#idk if its centered but i tried

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[commsroom]

the "big picture" - whether that refers to some detached, calculated greater good; ruthless ambition and progress for the sake of progress; or even the dear listeners' cosmic indifference - as an antagonistic force in wolf 359 is so fascinating to me because of the way eiffel as a protagonist is set up to oppose it, just by nature of who he is. eiffel retains his humanity even under the most inhumane circumstances. his strength is in connection, and with that he's able to reach others who share his core values, but he's operating under a fundamentally different framework from the show's antagonists. he can never understand where they're coming from or be swayed by their points of view because, for better or worse, he can only see the world through a close personal lens.

it's an ideological conflict he has with all of them, but notably with hilbert: "you talk about helping people, but what about the real, live people around you? [...] that's your problem. you're so zoomed out." eiffel will never, ever see that "big picture" because he is so zoomed in. at his best, he puts things into perspective and grounds the people around him. at his worst, his perspective narrows so drastically inwards that he becomes blind to everyone and everything else. his failings are deeply, tragically human - they're personal, they're impulsive, they're self-destructive. they're selfish. no matter how much he might try to narrativize or escape from himself, he's still left with doug eiffel: "it's taken me this long to realize that running from everyone else means that you're alone with yourself." eiffel could never be convinced to harm others on purpose, but he has hurt people, and it's never been because he didn't care. the very fact that he cares so much, that he's incapable of reconciling the hurt he's caused with the things he values, is what keeps him from real growth for so long. where many of the other characters in wolf 359 will justify their cruelty in service of something they consider more important, eiffel is so caught up in vilifying himself and the fear that he's always going to harm the people he cares for without meaning to that he shuts himself off from the people who care about him and perpetuates his own self-fulfilling prophecy.

[kuromi-hoemie]

hhhh talking about my writing was fun but 30 tags is not enough.. yes i have 3 major influences but i have minor ones too.. it is a lovechild of my favorite things.. writing is so fun and i have no self control or a concept of pacing myself i will sit there for 16 hours and get hit with every status effect but by god does it all just flow out of me. I've always been a music person yes but i also used to write a lot into early adulthood until The Incident™

but i am ready 2 jump back into it. i think comics are a great middle ground between the two mediums so i don't get As into writing bc i kind of started going crazy last time 🫡 i can take a more structured approach to it that forces me to pace myself and think about it differently. i love art.... i love making things i love knowing how to do things i love knowing how to play things i love having so many creative outlets, even if i don't do a lot of them regularly lol. it is enriching 😳 and nice to know that it's always there to come back to when u want.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[mechahero]

//Oh wait, little worlds inside people's dreams. I think Lambda's would look and function a bit like an N64 platformer.

[eddie-rifff]

im down to taking 3 psych meds daily from 5. i think thats good. there was a point where i really needed all 5 but i think i really just need an ssri and maybe something for anxiety on top of that. currently im on an ssri, a mood stabilizer (which i never needed to begin with...), and an snri. i was prescribed the mood stabilizer almost 10 years ago because i was misdiagnosed as bipolar II when in hindsight they should have diagnosed me with autism (what i described and my doc thought was bipolar mania was just autistic excitement) but like whatever. anyway i am on that and i really dont think i need to be but the last time i tried going off of it it was pretty bad. i was at 225 mg and i went down to 200 which was ok but then i went down to 175 and my mood was, well, really unstable. so i went back up to 200 where ive been for idk 7 years. so now im like dependent on this drug i didnt need in the first place. i dont like taking drugs that i dont need to be on u know. i also dont think the snri is really doing much but at least that was for a legit diagnosis.

[fiendishartist2]

guys what if i want to make my own apollo justice game.

[geisterland]

lutz having to hold himself back from making CH related essays

[this-doesnt-endd]

I used to have a really giant family like tons of tias and tios and cousins and i say used to cause like it seems like after my grandparents died on both sides both families seemed to never speak again and i had no chance to even try and keep hold of those ties i was in elementary school watching my parents marriage crash and burn in real time dealing with major death in the family and then subsequent family abandoning me at the tender age of 11. Hell my brothers were older and jumped ship it was just me and the horrors

[autisticlee]

thinking about how much depression and anxiety I had around school until my senior year when I discovered social media and could use the internet regularly (aka tumblr) and how my depression and anxiety got so much better and I arguably did better my senior year than all previous years at school. I had an escape to go to where I finally had a few friends to confide in and laugh with. also learned about gender and autism and other stuff about myself and was able to realize i'm not a weird freak who is alone in the world and there's others like me. it was either use that as an escape or keep sitting outside every day after school, even in the rain and cold, with my tiny radio listening to shitty repetitive music the radio stations played or my cd player and listening to the copy of mcr black parade a girl at school gave me, and strew in my depression alone, crying and wanting to die. what part of my mental health was CAUSED by social media if I didn't have social media when I was at my worst lmao

[headofhelios]

when i was a kid the idea of like surprise birthday parties was so like. idk i wanted it and it never happened but now its actually like. gonna happen to me but at a really really bad time when i am going to be very stressed and whatever the surprise thing is will probably make it worse so its like. hmm. early birthday gift of being nauseous with anxiety a month in advance

[writersdrug]

omg you mind holy wow i love your brain i would never come to lobotomize you omgomg by god i need more bartender!simon you recently mention, maybe abt how they interact and develop? idk i really dont care what exactly you write, i js need any words from you abt bartender!simon

Hmmmmmm I have some headcannons!

You show up for work thirty minutes early because you're NOT risking losing this job.

Simon sometimes lets you bang on the back door for a few minutes, yelling for someone to let you in, until Soap gets tired of hearing it and opens the door. Simon finds it funny.

You think Simon is the owner of the pub until Price comes in one day with cash for your tip payout. You screamed as soon as you saw him walk in through the backdoor, thinking you were being robbed.

