander type, you seem so chill," you spoke, glancing up from the paperwork when Adam chuckled at your response.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. It's been years since I was honorably discharged though, so I've had some time to fall out of the stricter regime of military life," Adam explained to you as he flipped to the third page, skimming over the first couple of paragraphs when his eyes zeroed in on one particular clause. Turning to you, he leaned in closer and pointed at the section in question. "You said you wanted this to be a no strings attached type of thing, but this part's gonna make it really fucking boring. The sex is the fun part, so why put restrictions like no foreplay or kissing?" he asked, his voice just a tad louder than necessary and calling the attention of a couple nearby.

Your cheeks heated up when you noticed them staring, lowering your head as you leaned even closer to Adam and whispered, "Shh, keep it down! It's just to make sure things don't get too complicated, is all," you explained, bringing the papers up to hide your face before continuing on. "And besides, I've never had a partner that's made me... you know..." you trailed off shyly, face burning even hotter when you noticed the smirk now plastered on his chiseled features and his laughter flooded your ears, cursing yourself for agreeing to do this in public.

"What's so funny?" you asked when, even after several seconds, his laughter showed no signs of dying down. The embarrassment of such a revelation as well as his laughing was beginning to sting, and the eyes you could feel were glued to your back only made it that much worse. Setting the papers down on the bar top, Adam covered his mouth with one hand and waved the other in the air, trying to stifle his laughter before you could walk out on him then and there.

"I'm sorry, really. I'm not laughing at you, I promise. I'm laughing at those fucking losers that couldn't get you off. It's just- it's so fucking sad," he said in between each breath, his laughter finally dying out before he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning closer so that only you could hear him this time. "Because if it were me, I wouldn't have let you leave the bed until I made you cum on my face at least three times," his voice low and husky, his smirk wide and arrogant as he pulled away. Bringing a hand up to rest his chin against his palm, Adam discreetly stuck his tongue out between two fingers and rapidly wiggled the tip up and down when no one was looking, reveling in the squeak you let out as you tried to cover your face once more.

"Oh my god," you mumbled, hiding your crimson red face behind the documents he had provided you, rubbing your thighs together for some much-needed friction as a damp wetness began to pool between your legs. Adam stared at you for a couple more seconds before he reached for the nearby pen you had clipped to the vanilla envelope. "Save the flattery for after I've made you see heaven, babe," he told you, drawing a line through that particular clause. He then reached for the papers you were hiding behind, pulling them down until they rested flat on the bar top and scribbled something at the top of the page you had been reading.

"Here's my number; I can get yours from Lute. I'll have a lawyer look this over, and we can meet up to make it official after," he promised, handing the pen back to you before leaning in to place a lingering kiss to your left cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your mouth. With another wink of his golden flecked hues, Adam stood up to his full height, giving you a complete idea of just how massive he actually was while tossing some money down for both the drinks and the taxi he had promised you, turning to leave a couple seconds later.

"Be seeing you real soon, sweetheart."

...

Wait, what just happened?

A couple of weeks had gone by since your first meeting, and you had yet to hear from Adam. You couldn't keep him off your mind after that day at the bar, the way he looked at you and how he spoke, his voice thick with honey as he promised to make you see heaven over and over again. Anxious for the contract signing and curious to see if he really could, you found yourself scrolling through his social media during your down time and typing out lengthy messages detailing everything you wanted him to do to you with lewd photos of yourself attached, only to delete it all before pressing send.

With each day that passed, your desire to see him again was getting stronger, turning more desperate with every night he appeared in your dreams. It was becoming borderline obsessive, but it never went further than staring at his picture or watching videos of him when you were touching yourself, imagining it was his hands that were pleasuring you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he pounded into you from behind.

It was ridiculous how easily he managed to wrap you around his finger with just a single line and a wink.

Even now, sitting at your work desk and filling out paperwork, you found Adam worming his way to the front of your mind, sapping your concentration as the voices of your coworkers went in one ear and out the other. Eventually, the words you were writing began to shift to illegible scribbles as you closed your eyes, wondering what he could be doing right now. You felt a sharp pang in your chest when you considered the idea he may have lost interest in your deal, and that was why he hasn't contacted you yet.

Sighing heavily, you slammed your pen down on the desk and reached for your phone, finding his contact immediately. Your patience was running thin at this point. If he did lose interest, why didn't he at the very least message you so that you didn't dwell on him any longer? The whole point of this was to beat the clock, and he was wasting your precious time with his radio silence. And on top of that, you were ovulating, your hormones running rampant and leaving you in a perpetual state of emotional chaos. Ready to give him a piece of your mind, you began to type away furiously while struggling to hold back your tears, teeth sinking into the side of your cheek and leg bouncing rapidly beneath your desk.

But just as you were about to press send, your phone beeped, a new message from Adam popping up as your finger hovered over the send button. Part of you wanted to send the message anyway and not bother to hear his explanation for his ghosting you, but as per usual, your hormones seemed to run the show during this stage in your cycle. You couldn't help yourself.

Scrolling up until the text box was just a singular line, you checked the message he had just sent you. When you opened the attachment, you slammed your phone down the second you saw the picture, making your nearby coworkers jump at the sudden noise. "... You okay?" one asked after a few seconds of silence passed and you hadn't made a single attempt to explain your sudden movements yet. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, you nodded slowly as you looked down, wrapping an arm around your lower abdomen as you tried to play it off as menstrual cramps.

"I'm okay! Just cramping a bit, I think I might be on my period," you hurriedly explained as you reached for your purse, not sparing another second for them to ask further questions as you rushed off to the bathroom. "I'm going to lunch! Be back soon!" you exclaimed, your words barely reaching the rest of the group as you had already put a considerable amount of distance between you in your rush for privacy.

Once you reached the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the privacy stalls, you unlocked your phone again to get a better look at the picture Adam had sent you. Heart pounding in your ears and heat pooling within the gusset of your panties, you studied the shape of his nude body, cursing the redrafted contract he had used to cover up his cock, that arrogant crooked smirk that has haunted your dreams present as he looked directly into the camera.

A: Lawyer's done reviewing the contract. U ready to sign? 😘

With a whine, you hastily deleted your lengthy rage fueled rant from before, instead choosing to send a much shorter response,

Y: Yes!! When and where?? ❤️‍🔥 A: Are you free rn??? I can meet u at the notary's office in 20 Y: Sounds good!! Just went on break, be there soon!

You couldn't control the excited squeal that escaped your throat as you reached for the lock on the stall. Before you could unlock the door though, you stepped back and set both your purse and phone down on the mounted toilet paper rack.

Without thinking about it at all, you reached to pull your hair down and undo your shirt to reveal the lace bra you wore underneath and bunching your skirt around your waist so that your matching panties were showing as well. You picked your phone back up and opened your camera, trying not to think about it so as to avoid losing the confidence to follow through on teasing him back. You took a few snapshots of your scantily clad figure - squeezing your breast in one; dipping your hand beneath the fabric of your panties in another; and taking a few of your bare pussy for good measure, careful not to show your whole face in any of them.

Before you could change your mind, you sent a couple of the best shots you were able to get, setting your phone back down the second the 'sent' note popped up above the images. As you were redressing yourself and raking your hands through your hair to pull it back up, your phone dinged with a new message from Adam lighting up the screen.

A: 🍆💦💦💦 A: Fuck that's hot A: Want you to shove your tits in my face while you ride my dick A: Gonna stuff that pretty pussy so full with my cum baby

Your phone dinged again at the arrival of a new message with an attachment - a video this time. Reaching for your purse, you searched for the earbuds you carried with you, quickly popping them in after making sure the bluetooth was connected and the audio wouldn't play out loud before you opened the attachment.

Slapping a hand over your mouth to stifle a moan of excitement, you watched as Adam slowly pumped his hand along his girth, using the precum that dribbled from his tip as a lubricant, breathy moans coming through your earbuds and making your heart race. If you weren't on a clock right now, you would have stripped back down and fired back with a video of your own.

Unfortunately, you were at work, and in the public bathroom no less. You couldn't do something like that here, lest someone walk in and hear the noises you would make just to torture him a bit more.

Y: Promise? 🥺 A: Ofc ❤️‍🔥 Hurry up and get here. Can't wait much longer, need to feel your pussy gush on my cock Y: omw 🫦💦

You had never sprinted to a car so fast in your adult life.

"... Alright, everything looks to be in order. You both signed, initialed, showed your IDs," the notary seemed to drone on forever, her voice high and nasally as you squirmed in your chair, anxious to get through the signing process. Adam didn't seem bothered at all as he sat next to you, face calm and collected save for that ever-present smirk of his that had you biting your own tongue to keep yourself from shoving it down his throat.

Adam would steal glances at you, winking whenever he managed to catch you staring as he drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, foot tapping to the beat of the song playing in the back of his mind. "Okay. I'll get this filed for you in a jiffy. You'll both get a letter in the mail once the processing is complete and everything's official," the notary informed you, and your heart sank momentarily when you thought you would have to wait to feel his hands on your body.

Just as you opened your mouth to ask the notary how long it would take for the processing to be complete, Adam reached over and placed a hand over yours, signaling for you to drop the issue and follow him out. "Thanks!" he called back, leading you out of the cramped office building and onto the street.

You followed him in silence as he guided you down the busy sidewalk on Main Street, weaving through the crowd so fast you were struggling to keep up with him. "Adam? Where are we going?" you tried to ask over the loud hustle and bustle of the noisy street.

"I told you I can't wait."

Adam had told you twice already, yet still you were shocked by the urgency with which he kissed you the second his front door was locked. Slamming you against the wall and pressing himself into your body, he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, tongues swirling and teeth clashing as you rushed to undo your buttons.

"Been- ... fuck, been dreaming about this for weeks now," Adam mumbled against your mouth, leveraging you between the wall and his hips as he pulled back far enough to pull his novelty tshirt over his head and discard it somewhere nearby. Rocking back until he was supporting your full weight once more, Adam turned and took a few long strides to the nearby couch, plopping down with you straddling his lap.

"Yeah? Then why'd you wait so long to text me?" you asked breathlessly when you pulled back, pulling your arms free of your dress shirt and carelessly yanking the clip out of your hair to let the tresses cascade freely down your back. "Don't tell me you got shy all of a sudden," you teased, grinding your hips down against his clothed length and pulling a guttural moan from his chest as he guided your hips back and forth.

"H-had to- god that feels good!" he said through his panting, cheeks flushed red and pupils blown wide with arousal. Tracing a hand up the front of your body, Adam gripped the center band of your lace bra and pulled it down until your breasts spilled from the cups. He wasted no time in shoving his face into the valley between your breasts, pressing heated kisses to them and teeth nipping at the tender flesh before hungrily sucking a pert nipple into his mouth, massaging the other with his free hand and eliciting a deep moan from you.

"S'that right, baby? Why?" you asked him in a breathy whisper, your fingers tangling in his mussed-up hair as you pressed your lower half further against the bulge of his worn-down jeans. Adam pulled away from your chest long enough to move to the other one, moaning against the hard bud as his hands trailed down to your skirt, pushing it up to bunch around your waist. Running two fingers along your clothed pussy, Adam smirked against your skin when he felt how wet you had become with so little stimulation before he pulled back again to look up at you.

"'Cause if I hit you up before the contract was done, I was gonna come over to your place and fuck you stupid," he explained, licking a stripe up between your breasts until he was nipping at your jaw. Gripping your hip tightly with one hand, Adam pushed the gusset of your panties to the side and dipped two fingers into your waiting heat, groaning loudly at how easily they glided against your gummy walls thanks to how wet you were. "Ohh fuck, you're so fucking wet and I've barely touched you," he moaned as he pumped his thick digits in and out quickly, setting a rapid pace as your juices dripped down his hand, leaving dark spots on his jeans.

"You weren't the only one dreaming about this, you know," you gasped, bracing yourself against his shoulders as the meat of his palm slapped against your clit each time he pushed back in, the squelching noises of your wet heat filling your ears as the pleasure built twice as quickly. "That so? You been dreaming about my cock?" Adam asked as he sank his teeth into the side of your neck, your cries making his cock jump within the much too tight fabric of his pants. "M-mhmm, fuck please don't stop!" you whined when he slowed down his ministrations, opting instead to press the pad of his thumb to your puffy clit and draw rough circles against the little bud.

Adding a third finger to your dripping core, Adam picked the pace back up when he felt your thighs begin to tremble, realizing that you were already close to a release. If he wasn't so bricked up, he would have slowed down until your orgasm escaped you, but he was just as - if not more - desperate for your touch as much as you were for his. "That's it, baby, let me feel you gush on my fingers," he urged you, reaching down to palm himself through the rough fabric as your nails dug into the bare skin of his shoulders.

Clenching your eyes shut tightly, you lowered your head as you began to grind down against his hand, chasing that elusive high that you could only seem to reach by yourself. You were so close to an orgasm, your first one with a partner and not one of those fake ones to make the other person feel better about themselves. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuh-uuhhck-!" you cried wantonly, rocking your hips back and forth as he pressed his fingers further into your greedy cunt, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive little bud. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Adam urged you on, pulling away from your neck and staring up at your tensed expression, struggling to move his fingers in and out as you began to clench around them, grip tight and unrelenting.

A few more pumps of his fingers and a couple more hard circles drawn on your clit, and you were throwing your head back in a silent cry, your walls fluttering around his girthy digits, refusing to let him pull back even a single centimeter as your orgasm crashed into you like a freight train. After what seemed like forever, you finally released the breath you didn't realize you had been holding, chest heaving as your lungs sucked in air and your vision began to clear as you came down from one of the most intense orgasms you've experienced yet. Grip loosening on his shoulders, you tilted your head down to look at Adam, a groan falling from your lips when you saw him greedily sucking your fluids from his fingers.

Catching your gaze, Adam pulled his fingers from his mouth and swiped at your oversensitive pussy, collecting more of your fluids before reaching up and pressing the pads of his fingers against your lips. "Open," he commanded you, and you wordlessly obeyed, letting him push his slick covered digits into your mouth and press against your tongue, sucking harshly as you hummed around them. "Shit, that's so fucking hot," he moaned as he pulled back his hand, grabbing you by the hips and pushing you off of him to stand up and undo his belt.

Turning to look over your shoulder at him, you bent over until you were on your hands and knees, wiggling your ass just to tease him that little bit as he frantically unzipped his pants and pushed them and his boxers down to his knees. "Gonna make good on your promise to fill me up?" you asked innocently, biting your bottom lip as you felt the couch sink in when he knelt down behind you.

Chuckling in response to your tease, Adam bent over your form to whisper in your ear. "Oh I'll do more than just make good on my promise," he told you, supporting his weight with one arm on the back of the couch as he lined himself up with your slick entrance. Placing several messy kisses to the nape of your neck and shoulders, Adam straightened himself out as he rubbed the tip of his weeping cock against your folds, groaning at the warmth that enveloped it when he pushed in just slightly. He wanted so badly to drag this first time out with you, but the absolute hunger, the animalistic desire coursing through his veins in that moment sapped every ounce of self-control he possessed.

"M'gonna stuff you so good, make you scream-" a grunt interrupted his speech when he suddenly slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your warm wet walls in one swift motion, "-my fucking name while you cum on my fucking cock!" Retracting his hips until only the tip remained inside, you whimpered at the emptiness you felt until he was driving his hips forward again, pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass as he repeated the action over, and over, and over again, knocking the breath from your lungs each time his wide girth stretched your gummy walls open.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you gasped every time, pressing one hand against the armrest of the couch to find some purchase as you tried to push back against him each time he thrust forward, his hands holding you by the hips tightly, grunting each time your tight pussy wrapped around his aching cock. "Yeah, that's it baby, push back on it, just like that, fuck!" he groaned, speeding up as he watched your ass bounce with each slap of his hips, ripples rolling through the fat each time he drilled himself impossibly deeper into your core.

"S-shit, pussy's so fucking good, barely even started and you're making me wanna cum already!" he grunted through gritted teeth, delivering a hard slap to your ass cheek before caressing the spot where he struck you, repeating the action several times and pulling loud squeals of pain mixed with pleasure from your throat. "Oh fuck me, Adam, harder, please!" you begged, nails digging into the faux leather of his worn-down couch, that coil in the pits of your belly tightening faster than the first time he made you cum.