Simon barely managed to swing into the kitchen and grab you around the waist before you pummeled Price with an empty beer keg.

Price later told Simon he thought you were a perfect addition to the team.

You do your tips at the end of the bar every night as Simon polishes the glasses across from you. Lets you have one drink on the house.

First floor is the restaraunt/pub, second floor is the pantry/walk-in fridge/office where Price does money work, third floor is the studio apartment where Simon lives (Price discounted it for him).

When it's slow, you and Simon and Johnny all take a smoke break in the alley out back - you don't smoke, but you talk to them while they share a cig, complaining about customers together.

You bring it up to Simon that you've noticed how Johnny always comes to the front of house when Kyle brings the new kegs in, "Simon, need ya to check somethin' - ah, hey, Garrick!"

Simon scoffs at your revelation. "Jus' now seein' that?"

You live ten blocks away from the pub and ride your bike to work. Simon let's you stuff it in the alley for safekeeping.

If you're feeling especially sporty, you pop in your earbuds and take your skateboard. Simon nearly had the breath sucked from his soul when he saw you zipping by the window the first time.

You mop front of house because Simon hates it. Simon restocks the to go boxes because you can't reach the top shelf where the overflow sits.

You tried to pour a lager once when Simon was busier than usual. After watching you attempt it, he banned you from doing it ever again.

You enter Pino grigio in the POS as "peeno greeshio" and Simon hates it, but you love the way Soap cackles from the kitchen when he sees it.

Kyle sometimes sticks around to help you drag the new beer kegs up the stairs, and he shows you how to connect them to the taps.

You're constantly begging Price to set up a Karaoke machine in the corner of the bar. He says when you can afford it, you can buy it.

You broke the soda gun once; you and Soap were frantically filling container after container with tonic water while Simon was on his back under the bar, cursing and trying to turn the water off.

Monday mornings are deep-clean days, and everyone has to participate. You're all wearing sweats and bleach-stained shirts, pulling out the stove, sweeping behind the kegs, dragging the mats into the alley to clean them, emptying the fridge and scrubbing the entire thing.

Simon doesn't like to think too much about how hot you look in your sweatpants, ratty t shirt, and sweaty, flushed skin when you're exerting yourself.

You're constantly thinking about how those sweatpants hug his hips, those muscles in his arms flexing, and the grunts he makes when he's shoving the stove back into its place.

Simon gives you full permission to return any nasty attitude the customers dish at you.

After you go home for the night, Simon often finds himself lying on his bed, one arm behind his head and the other hand on his chest, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day - and they're all centered around you

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love

word count: 3,328

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events

playing: Unkiss Me

a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!

masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[finelinefae]

the other woman

synopsis: y/n is the other woman who just wants to be loved

word count: 5.5k

contains: angst, not a super happy ending maybe it is depending how u see it idk, harry is kind of a dick, mentions of medication, mentions of mental health (anxiety, allusions to depression), harry definitely listens to the 1975 in this, smoking, friends with benefits situation, toxic relationship

. . .

"That's the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen."

"Yeah,"

"I love it."

"You do?"

"I adore it."

"Good."

Harry sat against the headboard of her bed which took up the majority of his tiny bedroom in his even tinier apartment an hour train ride from central London. He was shirtless, his trousers were unbuttoned and his hair was a dishevelled mess. He had a cigarette between his teeth, Y/N hated the way the smoke made the room smell but she would never tell him that.

She sat up against the wall, her legs on top of his. She wore cotton underwear and his shirt, the buttons weren't done up, his gaze switching between his sketchbook and her breasts. Her eyes were fixated on the picture in the center of the white A3 pages.

She didn't know what it was but it was black and white and looked like skin. She wondered whether it was his skin but she wouldn't have called it ugly. She had seen every inch of his skin and the last forty-five minutes was proof of that. Her lips had pressed against the most intimate of places, she would know if it was his skin.

"What is it?" She frowned, tilting it to one side to see if a change in perspective would enhance its features.

"It's an areola," He responded, releasing a sigh, almost as if he was frustrated she didn't know he had taken a picture of a woman's breast.

"A tit?" Her heart began to race as she thought about him taking pictures of her without asking.

He chuckles and puts out his cigarette on her bedside table, leaning forward to throw it out of the window. "It sounds less artistic when you say it." He leans back again and reaches for a strand of her hair to play with. "But yes it is a tit."

'Who's is it?' She wanted to ask 'When did you take it?' 'Is she pretty?' 'Why not me?'

She could feel herself slipping away, wanting to cover herself up the more she questioned him in her own head. She glanced down at her chest briefly.

"It's not you." His words stung more than they should.

"I know that." She pushed the sketchbook away, not wanting to look at the picture of another woman's areolas. "What for?"

"We're doing the human form." He answers,

"Right."

"You're upset."

"I'm fine." She argued but the truth was she was upset and she hated the fact he knew that immediately.

He was good at hiding his emotions, he always had that sense of mystery to him, her not so much. She was sensitive and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was desperate to fall in love and when she did, she felt it to her very core, her chest would ache at the thought of being isolated from human contact. Sometimes she felt he took advantage of that but if she were to admit that, she would have to leave him and she couldn't do that.

She would rather die than be alone, especially if it meant being away from the one person to who she had developed an unhealthy attachment since they had met.

Harry's phone went off and he quickly reached across her to grab it from his side table. She felt like someone was pinching her all over as he bit back a grin at whoever had sent him a text. Suddenly being naked around him felt wrong so she quickly reached for her clothing that had been discarded on the bedroom floor.

"You're leaving?" He asks.

"Who is it?"

"It's nobody." She knew him long enough to know when he was lying.

"How long have you been seeing her?" Y/N wasn't going to cry, she wasn't, she really really wasn't.

Harry rolled his eyes, "You're being dramatic," He always tried to make it seem as if her feelings were too big for the space around them.

"You're a fucking jerk you know that?" She pulled her trousers up her legs and didn't even bother to button them up as she went in search for her shoes. "You show me someone else's tits as soon as we finish having sex? And then you get a text message and don't even tell me who it is?"

"I don't know why you're getting so upset we agreed long ago this was just a temporary thing."

"Oh I know you remind me that every time, I like to remind myself every day I'm just someone to pass the time." Y/N was used to being someone made to be used by someone else. She could be bleeding on the floor in the middle of the street and she wouldn't be surprised if someone took a plastic bottle and started filling it up with her blood in hopes it could save someone else before they even thought about rescuing her.

The problem was, she didn't even try to stop them. People entered her life and took pieces of her and carried them away with them, just to discard them later. Before she even thought about healing herself, someone else would come along and snatch another piece of her away.

That was the problem with people who were afraid of living with no love in their life, they were prepared to do anything for it. Y/N put too much faith in people despite the number of times she had been let down by the people close to her.

Harry was no different to that it seemed.

"What are you talking about? Hey," He grabs her wrist and pulls her into him, his eyes were sharp and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eye. Her heart pounded at the touch of his fingertips grazing her pulse. "What do you mean? You don't really believe that do you?"

"What does it matter? I know nothing about you Harry."

"You know more about me than anyone else does."

Sometimes it didn't feel like it.

Harry liked to make her feel special. He was good at it. He sent her texts during the day and brushed his hand against hers when they passed in the hallways. They'd come back to his place after a few drinks with friends in the evening, fuck, and be done with it. He'd send her away and act as if what they did didn't matter to him.

It mattered to her though. No one thinks that about a rebound or a person you had casual sex with but it always matters. She had never slept around until she had met him and now she was intoxicated by him because it mattered, right from the very beginning.

She closes her eyes and nods, "Please tell me who it was." She almost pleads with him.

"It's the girl in the picture, she's in my photography class." He admits.

"Do you like her?" Y/N almost whispers, she braces herself for the answer. She had been dreading the day he was planning to end this, she thought she would have more time.

Harry's head falls back like it kills him inside to give an honest answer to her question, "I really like her."

Y/N pushes him back and finally cries in front of him, "Go to Hell."

"Y/N-" He tries.

"No," She moves away from him quickly and reaches for the door, "And for what it's worth I lied, that is the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen and I hate it. It's ugly and you are an awful photographer."

She was glad she got that out as she slammed the door behind her on the way out.

An hour later she called him.

"Harry, I'm sorry," She whimpers and sobs into the phone. It was an ugly, heart wrenching sob as she cried to him on the phone, "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't think it's ugly at all. I'm sorry,"

"Hey love, it's okay, it's okay," He comforted her.

"I didn't mean it Harry please forgive me I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. Please, please, please, please." She said the words over and over again. Pleading for something that seemed like more than forgiveness.

"Y/N I forgive you, I promise. Please go to sleep." He asks her, he was worried for her but she had done this often enough he knew it wasn't anything serious.

"Promise?" She cries, sniffling.

"I promise,"

"Okay, I'm sorry Harry."

"I forgive you."

The call ended and Y/N lay back staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning from all the crying she had done since she got home from being with Harry. She turned over and took half a miligram of xanax and a sleeping pill, despite her doctor telling her not to, and fell asleep.

"Who was that?" Harry turned to look at the girl in the photo who was now lying on his bed. Her hair was flipped to one side, exposing her entire neck and collarbones.

"Nobody." He forced a smile on his face and walked over to her with his camera, the sounds of Y/N's pleading echoing in his head for the remainder of the night.

--

The next day, Y/N walked into the art room for her first class of the day. She took out her portfolio and sat at her table where she had been working on her next project. It was a painting she had been working on for the past few days and she wasn't near to being finished just yet.

Her eyes were swollen and red from having spent the majority of yesterday crying her eyes out. She skipped her therapy appointment and turned her phone off as she thought about how lonely she really was and how she had no one but herself to blame for putting herself in that situation.

Harry was also in this class but he hadn't turned up yet. The thought of him made her stomach twist. Picturing his smile as he told her about the girl he had been seeing, 'I really like her.' echoed in her head and she wondered what it would be like for him to say that about her.

"How's it going?" Ollie, a good friend of Y/N's, sat down at the easel and stool next to her and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet. He pulled out his pens and watercolor paints as he set up his station to paint.

"Fine." She muttered, reaching for her headphones in her pocket and putting one in her left ear.

"That doesn't sound good." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm fine Ollie." She repeated, a little more hostile this time.

"Did you go to Harry's place yesterday? I tried to call you but it went straight to answerphone."

"What makes you think that?" She looked at him, tilting her head in curiosity.

"You have this look in your eye." He seems as if he doesn't want to go on but she waits for him to carry on speaking, "I don't know how to describe it... It's like someone's put light in your chest just to then suck the life out of you." He motions towards her painting, "Kind of like that."

She looked at her painting and stared at it. A woman sat in an empty room, a stream of light hitting her face from the window. Outside were people celebrating amongst vines and trees and flowers. The painting was a mixture of beiges and browns and green but the woman's eyes were black and lifeless... they were the saddest pair of eyes she had ever seen.

--

"Fuck," Harry groaned and fell on top of her, sweat beading his forehead as he left her and fell to her side. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind was blank and her chest was heavy.

Harry reached across her for his phone, "Shit." He muttered, shifting to the end of the bed and jumping to his feet.

"What?" Y/N asked, sitting up, the blanket falling to her waist.

"I didn't know what time it was, I'm late for my class." He pulled up his trousers and ran his fingers through his hair as he went in search for a shirt to wear on his bedroom floor.