Strings of profanities spilled from both your lips as he fucked into you at a brutal pace, the rhythmic 'pap, pap, pap!' sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls and drowned out any noise coming from outside. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck, give it to me!" you begged, losing yourself in the pleasure and clenching your eyes shut as Adam felt that familiar flutter of your walls, signaling your release. Reaching up, he wrapped one hand beneath your jaw and pulled up slightly, pressing his other hand down into the small of your back and forcing you into a deep arch as he ground his hips into yours, making minute thrusts as he arched himself over your contorted figure just enough for you to see his face.

"You want it? Y'want my fucking cum, baby? Yeah?" he asked through his grunting and groaning, delivering another slap to the round globe of your already reddened ass cheek as he delivered minute thrusts now, heavy balls slapping against your puffy clit each time he thrust forward. "Yes, please, I want it, I want it so bad Adam!" you begged, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you felt the first tethers of that coil snapping in your belly, your walls clamping down on his cock as he brought his hand around to rub fast circles against your clit.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt his balls tighten and that urge to let loose everything he'd been holding back for the past two weeks becoming painfully unbearable by the second. "Okay, I'll give it to you," Adam started, releasing your chin and letting your body fall out of the arch as he grabbed onto your hip once more, his other hand still rubbing determined shapes into your overstimulated clit. "But not until you cum for me! 'm not gonna give you my cum until I feel you gush around my fucking cock!" he told you, groaning loudly as he desperately clung to some semblance of control, wanting to feel you quiver and shake one more time before he let himself be swallowed up by the pleasure your sweet pussy offered him.

It only took a couple more thrusts before you were doing exactly what Adam was telling you, walls constricting around his hardened length almost painfully and your vision going white, a searing pleasure ripping through your being as your essence dripped down your thighs and his, shaking violently as you struggled to hold yourself up. Adam praised you, talking you through your high as his pace quickened even more, chasing that high, determined to deliver on his earlier promise. "Oh fuck, that's it, take my fucking cum! Take it baby, take it, take it!" he beckoned, his grunts growing higher in pitch as his own release barreled towards him at an unbelievable speed.

With one final thrust, Adam was pushed over the edge and he emptied his load into your quivering hole, lurching forward to catch himself on the arm of the couch and not crush you beneath his substantially larger form, his abs clenching beneath the thin layer of fat with each pulse of his hot seed into your welcoming cunt.

Back pressed against his heaving chest, you reached behind yourself once you found your strength again and tangled your fingers in the damp mess of hair atop his head. Craning your neck, you tried to pull him close enough to place tender kisses to his face, but the angle he had you in was too deep for you to get much further that his bicep when he wrapped his arm around your upper torso. With a groan, Adam eventually pulled you up against his chest and plopped back, his half hard cock still seated deep within your pussy as he tried to catch his breath, littering your shoulders and back with tender kisses of affection.

"Fuck... what time did you say you had to be back by?" Adam asked suddenly after several moments of content silence, reaching for his phone that had fallen haphazardly from his back pocket when he pushed his pants down.

Swallowing hard, your throat felt dry as you tried to gather your senses enough to answer his question, glancing over at the digital face of his phone as the time flashed brightly for you to see. If you hadn't just had the most mind-blowing sex of your life, you might have been a little bit concerned by how late your "lunch" was running. "I was supposed to be back thirty-seven minutes ago," you rasped, to which Adam chuckled as he tossed his phone onto the nearby coffee table. He wrapped both arms around your waist, holding you close and refusing to remove himself from your core, remembering the deal that had brought you two in the first place.

"Well, shit. Didn't mean to keep you from your work," he said, his tone apologetic as he nipped at the discolored flesh of your neck where he had sucked hickies into your otherwise flawless skin. A light laugh tumbled from your throat as you craned your neck once again, this time pulling him forward just slightly so that you could place a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his lips, your nails scratching lightly at his scalp and eliciting a low moan from him at the pleasure.

"It's okay. I have sick leave. I'll call them and say I got food poisoning, or something," you rasped, coughing slightly at the pain in the back of your throat. Reassured by your quick thinking, Adam smiled into the kiss before he unwrapped his arms from around your body, lifting you by your hips until his spent cock was pulled from the warmth of your core, moving you off of him entirely a second later so that he could get you a cup of water. Standing up, Adam reached down to pull his pants up, stuffing himself back inside his boxers as he walked to the nearby kitchen and letting you sink back into the cushions of his couch comfortably.

"And what about the contract?" Adam called from the kitchen, to which you hummed, sleep closing in fast with how spent your body was. "What if you wind up pregnant before the contract goes into effect?" he asked once he returned, offering a plastic blue cup filled to the brim with water to you. Thanking him with a nod, you didn't hesitate in taking the cup from him, swallowing several large gulps before you offered it back to him. Adam finished off what was left before he moved you forward to squeeze himself behind you once again, tracing lightly his fingers over the sweaty skin of your face and through your hair.

...

"... We lie?"

story ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ header ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ dividers ┊ ◜ kodaswrld ✧ fanguro ◞ summoning ┊ ◜ @hazelfoureyes ✧ @minkdelovely ✧ @sugoi-writes ✧ @fraugwinska ✧ @macabr3-barbi3 ◞

Please do not copy or repost as your own! Thank you!

[vagabond-umlaut]

two shots of ristretto, please!

One must have heard of espresso, but ristretto? No?

Well, translated to 'restricted' in Italian, ristretto is another version of espresso, but of a sweeter and more intense quality than the latter— though, you reckon, there's no entity in this world, sweeter and more intense than that white-haired, blue-eyed enigma-turned-menace of yours.

▸ yakuza heir! gojo satoru x uni classmate! fem! reader; TIMESKIP; dad! gojo satoru x mom! reader; FLUFF AND HUMOR GALORE; popularising the headcanon that gojo is so terrifyingly gojo for everyone, except his crush; the said crush's smart & not dense, for the first time in my stories; there is yakuza so there's a gun and there's a tiny bit of violence; brief appearance of utahime, shoko, suguru & nanami; POST-TIMESKIP: the most adorable twins ever, sachiko and sachiro, are back, with tons and tons of fluff!!!!!

▸ belongs to the series 'tang!' — same universe as the work 'every rose and its 'twin prickles'' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i know i described the reader to be smart and stuff, but the thing is: she is smart, of sorts, that is. and the post-timeskip portion is tooth-rottingly fluffy but not for satoru; sachiko & sachiro will never let their papa get some loving from their dearest mama... AND this is 4.4k wc long— idk how i wrote so freaking much! anyways, whatever it is–

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Gojo Satoru was born with three things.  

His name. 

His looks.  

And, of course– the baggage certain to tag along with the above two. 

Cup of coffee languishing in the frost of your ignorance, you lock gaze, the first time, with the famous infamous scion of the Gojo’s, an awfully stormy morning at the café your friend works at.  

Said friend looks halfway on the path to sweet, sweet dreams, resting her head on folded arms on your table — smiling, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind the shell of her ear, and return to your sly spying on the group seated couple of feet away. You think you see Gojo look at you yet another time — it must be an error of your eye, you reckon, given how he's giving a sharp grin to the man across from him, in the very next instant.  

Yeah, that's what it is. No one can possibly switch from shooting that level of thoughtful gaze to that level of feral grin in that short span of time. Yeah, it must have been a mistake of your silly eye.  

Anyways, whatever it is, to say you hate drawing attention to yourself will be the greatest understatement of the century— so you decide to look away for a beat, to avoid even the faintest hint of suspicion, eyes going back to the chemical reactions strewn across the mess you call notes— only to snap back to the white-haired boy, widening in horror from the click! then the scene crashing onto your brain.  

Gojo chuckles, eyes flitting from the gun aimed at the space between his eyebrows to the man holding it. "Aww," you register him croon, that self-sabotaging dumbass, "resorting to such cheap violence so quickly, Zenin-san? Grew tired of a civil conversation already? Tsk. What a pity." 

Another time and you think you'll consider this precise moment to be when you wake your friend up and slowly sneak away into the kitchen then out, via the back door. Another day and you know you'll consider this very second to be when you return your focus to your assignment on carbohydrates, all the while hoping you or your friend won't be cast into a brawl none of you are a part of— 

Too bad it isn't another time or another day, though.  

Biting back a grimace, you shut your laptop and rise from your chair with a loud clatter. 

"Forcing someone isn't really a nice way to make a deal, y'know," you hum, walking over to their table and plopping down onto the free seat next to Gojo, "what is better is to explain the pros and cons to the one opposite to you and try to convince them. Gently. And if that doesn't work, manipulate the hell out of them. But this?" you shoot the metal gun a disappointed glance, shaking your head, "this is a method even I know I shouldn't use to get my rival to agree to something, though I'm not from a criminal background." 