"Hmm." She sighed and fell back, reaching for one of his cigarettes and fiddling with it between her fingers.

"Are you going to smoke that?" He nodded towards the cigarette.

"Would you like me more if I did?" She replied.

He frowned, "I'd like you just the same."

She stared at him, he was so pretty. He had just gotten out of bed and his hair was a mess, his shirt had a stain on and his trousers were undone but he was so beautiful. She wondered if he ever thought that about her, whether she was beautiful despite the ugliness and mess.

Y/N reached for a lighter, lit the end of the cigarette, and inhaled the smoke.

She didn't seem to mind the way it made the room smell this time because it was a reminder that he had actually been there in her presence even just for a brief few minutes. She stared at the empty room where he once stood.

--

Y/N remembered when she first saw them together. It was a Friday night and all the art students spent Friday night at a bar in Camden Town. Y/N and Harry weren't in the same friendship circle but they had friends that knew friends and that was really how they met.

She sat with Ollie on a couch as everyone else played pool. She had taken three shots of vodka and was on her first drink of the night. The door opened and they both walked in hand in hand. The girl was stunning, her legs were long and thin, her hair was thick and wavy, her eyes were innocent and shone underneath the lights of the bar and her hand was intertwined with Harry's.

They caught eyes for a brief second before Harry turned away from her and went over to the bar to order them a drink. Ollie was talking about something she wasn't paying much attention to as her eyes stayed fixated on them.

She noticed the way his hand pressed against her back at the bottom of her spine and how he brushed her hair behind her ear as they leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks. How she smiled as he whispered something to her and bit her lip as he traced the back of her hand with the tip of his finger.

Y/N realised the Harry standing in front of her was someone she had never met before. It was strange how we never really know the people we meet as they choose to present themselves as someone else depending on who they are with. It's only when you're with your person that you can truly be your authentic self. She wondered which version of himself was real. She even wondered which version of herself was real, who she was with him or who she was without.

"I'm going to go over there." Y/N slurred, moving off the couch but falling back again as the room began to spin.

"Oh no you don't." Ollie pulled her back. "I'm not going to let you embarrass yourself like that."

"Why would I be embarrassed?" He looked at her like she was supposed to understand what he was hinting to.

"You'll forgive me in the morning." He said like he had done her some kind of favour.

She did.

--

"When are you going to take pictures of me for your class?" She wondered, playing with the ends of her hair on his bed as Harry fiddled with the strings of his guitar.

"You want me to do that?" He asked.

"Why not? I think it would be fun." She thought for a moment, "What would you choose to take pictures of?"

Harry pondered on the idea, thinking really hard to come up with an answer to her question. She bit her lip to hold back a smile. She liked the idea of him scanning his memories for parts of her body he had seen. It made her happy knowing that pieces of her were ingrained into his mind like lyrics to a song or the colours of the rainbow.

"Your eyes." He answered after a while.

She frowned, not expecting the answer, "What?"

"Your eyes." He repeated.

"That's it?" Her eyes were the only part of her he thought worth photographing?

"Yeah."

"That's boring." She muttered, falling back against the mattress.

"What makes you say that?"

"You took a picture of that girls boob and you've probably taken a lot more pictures since you like her so much." He cringed and set his guitar down to look at her properly. Harry knew he had to be careful with what he was saying, he could tell by the tone of her voice she was getting upset.

"Those were the only pictures I took." He argued, "And besides, I like your eyes."

"You never look into them." She retorts.

"Of course I do."

"You don't."

A beat of silence rested between them until Harry spoke again, "Maybe when you're not looking."

"Why would you look at my eyes when I'm not looking?" She wasn't understanding anything he was saying.

"Because I love watching you watch the world." He replied. "If I don't know how I feel about something I look at your eyes and everything makes sense. Sometimes it feels as though I'm understanding the world through you."

Her face softened, her heart settled in her chest. She felt warmth spread through her like she had just received a warm hug. The corners of her lips tugged upwards and she crawled over to kiss his cheek. "That was possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She confessed, her heart expanding.

"Then you need to be surrounded by better people." He reached for his guitar. "Come sit here." He patted his thigh and she rolled off the bed to sit exactly where he asked.

He began to play a song on his guitar, gently singing the lyrics in a low voice. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

It was one of those moments she wanted to freeze and stay in forever. Nothing else existed outside of this bubble. Her heart was happy.

--

Ollie's birthday was January 23rd and he was having a house party at his flat.

"How many people are coming?" Y/N asked as she applied mascara in front of his bathroom mirror. She was crouched down inside the sink so she could get as close as possible to the mirror.

"I don't know, I invited about twenty and said they could spread the word to whoever was available." OIlie applied aftershave as he spoke.

"So everyone?"

"Possibly."

Y/N was excited to see Harry. Although they didn't speak much outside of the confinements of his bedroom, she was still looking forward to being in his presence. Ever since their intimate moment, they shared a few days ago, she had been longing for him. Her heart sighed in bliss at the thought of being near him again.

She wanted to wear something extra special that she thought he would like. Her hair was curled, which she never normally did, she wore black, leather trousers and a black corset to go with it and black heels to make her slightly taller than she really was. She accessorised with gold jewellery and had done her makeup in a much more simple manner.

"You look like that girl." Ollie spoke as soon as she walked into his kitchen.

"What girl?" She blushed.

"The one Harry was with at the bar the other night. I mean, the outfit is hot but you never wear your makeup and hair like that."

"Geez would it kill you to just say I look 'good'?" She mumbled, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She never normally wore her hair down as it irritated her.

Ollie's face softened, she hated the sympathy on his face, "You look fucking hot." He said, pulling her in for a hug, "Don't let anyone change that." He whispered.

People began to arrive around 10pm. Ollie's apartment filled up rather quickly and Y/N was already on her third drink of the night. She was stood talking to a few of her friends from one of her textile classes until her eyes caught sight of the curly-headed boy she had been waiting for.

She smiled, excusing herself from the conversation and shifting through the crowd to get to him. "Harry hey," She beamed but then immediately felt her happiness slip from her.

"Hey Y/N," His eyes were wide at the sight of her, he was so used to seeing her in her natural form.

Y/N didn't reply as her focus was fixated on the girl talking to some other people. The girl he had bought with her. The girl in the photo. "Are you okay?" Harry asked when she didn't say anything.

"I'm fine." She forced a smile on her face.

"We're not staying long. I just thought I'd stop by to see Ollie." Her heart deflated at the use of 'we', they were a 'we' now.

"Right, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She nodded, reaching for another drink.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He checked with her.

"I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." Y/N pushed past him and made her way to Ollie's bathroom which was surprisingly empty.

"Are you okay?" Someone asked her from behind as she was about to step into the bathroom.

She turned around and came face to face with the girl from the photo. She looked even more beautiful up close if that were even possible.

"I'm fine." Y/N muttered, it seemed as though that was the only response she was giving anyone nowadays.

"Harry sent me to come and see if you were okay." She said, even her voice was soft and gentle, "He was worried about you."

Y/N scoffed, "What he couldn't come find me himself?"

"He was trying to find Ollie I think-" The girl sighed, "If you're okay, I'll go back and tell him."

"Before you go...Can I ask you something?" Y/N could hear the voice in her head screaming at her not to say anything but she had to know, she needed to know.

"Go ahead." The girl seemed irritated by Y/N, like she was wasting her time.

"Do you know who I am?" Y/N could feel her eyes burn as she asked the question.

The girl from the photo frowned, confused by her question, "What?"

"Do you know who I am?" Y/N repeated but this time more sternly.

The girl from the photo looked at her, really looked at her, narrowing her eyes as if to get a better look. "I have no idea."

Y/N's insides felt as though they were bleeding. It was almost like Harry was the only one who was keeping her stitched together but now everything inside of her had come loose from that one reply.

The girl from the photo hesitated before saying, "I'll go and tell my boyfriend you're okay."

Y/N looked at her as she walked away, completely crushed. She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, falling onto her knees and sobbing into her hands.

She hadn't realised how much power he had over her until this moment. How much she relied on him and how she couldn't picture her life without him. She trusted him too easily and that was nobody's fault but her own.

Her breathing began to pick up and she felt a strange sensation like pins and needles trickle along her skin. She pulled off her trousers and her corset until she was in nothing but her bra and underwear. She crawled into the bathtub and turned on the shower so cold water could reach her skin, all whilst hyperventilating and crying her eyes out.

This was unlike any pain she had ever felt. She wasn't sure why it had hurt so much but maybe it was because another person had used her, maybe this time it was because she gave every inch of herself to him and she had nothing but skin and bones left.

"Y/N are you in there?" His voice was muffled from behind the door.

"G-Go away." She whispered, rocking backward and forwards with her head tucked into her knees and cold water wetting her skin.

"I'm worried about you, love." His voice sounded so sad.

"Go away." She carried on chanting like this was a nightmare she wanted to wake up from.

She felt soft hands touching her shoulders and immediately looked up into green, sad eyes. For once Harry was easy to read as his eyes showed nothing but remorse.

He reached past her and turned the shower off, she was shivering and he reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders in hopes it would provide some warmth.

They said nothing, Y/N didn't get out of the bath as it helped in providing a separation between them. "Why don't you love me like I love you?" She whispered. Her eyes looking into his, they were red and her face was stained with tears.

There was no point in denying things anymore, he was one of the only people who knew she was too clever for that, "I don't know," His head fell forward, he felt defeated.

"Why did you put me here?" She cried, "Why did you put me here if you were just going to leave me?"

"I-I thought you understood what this was. I thought-" He lied.

Harry knew Y/N better than anyone in her life. He knew better than to hurt her like this.

"Why does everyone leave me?" She whimpered, "Why can't I be loved?"

"Y/N-"

"Please tell me you love me. Please, please, please," She was begging him, crying into his shoulder.

"I-I can't Y/N." Never had her name sounded so disgusting coming from his lips.

"I don't know what to do anymore Harry. I-I would rather die than be alone," She sobbed.

"Y/N you're never alone."

"You're ending this." She cried, "I'm alone."

He couldn't stand having this conversation and not being able to hold her. He stepped into the bathtub fully clothed and sat in front of her, reaching for her hand and holding it gently in his. The feeling of his skin seemed to ease some of the pain she had been feeling, but the loneliness still echoed throughout her.

"I don't know why I can't love you, Y/N, but it doesn't mean I don't feel anything about you. You have become my best friend—"

"I don't want to be your best friend. No, no," she shook her head. "You've killed me once by admitting you don't love me. Please don't send me to Hell by calling me your friend. Do you know how painful that is? I just want to be loved by you. Is that too much to ask? I have given everything, I have given everything to you. I rooted for you in every way possible. I have killed myself trying to get you to love me, and I don't think I even know who I am anymore because of it."

Harry didn't know what to say. He was selfish and a coward and undeserving of her love, and he wished she could see that.

"Y/N—"

"Please just leave."

His eyes watered at the thought of going about his life without her. He could feel the air around them grow thick, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe in. He felt like he was drowning at the thought of her leaving his life. Despite not loving her in the way she desired, he realized he would also be alone without her.

Maybe that was it.

All along, they had just been two people dealing with loneliness and coping with it differently. One used the other to fill the gaps in the spaces where they felt most alone, and the other fell hopelessly in love in hopes it would change them. That was the true nature of it, and even if they were meant to be together at some point, now was not the time.