The man– Zenin, you correct yourself; the second largest yakuza clan right after Gojo's family, your memory supplies after a beat – gives a slow look from the weapon to you, a scowl appearing on his features. And barks – voice, a disgusting grating noise to your sleep-deprived self.  

"Who the fuck are you, girl? And why the fuck are you interfering in this?"  

You pause. Okay, this wasn't what you were expecting when you first strolled out here. You were expecting a yell, a scuffle; worst case, the gun aimed at your precious brain. But this? One question about your identity, and the other about your reason for approaching them? You haven't prepared yourself for this! 

Frowning, you cast a glance to your left, only to find the white-haired boy stare at you, staggered, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks; then at your friend who's snoring away like she doesn't give a damn about napping at work; then at the man glowering at you.  

You sigh, rubbing your temples. 

"Who the fuck I am... that's for me to know and for you to find out,” you answer, smirking, before growing serious again as you rush to explain, upon catching a murderous glint in the man’s eyes, “I mean, c'mon, y'all are the yakuza. This should be a piece of cake for you, shouldn’t it?"  

The man's glare only worsens in result; stamping down the apprehension in your mind, you continue, "And as for why the fuck I'm interfering in this—"  

You abruptly fall silent.  

Offering the boy beside you a panicky glance.  

Wondering what the hell you can say in reply. 

Should you say, "I've been listening to you threaten the poor boy for a good thirty minutes now, saying he's gonna face dire consequences, or some shit like that, if he doesn't share the area in the east with the Zenin's or refuses to marry their third daughter— who I'm pretty sure, y'all have made into nothing but a maid, a cook and a broodmare. Poor girl, being spoken of by her own family member to a stranger boy, as if she isn't a human being but something with no life or ambition. But, hey, how you raise your kids is honestly your own problem and I’m not here to drill some lesson into your head– though I guess, folks like you could really use some. Anyways, whatever the fuck it is, I'm here because I JUST CAN'T SEE ANOTHER BEING FORCED TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST THEIR WILL. AND I’M GONNA PROTEST AGAINST IT AS LONG AS I’VE A BREATH LEFT IN MY LUNGS." 

The inner-you tsks at the outer-you.  

You groan inwardly, shifting to the next plan already.  

So, must you say, "Gojo's my classmate, who has been sitting behind me since the first class of the year, and very weird to say, but I have also been finding him here at this coffee shop, every day I visit since that day, sitting at this specific table and scribbling in a notebook for hours at end— and, yeah, way weirder to admit out loud, but I guess I have also formed some kind of attachment to him? 'Cause of which, I feel, I get worried when I see him being actively threatened? And, yes, of course– all the while I totally ignore that he's next in line to a notorious criminal family or the fact that he's never even noticed me once before today." 

Another click! bounces off the walls into your ears, making you draw away from your mind back to the situation at hand. You settle for offering a shrug.  

"Why I'm here is because Gojo is one of my acquaintances and I just can't seem to stand someone being forced to do something against their will." 

Your statement earns a mocking laugh from the man, but before you rush to defend yourself and the fact you spoke the truth, a calloused palm rests on your forearm. Gojo's gaze flits from you to the gun still pointed at him then back to you. You feel a mild tremor in his fingers when they meet your skin. Good heavens, Gojo must be really scared, huh? 

His careful voice reaches you, a far cry from the haughty tone he was employing with the Zenin fellow earlier, "It's best if you leave now. Go take your friend and go away. And don't come back here. At least not until sometime later, yeah? Things are gonna get a hell lot messy and I don't want you to see that." 

For the first time in many days, the buzz of caffeine in your veins weakens, giving way to the thrum of worry you feel at Gojo’s words. Has this bastard already accepted his fate!? Hell no! Not if you can help it!!  

You give his arm a light pat. 

"While I leave you here, all alone, huh?" Shaking your head, you click your tongue. "Nope! Not gonna happen, mister. My parents raised me way better than that. Besides, you might not be knowing me but I've been knowing you for a while now, and despite what everyone says of you being the crown prince, or whatever, in the underworld — I ain't leaving you here, with your life at the mercy of a person who doesn't even have a shred of respect for others' freedom of choice and stuff." 

A noisy yawn sounds in the background, soon followed by a noisier series of snores. Gojo's mouth opens and closes a few times, like a funny fish, before he inquires, voice brimming with disbelief, "You... have noticed me? Since when?" 

You blink, then chuckle. "Of course, I have. Since the first day, if I'm being honest here," you reply, then add as a hasty after-thought, so that he doesn't see you as a weirdo, "I mean, it's tough not to notice you, y'know? Not when you're—" 

A deafening crash interrupts you in the middle of your sentence. You look away from the boy to find the man standing now, face contorted in a mix of fury and desperation while he shifts the gun's muzzle from Gojo to you, then back to Gojo, words leaving him in a harsh yell. 

"THE GIRL NOTICED YOU 'CAUSE YOU'RE THE GOJO SATORU AND YOU'RE HANDSOME AS FUCK. NOW, CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH? AND YOU — YOU SICK, SPOILT GOJO BRAT– YOU SAID YOU DON'T HAVE A MINUTE TO SPARE? BUT HERE YOU ARE, CHATTING YOUR LIFE AWAY WITH THAT GIRL—" 

A second deafening crash reverberates through the small shop– and you think you see your life flash before your eyes– but not before the man drops to the ground, most probably unconscious and hopefully not too damaged to lead a functional life, and very earnestly not dead. The gun clatters to the ground beside him. You turn to your classmate, eyes wide. Gojo returns your gaze, unblinking and slack jawed. 

Heart thundering in your ears, you hurry to explain yourself, "I–" 

"You smashed that plate on that guy's head." 

Gojo’s blunt words bring you to a still, making your eyes drift to the fragments of the unlucky glass plate, to the unluckier but-totally-deserved-it Zenin, then back to your classmate. A little more awe on the boy’s face and you think his jaw might hit the floor.  

You nod slowly. 

"Yeah, but as self-defence. I mean, you saw how eccentric that man was acting, right? I had to do something to protect both of us," you explain, looking away from the pair of blue eyes watching you closely, to your friend who still seems to be lost in the land of sleep (how much exactly did she drink last night, huh?) to your grey sneakers, voice growing mumbled with every other syllable you utter.  

"But that doesn't mean you've to feel some sort of debt towards me or anything. I too was kind of at mistake then, I guess... what with me rambling so fucking much when there was a literal gun at your head. I should have acted with more tact then – if I had done so, then maybe this mess could've been avoided. I mean, I've never seen these things before in my life, y'know? Except in TV shows, that is. Yet, this foolish me here thought she could just swoop in and save you like some sort of a hero..." 

Sullen, you trail off, face growing warm from embarrassment whilst your mind devises a plan on how to clear up the mess you created, many thanks to your foolhardy nature, when a muffled laugh reaches you. Gojo's eyes twinkle in enjoyment at the bewildered huff you give him.  

"You did save me like a real hero back then, y'know," he says, grinning a wide grin – before it disappears, making way for a much reserved, much shyer(??) version. A giggly voice within you whispers he looks just as sweet as he did with his cute dimples. The boy continues, carding a hand through his mess of white hair, with a casual glance at the man, "And, as for the mess you keep mentioning, don't you worry. Gun shots create more mess than a plate smashed on the head. And if I can clear that within a minute– this won't even take me a full second, Miss Hero. Don't you worry for this at all. But, yeah, thank you." 

Now, you don't really know if it was the sincerity in his voice as Gojo thanked you, or the fact that he has to clean up the mess you made in the first place, or the stunned feeling so clearly visible in the blue colour of his irises when you admitted to noticing him— whatever it is, you find yourself not wanting to leave anything unsaid between you both.  

Moreover, the realization that lives are considered extremely low-on-value in the world of crime, so much that guns are whipped out at the tiny disagreements or boasts are made on how quick a gunshot mess can be cleared by them — this realization doesn't make things any easier for you. 

Giving the injured man and your napping friend a momentary glance, you return your focus to Gojo, whose eyes are now narrowed at his mobile, and speak those words weighing heavy on your mind right now.  

"I really noticed you since the first day, Gojo," you say. The boy pauses his typing, confused gaze darting to you. "But not just 'cause you're the Gojo Satoru, or 'cause you're really pretty — which you totally are, by the way— but mainly because you had ambled into our first class, on the first day, a magnificent hour late, with your two friends— and my first thought seeing you was, what sort of a fucking entitled brat is this guy, sauntering in as if he owns the entire place." 

A beat passes before the boy erupts into chuckles, though the tense quality of them doesn't escape your notice. Pocketing his mobile, he shoots you a small smile. "And what about noticing me after that? It was just my name and looks which kept your attention hooked onto me, wasn't it?" 

The question– the mumbled way it was asked, more so– sends you into a brief bout of musing silence. Gojo's eyes remain trained on you the entire while — quite contrary to the innumerable adjectives you've heard to describe them: oceanic blue, sparkling blue, mesmerising blue, kind-of-startling blue– you think they're just... blue. So blue, you wonder if there's anything as blue as that gaze peering down at you.  

Perhaps not. 

Lips curving into a smile, you hum, "Yes and no. Yes, 'cause that was the main reason why my eyes kept trailing you whenever we were in the same place. No, 'cause they were the reasons only until I realised what kind of person you are, and how very different you're from what I first thought of you. I got new reasons after those." 

"Mind telling me those new reasons?" 

Gojo's nervous question widens the smile on your face. Casting your friend a glance — goodness, how many drinks did she really have at the party she went to last night — you reply, making your voice light and friendly, "Your personality made me curious. You are old money, with good looks to boot— you're literally the heartthrob of every girl on campus! Still, I've never seen you with anyone from them— never with anyone outside your group of three friends — though, I got to admit, the blond boy looks nothing less than constipated for a week, when he talks to you." 

That last comment draws a chuckle from the white-haired boy. The tightness in his shoulders seems to relax a bit, you note with relief. Face still carrying the same smile as before, you continue speaking.  

"And the second point which made me curious was how different you behave in different places. Your voice rings across the cafeteria every day during lunch yet you stay so quiet here for hours at end. You once said you've never been much of a book person, yet I always see you in this shop, immersed in your notebooks. And– what has struck me the most of all is the way you tend to go out of you way to annoy others – I've been sitting in front of you in class for a good three months now, yet you've never ever irritated me in the slightest. Kind of strange, ain’t it?" 

Stunned silence comes as the answer to your question, what with the addressed classmate of yours, rooted to his spot on the ground, blue eyes as round as the plate you had smashed on the man's head some time ago and the expression on Gojo's face, almost as if you've grown a couple of heads in the while you have been chatting with him.  

Or more like monologuing, now that you think about it.  

This guy is always so chatty with others: he was even then with that gun cocked to take his life — then why the fuck is he so unspeaking right now, eh? 

"Oh God, Satoru, I can't believe your plan of lurking in the places she goes to, to catch her eye, worked out!!" "Are you asking her out right now, bro?" "Can you all please move? It's raining like hell outside and I'm not really keen to get my leather jacket wet, thank you." 

The noisy rumbles of rain and thunder stream in through the opened door, before the latter is closed again, snapping you out of your internal monologue, a bit too sudden and harsh for your liking. Three pairs of eyes regard you with an utmost curiosity — you return them a blink before dragging your eyes away and looking at the boy a good foot away, only to find him resolutely staring at the overhead lights. Two pretty long (and pretty weird) seconds pass before you finally decide to tear your gaze away from him to the rain-soaked glass window of the eatery.  

A face with creased brows and warmed cheeks greets you from your reflection.  

Screwing your eyes tight shut in an attempt to ward off an annoying headache you can feel build up, slowly yet steadily, you let out a sigh.  

Friendship with the Gojo Satoru seems good enough but romance with the Gojo Satoru... that doesn’t seem half-as-good, right? 

Right? 

"Wrong." 

Your son's insistent voice, coupled by the tiny fist he slams down on the table, breaks you out of your reverie and you turn to find Sachiro wearing a frown, tears brimming in his eyes– eyes which move away from his father and sister to you, pinning your drowsy form beneath the weight of their moisture.  

Stifling a weary sigh, you place the menu card back on the table and coo, "Aw, Sachiro! What's wrong, baby? Are Papa and Sachiko saying mean things to you again? Are they still teasing you regarding today's incident?" 

Although, you suppose to yourself, catastrophe might suit what happened today, way more than the word 'incident'— what with the shrieks, cries and yells resounding through your flat in the short time you took to get ready for your Sunday lunch at a restaurant. Rubbing his eyes a little, the little boy scoots closer to you and nods weakly, wrapping his tiny arms round you. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you direct a stern look at the two sitting across from you.  

Sipping on the welcome drink, Sachiko just shrugs back at you.  

"I'm not the wrong person here, Mom. He is," your daughter explains, pointing a finger at her brother, then retracting it at your frown. Your husband snickers from beside her. “Yeah, sweetness, it’s Sachiro who’s wrong. Getting confused on when’s your birthday is no small mistake. Besides, our darling little munchkins taunt me the entire time if I ever make a mistake, no? Can’t see why they can’t stand a taste of their own medicine, then.” 

The sobs muffled into the cotton of your dress grow in intensity and misery. Sending her father a vicious stink eye, your daughter moves to observe you and her brother, a cute little frown on her face.  

"Okay, fine," she relents after a short beat, returning the lemonade to the table, "Guess I was a little wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have teased him so much, along with Papa, for messing up the date of your birthday. I also should not have said, he doesn't love you, some time back."  

A very weighted moment passes. The little girl jumps off her seat and reaches your side of the table, tiny arms reaching out to wrap around her brother. It takes a minute, and a small nudge from your side but soon enough, your two kids are hugging each other; Sachiro, a wailing mess, whilst Sachiko, being the older of the twins that she is, keeps saying 'sorry's' and patting his head, the exact same way their father does to them in times of their grave distress — when they throw a tantrum and get a nice long lecture from you, that is.  

Fond smile creeping onto your lips, you tear your gaze away from the two adorable angels of your life to your husband.  

Relieved to find him sans any teasing smile, you receive a gentle look from him, his hand reaching out to interweave his fingers through yours. You let him with a content hum, basking in the simple domestic joy seeping in through the sweetly scented air of the restaurant. A pair of plush lips press to your palm; biting back a giddy giggle, you throw the owner of said luscious lips a meaningful wink.  

Though... you doubt how much of your meaning could be conveyed to him... given how the two of you jerk back from each other a mere instant later, at the loud clearing of a throat from Sachiko and an angry 'Papa! Go away!' from Sachiro.  

Stomping back to her chair and settling into it with some effort and a huff, you watch an extremely pissed shadow form over the little girl's face, worsening as she twists and cranes her neck up to face her father. You really, really think your husband must not chuckle in this way in the face of such a thunderstorm— not when your daughter is shooting daggers with her gaze; and certainly not when your son is shooting that gloating smirk at him.  

Another time and you think you’ll look at that glare and at that smirk, then proceed to be on cloud-nine, realizing your children, despite being xerox copies of their father (both in looks and manners), did inherit certain features from you as well— something which a terribly competitive voice inside your head claims, is a great win— now, however, is decidedly no such time.  

Not when the person you’ve loved for these many years and know, will continue to do so for an eternity, looks one step away from being tormented to death– by none but the two milk-toothed lights of both of your lives.  

You watch Sachiko’s frown deepen, more than should be possible for someone her age, then begin. 

"Papa, I'm sorry but I have to break our deal. Sachiro is right. We two are the strongest duo of twins in the multiverse — we can't let you break our team this way. So, what if my brother makes a mistake? He's a young baby and babies are allowed to make mistakes, aren't they?"  

You wonder if she truly understands she was born a mere six minutes prior than her brother... and not six whole years, as appears to be the case right now. Holding back chuckles, you spare the person, addressed in the ‘not-really-apology' apology, an amused glance, then nod your head solemnly at her words.  

"They are, baby. They so are," you agree in the very next instant, then ask, a genuine inquiring inflection to your tone, "But what deal did Papa make you agree to, baby? Sounds pretty serious to me, to be honest." 

"Oh, it wasn't anything, sweet cheeks," your husband begins with an awfully nervous-sounding chortle; too bad, your daughter is quick to beat him to it. Throwing him a smirk, you can only describe to be devious, she looks back at you and grins. "Two weeks back, Papa found me in the living room, late at night, staring at shooting stars through the windows. And I found him walking away from the kitchen, eating a giant chocolate bar. Papa said you’ll be very mad because we didn’t listen to what you said, so, we should make a deal and become a team to keep this a secret from you." 