"Listen to me," Harry whispered, collecting her hands and holding them to his chest. "I'm going to leave."

She choked on a sob.

"I don't want to do that." She shook her head. "I just want to be with you." The thought of the loneliness seeped into her pores, and she didn't think it would be possible for her to stay afloat as she drowned in it.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said softly, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I-I don't know what I'm doing."

She was taken aback by his tears and was unsure of what to do. It was the first time she had seen him cry, the first time she realized he was equally as afraid as she was. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.

This was the end.

"I love you, Harry. I really do," she whispered into his ear.

He couldn't reply, so he just sobbed even harder.

--

The days hadn't changed so much when Harry stepped out of Y/N's life.

They didn't talk much during the day when they were friends so Y/N went about carrying on her classes and speaking to Ollie who she appreciated more than ever as he comforted her when she was feeling at her worst. It was Ollie who made the days feel... a little less lonely.

She missed his touches and texting him on her phone but she tried to come up with ways to cope with that by watching youtube videos or drawing so she wasn't tempted to unblock him and forgive him again.

The nights were the hardest. Y/N hadn't realised that the only reason she'd been sleeping was because of Harry. She had tried to not take sleeping pills to help her get to sleep but sometimes she'd spend the entire night just painting in hopes it would made her tired.

Since they had some of the same friends now, Y/N knew of Harry's ventures through word of mouth. He had broke things off with the girl from the photo the day after Ollie's birthday party. Turns out they weren't really in an established relationship and the girl did know who Y/N was because Harry never stopped talking about Y/N when they were together.

That made her smile.

He was an assistant to a wedding photographer on the weekends so that he could save up some money for his own studio. She was happy to hear he was actually making the most of his talent instead of wasting it like she had considered doing multiple times.

Other than that, the days went by rather slowly and nothing out of the ordinary happened. She had been on dates here and there and was in her first real relationship in her third year of University but that only lasted a few months. Turns out he was cheating on her the entire time they were together which felt like one step forwards and two steps back.

Y/N moved into an apartment in central London after she graduated and did some freelancing as an illustrator whilst working weekends at a hotel and the evenings at a bar in Soho.

Her life was mundane but she was okay with that. She had spent so much time focusing on others that she forgot to focus on herself. She had started going to therapy, the gym, and even became vegetarian for a little while. She was no longer taking Xanax as often as she used to and spent less time thinking about Harry.

She wondered what he was up to from time to time but in the end, she just hoped he wasn't alone.

[kaiyunsim]

Adding weight —

pairing : idol!anton x male!reader x idol!eunseok

summary : after your adventures with anton in the gym before, his gymbro friend decides to tag along after taking a break from the gym. you all start to get along and maybe even too close for comfort?

warnings : SMUT!! (dni minors), unprotected sex, orgasm denial, threesome, drunk anton, eunseok being freaky, erm probably more idk tho,

a/n : i hope u guys enjoy cuz this is def not my best work. def taking a break from smut because i am not good at writing it. so, sorry if its not as good as the first part !

part 1 — part 2

— not proof read — (w/c : 3.1k) — minors dni —

anton didn’t usually share his workouts with anyone other than you lately. since their first steamy encounter, his sessions had taken on a new layer of excitement, catching your shy glances, enjoying the subtle touches as he spotted him, and the unspoken tension that hung between them. anton hadn’t defined what they were yet, and neither had you, but that uncertainty made it all the more exhilarating.

then there was eunseok, his best friend since high school, and his occasional training partner whenever he was in town and not busy. eunseok had a competitive spirit and a knack for pulling anton out of his comfort zone. they shared a deep trust, one that went back years and had been built on countless shared experiencesl.

one evening, eunseok showed up at anton’s apartment with a six-pack of beer and his usual bluntness. “so, who’s this gym crush you’ve been hiding?” he asks, flopping onto anton’s couch.

“why do you always jump to conclusions?” anton replies, a grin betraying him. but as they talk, he ended up admitting more than he planned about you. eunseok raises an eyebrow, intrigued by this side of anton he hadn’t seen before. as the night went on, eunseok couldn’t resist teasing him, but anton brushed it off. at least, he tried to.

later that night, when eunseok made it home, he had messaged anton the night before.

eunseok: yo, you hitting the gym tomorrow?

anton: yeah, 4am. before practice.

eunseok: cool. been too long. i’ll join. let’s see if you’ve gotten any better since last time.

anton smiles at the message. eunseok was competitive by default but also a good friend, always pushing anton to train harder. what anton hadn’t accounted for was what would happen if eunseok and you crossed paths.

the next morning, anton walks into the gym with eunseok. the two had always made an odd pair. where anton was reserved and quietly confident, eunseok was loud, playful, and loves being the center of attention. the session was just another in their regular routine, until they spot sam by the squat rack. you looked a little out of place, but you weren’t quite expecting to see anton with someone else.

as they approach the free weights section, anton’s pulse quickens when he spots you at the squat rack. dressed in his usual fitted shirt and sweatpants, you were mid-rep, your face focused, a light sheen of sweat glistening on your brow. you didn’t see them right away, which gave anton a moment to mentally prepare.

“hey, is that him?” eunseok asks, elbowing anton with a knowing smirk.

anton shot him a warning look. “don’t start.”

“i’m not starting anything,” eunseok says, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “just making observations. he’s cute.”

before anton could respond, you just finished your set and looked up, your face lighting up when you saw anton. your smile faltered slightly when you noticed eunseok, who was now watching you with an intrigued expression.

“morning,” anton greets, walking over. “y/n, this is eunseok, my training partner sometimes.”

you give a small smile and nods. “nice to meet you.”

“likewise,” eunseok replies, extending a hand. his grip is firm, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “so, you’re the guy who’s been keeping anton so busy these days?”

you chuckle nervously, glancing at anton, who looks mildly exasperated. “uh, i guess?”