"Papa made that deal– only to divide us. So, our strong team can be destroyed and he can easily defeat us and keep you all for himself, Mama," your son chips in, puffy eyes narrowed into a very hard glare. Your daughter agrees vehemently from the opposite side.  

Your eyes drop to the glass of lemonade before you; you try your best to stifle the yawn.  

This fight over your affection has been going on since the time your children turned four or so... and despite them nearing an age of six in few months, no end can be seen in the horizon, to this war raging within your home...  

And as for the matter of Sachiko being awake way past her bedtime? You reckon you can't really do much on this, other than repeating the rules and the reasons behind each one of them– especially of punctuality and an adequate sleep– to her, like you did the last time... though, you think of toning your lecture down a little this time, considering it wasn't a video game but a meteor show she had stayed awake for... besides you too used to be — okay, no, wait, what??? 

Your husband's sheepish grin collides with the incensed glare you aim his way over the table. Letting out a frustrated huff of an exhale, your face turns away from his, choosing to stare at itself in the clean glass windows instead — too, too mad to acknowledge that white-haired, blue-eyed menace of yours, whining apologies with a pitiful gaze.  

You screw your eyes shut and let out a sigh. 

Being married to the yakuza king, Gojo Satoru, is a story, you deem, it couldn’t have been better, but being married to the sweet fiend, Gojo Satoru?  

Oh, sweet– no, strike that, you fucking hate that word—  

Oh, sour heavens above.  

That's a different story altogether. 

▸ if you've reached this point and still love me and/or my writing, istg I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH. writing something inspired by one's self-ship is so satisfying but so difficult, ngl. A BIG TYYY TO YOU WHO IS READING THIS LINE RN AFTER READING THIS MONSTROSITY OF A ONESHOT *sniffles*

▸ masterlist

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｌｏｖｅｒ ｂｏｙ♡

Pairing: boyfriend!felix x chubby!fem!reader

Summary: Your new boyfriend comforts you during a depressive episode.

Genre: fluff/angst-ish

Word Count: 849

Warnings: mention of depression/some dark thoughts & feelings

A/N: Just wanted to write something for anyone out there who might struggle with depression and need some comfort ♡

This couldn’t have happened at a worse time...

But it was bound to happen at some point, you think, burying your face in your hands, a puddle of tears forming in your palms. Things have been going so well with Felix, better than they have with any other guy. From day one he’s been your Prince Charming.

Taking you on dates to botanical gardens blooming with flowers you thought could only exist in fairytales. Packing you lunch for work whenever he stays over with cute little notes tucked in the bag to brighten up your day.

Felix is a dream come true for you. You wanted, with everything inside of you, to be the same for him, but all of that’s over now. You’re sure of it. It’s the first night you’ve spent at his apartment, mere days after the two of you became official, and you’re curled up on his bathroom floor crying your heart out at 2 in the morning.

It’s nothing he did. He’s been a sweetheart, as always, cooking you dinner and making sure that you’re comfortable. Still, depression’s found a way to creep up on you, flooding your mind with thoughts that tear at the thin layer of confidence you’ve been pouring all of your energy into maintaining.

The pain is like a ton of bricks in your stomach. An invisible hand around your throat gripping tighter the more you struggle to twist away. The voice in your head, telling you that you aren’t good enough, mocks you for being silly enough to think you could hide this part of you from Felix forever.

He’ll see you, really see you, and he'll hate what he sees.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Felix’s voice breaks through deep and scruffy from having just woken up, somehow remaining soothing in all of its power. Lifting your head up, you wipe your tears on the sleeves of your pajama shirt, positive you look a complete wreck. This is it. The end.

“I don’t…” you stutter, unsure of how to explain yourself, “I’m so sorry.” Based on the confusion that paints his face, you half expect him to back away only for him to do the exact opposite. He’s not running away, he’s grabbing handfuls of tissue, kneeling down beside you to tidy up your runny nose. 

“Talk to me. Did something happen? Did I do…” You sniffle, shaking your head, “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m just…fucked up I guess. Too depressed to keep my shit together.” Your head falls again, this time resting on your knees, and you close your eyes, wishing you could start this night over again.

For a brief moment, Felix shuffles around in a direction you can't pinpoint before two arms wrap around your body, hands clasped together where they meet your soft belly. He pulls you against his chest, strands of long hair brushing your cheek as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“You shouldn’t say that.”

There’s a sense of safety and connectedness within his arms that you haven’t felt in, well, ever. You're almost ashamed at how intensely his warmth shields you from the cold darkness closing in.

“You’re not fucked up. You’re just hurting and that’s okay. Well, it’s not okay but it’s…fuck I’m so bad at this.” Rolling your eyes, you reach a hand up to stroke his cheek, “Shut up. You’re not bad at this.” “Are we gonna sit here all night complimenting each other?” he teases, “Because we can. My butt will probably go numb though. I don’t have as much cushion as you. Don’t know what you see in me.”

The faintest giggle on your part has him kissing your neck, bear hugging you. “There’s my girl and that beautiful smile of hers.” “Don’t get used to it” you sigh, “It won’t last.” Felix just shrugs, “Doesn’t have to. I’ll still be here. I don’t care about you under the condition that you’re happy 24/7. You know that, right?” 

“I, well, I didn’t know…”

“Well, now you do.” 

His palm meets the back of your hand, fingers twining around yours to bring your arm down to your waist. “Let me be here for you. Give me a chance.” Hearing someone say that, hearing him say that, is more terrifying than you expect it to be. Trust is hard, trust is risky…

Felix leans forward to get a good look at you, a glimmer in his still sleepy eyes

…but if there’s anyone worth taking a risk on it’s the freckle faced boy staring back at you. 

“Uh…yeah…okay.” 

He smiles, “Yeah?”

 It’s impossible not to smile back, “Yeah.”  

“Good.”

Felix loosens his hold on you enough that he has room to lean his head on your back. “Want me to sing to you?” he yawns. You settle comfortably into the arms of your Felix, your safety blanket, letting your eyes fall closed from exhaustion. “Sing what?”

A stretch of silence lingers as he scans his brain for the perfect song to fit the moment.

“Oh! Got it! Fake eyes open…” 

“Felix!” you yell, slapping him on the knee.

“What? Bad timing?”

[hikakuriyyu]

Tension. (part 4)

⁎ warnings: romantic slasher ? mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of AND !murder!, manipulation, kissing, female!reader.

⁎ summary: you fell for him. hard. the murders started, and you knew it was him. billy lured you into his dark and twisted intentions. it was so wrong. but it doesn't feel wrong... there was something stopping you. or someone.

⁎ author note: i hope your guys been enjoying the last few parts cuz thinking of a plot is pretty hard 😭. and its my birthday :D so nice, lol. here you go nena :).

You stood there, frozen, your mind racing. Everything felt like it was crashing down all at once. Billy was already outside, waiting for you, the clock ticking faster with every second. You knew what he expected, what he needed you to do to prove you were really in this with him. But killing Dewey? It wasn’t supposed to come to this. You didn't wanna do this.

You swallowed hard, staring at your ghostface costume lying on the bed, the mask staring right back at you. This was it. You knew that if you backed out now, Billy would never look at you the same. This was the moment. You had to show him you were serious. That you loved him.

With shaky hands, you grabbed the costume and slipped it on, the mask feeling heavier than it ever had before. Every step you took downstairs felt like the floor might cave in beneath you, but you kept going, gripping the knife tightly in your hand. Your heart pounded in your chest, but all you could think about was Billy.

This was for him. You were doing this for him.

You hide in a closet and wait for the right moment to come. ''You can do this...'' you thought to yourself. You were so nervous for the first time, maybe you still had sympathy in your heart. You hear a few footsteps coming and prepare yourself. The footsteps inch closer towards the closet. At the right moment you jump out and stab Dewey's neck, hoping that would kill him instantly. Dewey placed his hand on his neck, trying to stop it from bleeding out. You watched the scene unfold, instantly regretting what you had done. Dewey lets out a few chokes before he takes his last breath, body going rigid. You stayed there and looked at his lifeless body. He didn't deserve this...

You snapped yourself out of it and quickly ran to a near window and climbed out before anyone could see you. You ran to the fountain where Billy wanted to meet, hoping he'd be waiting for you there. You see his distressed face, thinking you maybe had gotten caught. He notices you and quickly walks up to you. ''Did you do it ? Is he dead ?'' he asked you eagerly. You look around, making sure no one was in sight before taking of the mask, nodding at his question. ''Yeah...'' you say with obvious guilt on your face. Billy cups your face and presses a soft kiss on your lips. ''Hey... don't worry. You did the right thing. If you didn't kill him we would've been caught by now. But we're free. Together.'' he says softly, brushing a few strands of hair out your face. You relax under his touch right away, thinking about it from a postive perspective. He's right. If you got caught, you wouldn't be able to be with Billy anymore. You couldn't bear separation.

You smile at his words softly before nodding. ''Yeah. I guess you're right.'' you say before looking at the ground. ''What now ?'' you ask, thinking about what's about to happen next. Billy smiled, taking your hand. ''Let's run away together. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.'' he said as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Were you dreaming ? ''Oh my God...'' you exclaimed, not taking your eyes off him. ''Let's go.'' he said as started walking, still hand-in-hand with you. This is the best and worst day of your life.

He walks you to his house, since he lived alone. You walk into Billy’s dimly lit home, the atmosphere heavy with a mix of fear, excitement and uncertainty. The house is eerily silent, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Billy locks the door behind you, his movements calm and collected, while you stand in the living room, fidgeting, unsure of what comes next.

Billy leans on the wall, crossing his arms, watching you closely. He could tell you were a little on edge. ''Relax. We're safe here.'' his voice is smooth, confident, as if the events of the night didn’t affect him at all. He pushes off the wall and walks over to you. You look at him, the guilt evident in your voice and body language. ''I actually killed Dewey... he didn't deserve it. He was so sweet. I took his life away.'' you say as you take off the ghostface costume, setting it down somewhere before you take a seat on his couch. His eyes narrowed as he followed you, sitting down next to you.

Billy smirks softly before putting his hand on your thigh. "And you did it for us. That’s what matters." He scoots closer, his tone shifting to something softer, almost affectionate. "Don’t you see it now ? You’re free. Free from all those people holding you back." he added. you nod slightly, still unsure, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Part of you is relieved to be with Billy, but the weight of your actions lingers in the back of you mind. You look away hesitantly. "Why did it have to be him, though ?'' you say, your voice breaking slightly.

Billy grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, his expression darkening. "Deserve ? None of them deserve anything. They were all just in the way. You need to understand that. They were part of the game. Just like Sidney." his voice is low, almost a growl, but then his grip softens, his tone changing to something gentler, more... manipulative. "But now, there’s no one left to tear us apart. You and me… we can start over. Together."

Billy wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You can feel the warmth of his body, the intensity in his touch, and despite the chaos inside you, you find yourrself melting into his embrace. There’s a strange comfort in his possessiveness, in the way he makes you feel like the center of his world. You lay your head on his shoulder softly. "And what now ? What do we do next ?" Billy smiles, stroking your hair as if soothing a child. "Now ? We disappear. We leave Woodsboro behind and go somewhere no one can find us. Just you and me. Doesn’t that sound perfect ?" he said.

There’s a pause, the idea of running away together sounding both thrilling and terrifying. You know what they’ve done can’t be undone, and there’s no turning back. But there’s still a nagging doubt, a hint of hesitation. "And what about... everything we’ve done ? What if they find us ?" you ask him. Billy pulls back slightly, looking down at you with that same smirk. "They won’t. We’ll be ghosts. And even if they do... we’ve come this far, haven’t we ? You trust me, don’t you ?"

His gaze locks onto yours, challenging you, daring you to question him. You hesitates but then nods, feeling the intensity of his control over her. Your trapped, but willingly so, tangled in your obsession with him. "I do. I trust you."

Billy leans in, pressing a slow, possessive kiss to your lips. It’s not just affection—it’s a claim, a reminder that he owns you now.

To Be Continued...

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 1,672

Warnings | +18, bullying, attempted sexual harassment, panic attack

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | I'm back with the second chapter of Happy Ending, I hope you can enjoy it 🥰❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

Toward the end of class, some had already turned in their drawings, others had yet to finish, and Jungkook intimated that they should bring them the next time they saw each other. Y/N shakily got up from her seat, sent down too much saliva as she came within a few steps of the boy, who lifted his face in her direction, giving her a warm smile. "Y/N! Are you done?" The girl nodded, unable to verbalize her thoughts, so she placed the drawing on the desk, bending down a bit, this gave Jungkook a chance to get a better peek at how she was dressed that day, drinking in the sight of her legs and imagining how soft and creamy they might be in his adoring hands. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the most unruly strands back, and Y/N froze, following his movements with her eyes.

"Wow, Y/N...great job, as always," he complimented, proud that his good girl had done such a detailed job of depicting the disembodied cloud with shapeless, skeletal hands-that to her was bullying, something no adult could see, but which managed to trap its victims in a spiral of suffering and muteness. The girl blushed at his words, bowing slightly before reaching her seat. Behind her back she sensed a slight snort that caused her to stiffen. Jungkook had to leave the command to another colleague, stared disgruntled at the girl, but vowed to do something for her, or rather, for both of them. He would not let that terrible pattern continue, Y/N deserved better, in his arms he would be able to give her the happiness and love she lacked, as he could clearly see.

And so the day continued, until it was time to return home.

Y/N hurriedly packed her things, the threat of Yoozu loomed over her, and anxiously walked out of the classroom. She didn't greet anyone, and no one greeted her, she looked fearfully at every corner of the corridors, a hustle and bustle of students and teachers did not allow her to increase her pace, she found herself pushing through the crowd almost in desperation, she wanted anything but to be in the jaws of her classmate. Oh, if only she had known... "So, beggar!" someone brutally grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to him right outside the university, Yoozu stared at her with anger concealed behind a fake smile, "We still haven't discussed the slap you so kindly printed on my face," he growled.

Y/N felt herself dying, she tried to wriggle out of her companion's firm grip, but it proved utterly useless, the boy's icy fingers pressed on her tender skin without restraint. "Let go of me! Let go of me, Yoozu!" she exclaimed in panic, her breathing shorter and her heartbeat faster, but he if possible painfully increased his grip on her wrist, painful bruises would appear shortly. "Not so fast, first you have to pay me back for the shit you made me look like today," he hissed, dragging her toward a more secluded alley, Y/N grabbed the mirror of a car parked nearby in a desperate attempt to save herself, but Yoozu was much stronger than she was, "Be good, I'll only need your mouth, then I'll let you go for today." Those words were the straw, the girl began to scream and call for help, Yoozu immediately plugged her mouth but it was too late. Someone had heard her, and that someone was smoking with rage.

"What the hell is going on here?" The quiet but unusually dangerous voice made the boy pale, and he suddenly let go of his grip on the girl. Y/N fell to the ground with momentum, right at the feet of someone she knew. She lifted her gaze and caught the icy expression on Jungkook's handsome face; she also seemed to catch a glimpse of murderous fury in his irises, but in fact she could not be one hundred percent certain. "I... nothing, I just wanted to apologize to Y/N for today," Yoozu dared to say, but Jungkook did not buy that pathetic excuse. "Is that so? It would seem anything but to me." Jungkook had seen the whole scene, had even managed to hear those vulgar words that had screwed up his self-control. "Professor, it really went like this! But Y/N didn't understand, she thought that-" a sob interrupted his absurd explanations, Jungkook's heart clenched, as did his eyes. "Kang Yoozu, you are expelled." "Wait, what! You can't do that! You are not the principal, and on the basis of what then?!" Yoozu panicked, Jungkook found it disgusting. "I'm not the principal, but I'm on good terms with him, as for the motivation...how does attempted rape sound to you?" he asked wryly, making the boy gasp. No, with such a charge no other university would have accepted him and his parents would have sent him to some godforsaken place in shame. "Professor, can we talk about this? Please, this will ruin my life," he prayed agitatedly, admitting his real intentions that way. "The more I listen to you, the more I want to ruin something else too! Get out of my sight, Kang!" he shouted furiously, Yoozu at first seemed not to understand, then casting a glance at Y/N's kneeling figure he took a step back and began to run.