“don’t mind him,” anton says quickly, brushing off eunseok’s teasing. “let’s just get started.”

eunseok was pretty experienced in his gym work. he would watch and correct anton and you whenever you were doing something wrong. he was even able to lift some heavier weights that you though were too scary to even try. eventually, you all have a break, sitting in silence as you try and regain any energy you have left.

“you know, y/n, you should come with us to grab a drink sometime,” eunseok says suddenly, breaking the silence. “i’ve got a feeling anton hasn’t introduced you to the real him yet.” his words were teasing, but there was a hint of challenge there. anton nudges eunseok to stop.

you blink, looking between them. “i’d like that,” you say, your voice soft but genuine.

after eunseok convinced you to join him and anton for a drink. anton was reluctant at first, knowing how unpredictable things could get when he and eunseok drank together. but you seemed eager, and something about the idea of the three of them hanging out outside of the gym sounded… exciting.

they met at a quiet, dimly lit bar that eunseok had picked. he know the bartender, and by the second round, they had their own booth in the corner, tucked away from the crowd.

they began drinking and as the drinks flowed, the usual gym banter turned into more personal stories, funny childhood memories, embarrassing confessions, and stories of wild nights they barely remember. anton nurses his whiskey while you stuck to beer, but eunseok kept a steady pace, ordering rounds and toasting to everything from “surviving leg day” to “making new friends.”

halfway through the evening, anton starts loosening up, his usual reserved demeanor softened by the alcohol. he laughs more openly, his arm slung across the back of the booth, occasionally bumping into you as they talk. you, who had been watching anton with quiet fascination, found yourself leaning closer, drawn to anton’s warmth and the easy way he smiled when he was with eunseok.

“anton’s always been like this,” eunseok says, nudging you with a grin. “all stoic and serious, but get a few drinks in him and he’s a total softie.”

anton rolls his eyes but didn’t pull away. “i’m not a softie,” he mutters, but his voice was relaxed, and there is a faint smile tugging at his lips.

eunseok smirks, leaning back and stretching his arms behind his head. “sure, whatever you say, man. but don’t think i haven’t noticed the way you’ve been acting around y/n here.”

anton blinks, glancing at you, whose cheeks were already flushed. “what do you mean?” he asks, his tone playful but slightly defensive.

“oh, come on,” eunseok groans, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “you’re always watching him. spotting him. and now here we are, all cozy in a booth after hours?”

by the third round, anton was visibly tipsy. He isn’t sloppy, anton is the kind of drunk that made him affectionate and a bit too honest. his cheeks were flushed, his laughter more frequent, and his filter had all but disappeared.

you sip your beer, watching anton with amusement as he leans against the table, gesturing animatedly while recounting a story about a disastrous hiking trip eunseok had dragged him on years ago.

“—and this guy,” anton says, pointing a slightly wobbly finger at eunseok, “thought it would be fun to take a shortcut through a swamp. a swamp, y/n!” he leans closer to you, his face is a picture of exaggerated disbelief. “we were ankle-deep in mud for an hour.”

you chuckle, your eyes crinkling. “sounds like you’ve had a lot of adventures together.”

“too many,” anton replies, grinning as he tilts his glass for another sip. “but that’s eunseok for you. always... always pushing boundaries.” His voice softened on the last part, his gaze briefly flicking to eunseok, who raises his glass with a smug grin.

eunseok leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you. “and what about you? what’s the most adventurous thing you’ve done, y/n?”

eunseok raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing smile. “i don’t believe that for a second. you’ve been hitting the gym, pushing yourself. you’re definitely braver than you give yourself credit for.”

you felt your cheeks warm under eunseok’s gaze. there was something about the way eunseok spoke, direct, but with a subtle challenge. that made you feel both nervous and intrigued.

“y/n's braver than he thinks,” anton interjects, his voice slightly slurred but earnest. he rests his arm across the back of the booth, his hand brushing against your shoulder. “i mean, he’s doing great at the gym. strong. determined. and… and you’re just, like… really cool, you know?” he gives you a lopsided grin, his eyes sparkling with the kind of sincerity only drunkenness could amplify.

you laugh, ducking your head. “thanks, anton. you’re not so bad yourself.”

eunseok chuckles, leaning back and crossing his arms. “you’re such a softie when you drink, anton. it’s adorable.”

Anton shoots him a mock glare. “i’m not a softie. i’m just… honest. and you!” he points at eunseok, his tone turning playful. “you’re always trying to steal the spotlight. don’t think I don’t notice.”

eunseok raises his hands innocently. “hey, i’m just here to make sure y/n feels welcome. you’ve been hogging him all to yourself at the gym.”

anton frowns, looking between you and eunseok as if just realizing something. “you do spend a lot of time talking to him lately,” he mumbles, his words slightly slurred.

eunseok smirks, leaning toward you. “can you blame me? y/n’s good company.” His voice drops slightly, a flirtatious edge creeping in. “and he’s got this quiet confidence about him. i like that.”

your eyes widen slightly, unsure how to respond. anton, however, isn’t having it. he sits up straighter, his expression somewhere between amused and indignant. “hey, hey, hey. don’t go making him uncomfortable.”

eunseok chuckles. “relax, anton. i’m just being friendly.”

anton narrows his eyes at him, then turns to you, his tone softening. “you’re not uncomfortable, are you? because i’ll kick his ass if you are.”

you laugh nervously, shaking his head. “no, i’m fine. really.”