Jungkook inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself somehow, he couldn't believe what had happened before his own eyes, he turned to the girl and felt only immense pain, she was on her knees on the icy asphalt wet with rain, she kept holding her head in her hands, trying to stifle her sobs. He lowered himself in her direction, god, she was beautiful even with her face overflowing with tears. He brought two fingers under her chin, gently forcing her to lift her face to his, chaining their eyes together. "Hey, Y/N..." he gently blew on her, gathering the tears that ran down her full cheeks with his thumbs, "Are you okay?"

If possible, Y/N exploded into more sobs, throwing herself on her professor. She pushed into his chest seeking comfort, Jungkook was frozen for a moment, he did not expect such a reaction from the girl, his heartstrings tugged filling with warmth, he returned the embrace immediately, holding that tender body to him. "It will never end," she cried into his neck, breathing hard between sobs and bathing the boy's skin with warm salt water, "It will always be like this." Jungkook stroked her hair, imprinting the sweet scent of her on his mind, mentally whispering to her that no, it would not be like this anymore, that he would protect her. "No, Y/N... I'll talk to the principal, they won't hurt you anymore, trust me," he said instead continuing to gently caress her back, having her like this was like a dream just realized, he didn't even know how long he had wanted it, "Can you trust me, Y/N?" He moved her face away from his chest, seeking a clear answer from her, he wanted to be sure she wanted his help. Y/N let a trembling sigh escape, nodding. Jungkook's eyes were so sincere and crystal clear that it was natural for her to trust him, although her body still trembled at the mere thought of what Yoozu wanted to do to her. "Yes, I can," she murmured, Jungkook felt the need to kiss her just then, she was so polite and tender his little girl, who knows if she would have said the same begging him to give her more.

"I'll drive you home, Y/N, I have my car right next door, okay?" the young woman nodded without thinking much about it, her mind still too shocked by recent events to really think. Jungkook helped her up, escorting her to his car as if she had been a little doll in his hands. They both climbed into the vehicle and Jungkook got directions to find their way, cast a glance at the younger woman's legs, his hand itching to touch them, but he forced himself not to go too far for the moment. Rather, he focused on the magnificent smell of his favorite student, but the closer he got to his destination, the more he found himself turning up his nose. He didn't like that neighborhood; it was one of the most dangerous in the fucking city. Every day on the news there were reports of robberies, or worse. He cast a sidelong glance at the girl, wondering how she had survived in that place so far. Knowing her in that bad place upset him in no small part, and when they reached the apartment building Jungkook's gaze grew hard-they could all get to those windows, they were pretty old, too.

"Well, I live here, professor! Thank you for the ride and... for the help," she found herself saying impishly, Jungkook melted into yet another smile that day, the real and sincere ones were all for her, she just didn't know it yet. "Just ask, Y/N...and I'll be here for you," he said earnestly, the girl nodded, unable to respond and opened the door to get out of the car, gave one last wave and then ran inside. Leaving behind the eager gaze of her teacher. She closed the door to her apartment behind her back, a deep warm throbbing did not hint at leaving her anytime soon.

Jungkook's presence was all she could think about, she let herself slide against the surface of the door, in her mind were imprinted images of the man holding the steering wheel firmly in his strong hands, his muscular arms still uncovered and damp with rain, seemed strong enough to carry her without any effort at all, not to mention how he had defended her without too much trouble, quietly defying the economic power of Yoozu's parents, she clutched her legs to her chest, hiding her red face between them. Damn, she was really in love.

[doumadono]

EMERGENCY REQUEST

Hello my dear friend.. I apologize for using your emergency requests for something so trivial, but my nightmares have been absolutely killing me.. I'm always so terrified to go to sleep and even when I do, the nightmares plague me so badly that I hardly ever feel like I've slept at all and I feel like I'm losing my mind. I just want to scream and cry and rip my hair out, and I just want to sleep and actually FEEL like I've slept.

But all of that out of the way, I was hoping you might be able to do something with Douma, Akaza, and Kokushibo (all three or just one is fine) who are with a male human s/o who suffers terribly from night terrors and how they might help comfort their s/o.

Thank you so much for being such a beautiful, kind, loving, wonderful human being. I adore you so much 💜 You are truly such a warm presence in my life and I am so grateful for you

Upper Moons 1, 2, 3 & male s/o suffering with nightmares

A/N: oh, tiger, I'm so sorry to hear that you've been going through such a challenging time. Your well-being means a lot to me, you know that, and I'm here for you. First and foremost, your well-being is never trivial, and your struggles are always valid. Remember, it takes immense strength to share such vulnerabilities, and you've already taken a brave step. It's okay to feel overwhelmed, but never forget the strength that resides within you. I'm honored to be a part of your life, and your warmth and gratitude mean the world to me. Take one step at a time, and I'm here to support you through every single one. 💜 Always here for you

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Douma

In the dimly lit room, shadows danced on the walls as Douma's boyfriend writhed in the grip of night terrors. Douma, the Upper Moon Two, lounged elegantly nearby, observing with an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement. A sadistic grin played on his lips as he observed the torment consuming his partner's dreams.

Despite his typically twisted nature, Douma was surprisingly attuned to the human psyche. He approached the boyfriend's trembling form with a languid grace, like a predator closing in on its prey. "Oh, my dear," he purred, "how delightful it is to witness the chaos within your mind."

"It's terrifying, Douma-sama," the man sobbed. "I don't want to see all those things..."

As his arms encircled his partner, there was an unexpected gentleness in the demon's touch, as though he had momentarily set aside his sadistic tendencies to embrace a softer side. His long fingers with sharp nails traced patterns on the man's back, a delicate dance that contradicted the ferocity he often exhibited.

In a voice that, against all odds, carried a sweetness the man never thought possible from Douma, he whispered into the man's ear, "My love, do you feel the warmth of my embrace? It's a flame that burns brighter than any darkness." His breath was a soft caress against your skin, the chilling aura he usually exuded replaced by a comforting warmth.

He traced a finger along his boyfriend's cheek. "You know," he mused, "the beauty of your nightmares is exquisite. You need to embrace the terror, my love, for in it lies the true essence of existence."

Akaza

Akaza, the Upper Moon Three, approached the scene with empathetic demeanor. His eyes softened as he observed his boyfriend's restless sleep, a stark contrast to the ferocity he displayed in battle. Kneeling beside the man, he gently brushed a strand of hair from his face. "Hey there, don't worry. I'm here," Akaza spoke in a surprisingly soothing tone, his usual aggression replaced by a comforting warmth. "Nightmares can be tough, but you're tougher. Remember that."

The man sobbed quietly. "I hate it. I can't rest because of those nightmares. I feel so lost."

"We all carry burdens," the demon confessed, "but facing them head-on makes us stronger. You don't have to face them alone."

Seated together, Akaza allowed his partner to snuggle against him, his muscular frame providing a comforting warmth. His normally intense gaze softened, revealing a tenderness that was reserved for moments like these. His fingers traced soothing patterns along the man's back, a silent reassurance that the man was safe in his arms. "Hey," he spoke in a voice that rumbled like distant thunder, a stark contrast to the gentle caress of his touch. "You're safe here. No need to carry the weight of the world right now."

"It's alright to lean on others," he admitted, surprising himself with the admission. "We all need someone to rely on from time to time. So do I, a demon, whose fragility would be the last trait anyone could fathom."

Kokushibo

Kokushibo, the Upper Moon One, approached the situation with an air of detachment. He observed his partner's night terrors with an analytical gaze, as if deciphering a complex puzzle. While his demeanor remained cool, there was a subtle undertone of curiosity in his voice.

"Nightmares, a manifestation of the mind's deepest fears," Kokushibo remarked, his words carrying a wisdom earned through centuries, "One must confront the shadows within to achieve true serenity."

"It's hard to confront them, Kokushibo-sama. It's like being swallowed by some invisible force that no one can fight."

Rather than offering immediate comfort, Kokushibo encouraged introspection. He guided his boyfriend through a mental journey, dissecting the roots of the man's nightmares and addressing the underlying fears. His words, while cryptic, carried a strange sense of reassurance.

"Conquer your demons, and they shall trouble you no more," he declared, his gaze unwavering. Kokushibo's approach might seem cold, but it aimed at empowering his partner to face his fears head-on, emerging stronger from the depths of the night. "Confront the specters haunting your dreams with unwavering resolve. Your mind is a battlefield, and you, the warrior, hold the power to shape its narrative. Close your eyes, not in retreat, but in preparation. In the silence before sleep, let the echoes of your courage drown out the whispers of fear. Your resilience is a beacon that can pierce through the darkest of nights."