“see?” eunseok says, clinking his glass against yours. “we’re good.”

but anton isn’t satisfied. he leans closer to you, his hand finding its way to your knee under the table. “just so you know,” he playfully warns, his voice quieter but no less slurred, “you don’t have to put up with eunseok’s crap. i got your back.”

you smile, your heart skipping a beat at the warmth in anton’s gaze. “thanks, anton. i appreciate that.” you reply playfully back, knowing it’s his drunkenness speaking.

eunseok watches the exchange with a knowing smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. and maybe something else… “wow, anton. protective much?”

anton waves a hand dismissively, nearly knocking over his glass. “whatever. you’re just jealous because y/n likes me better.”

eunseok laughs, leaning in close enough that his shoulder brushed against yours. “oh, i don’t know about that. y/n, what do you think? who’s your favorite training partner?”

you blink, suddenly caught between anton’s earnestness and eunseok’s playful challenge. “uh…”

anton groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder dramatically. “don’t answer that. he’s trying to start something.”

eunseok grins. “am i? or am i just making things… interesting?”

you laugh, the tension easing slightly as he looked between the two of them. you couldn’t deny that there was something electric about being caught in the middle of their dynamic, anton’s warmth and sincerity on one side, and eunseok’s teasing confidence on the other.

eunseok moves close to you, pushing the boundaries as he places a hand your thigh softly, “you’re looking really good tonight.” anton, being the jealous drunk he is, quickly places his hand around your shoulder and gives you a jealous glare. he even goes in to kiss you and his lips land peacefully into yours, more aggressively than usual. he’s more possessive like this.

eunseok finds the situation funny, anton being so jealous. after you guys kiss, eunseok don’t even give you a chance to take a breath as your lips quickly land into his. your taken by surprise and as you pull back you look at him wide eyed, not in a bad way.

hits hands find their way to your waist, tugging you closer. anton also wants some of you so he takes your chin and pulls it towards him, capturing your mouth with his.

eunseok, being the teasing, boundary pushing man he is, tugs your shirt up, revealing your lean stomach to the two.

“eunseok, we’re in public…” you say with worry.

“i told you i know the guy who runs this place. trust me. i got us a good spot.” eunseok smirks, by a good spot eunseok asked the owner if he could get the booth in the corner cause he knows no one would check on them.

with that, he spins you around and repositions you so your on your back while on the table with your head towards anton and you behind to eunseok.

— smut ahead !! —

eunseok grazes his hands over your buldge, which he noticed was growing. “aww looks like someone wanted some attention”

you reply with nothing but a gulp, both scared and excited for what’s to come.

before you noticed, the intoxicated anton already unblucked and unzipped his pants, leaving his buldge in his underwear in front of your face. you decide to help relieve him and pull them down to reveal that same cock that hit you up last time.

“i forgot how horny anton gets when he’s drunk. we don’t take him to parties anymore…” eunseok chuckles

“shut the fuck up” anton replies, clearly embarassed but also doesn’t care because of all the liquor in his system. he pressed the hard shaft on your lips. you know what to do next so you spread your lips open to take it in.

you start to choke as anton pushes all of it in every thrust, enjoying the warmth that comes from your mouth.

eunseok sees what is taking place in front of him and want’s some attention too. he undoes your pants and you’re distracted with anton and pulls both your pants and underwear down at the same time, your cock popping up. he jerks it at a fast pace while undoing his own pants.

you squirm at the dual sensation from both anton and eunseok. you didnmt know who to focus on but it didn’t matter because you were getting equal attention from both. “god, you’re so responsive aren’t you?” eunseok teases. “i like that”

sooner or later, his clothes find their way off of him, you aren’t able to see how big his cock is but you can definitely feel it as he thrusts roughly, hitting your prostate almost immediately.

the sudden and tight intrusion in your entrance makes you cough around anton’s cock as well. as if the dual sensation before was too much, you feel overstimulated as the two men work on both of your holes. your moans would only be muffled from the girth of anton’s cock in your mouth, taking up the space in it.

anton begins to whimper and softly moan at how good his cock feels in your mouth, it was immacutlate. his cock felt good and your ears were blessed with drunk anton noises.

eunseok never backed down, if anything, he picked up the pace, running his cock deep into your hole. his hands move to your back, pushing you back to make it arch, only making his dick push harder and harder. “like my cock in you? you’re taking it so well”

you can’t even process what eunseok said, you just respond with muffled moans and whimpers.

“fuck, keep making those noises and i’m gonna cum, y/n…” anton blurts out. to no surprise, you keep making the noises, the stimulation was too much that made your brain empty other than the two hot men pumping their dicks into you.

with you not stopping, anton feels his climax building ip and eventually releases his sees into your mouth. you swallow in reaction.

anton pulls out of your mouth allowing you to gasp for air. with eunseok still thrusting into you, your gasps for air was also combined with moans that would’ve been heard if eunseok didn’t put you in a secret booth.

“taking my cock so nicely.” eunseok teasingly comments, “want me to cum?”

you can only nod, wanting to feel his seed in you. and sooner or later eunseok’s pade reaches an ultime high, comebined with the noises you make which turns into cries, not of sadness, but pleasure. eunseok hits you with one final thrust which is accompanied by his cum filling you up. nicely and warm in your hole as you lay there without much energy left.

“fuck,” he groans, “your turn to cum now,” he says with a smirk, wanting you to cum as he and anton already did.

he grasps your cock like he did before, and strokes it with a fast pace. anton, wanting to get in on the action, takes your faces and kisses your lips, absolutely feeling your lips out.

eunseoks pace brings you close, squirming and moaning in anton’s mouth. seeing you react so easily to his hands on you. he knows your reaching your climax, with all you were enduring earlier, but decides to twist it up a little bit

he lets go of your cock, ending all stimulation around it. you pull back from anton’s lips, letting out a little whimper in the process. “w-why eunseok..?” you ask him, grabbing his arm, trying to get him to resume his actions.

he just gives you a smirk, chuckling darkly not long after. “beg for it then.”

“what?”

“you heard me. beg” eunseok repeats.

you remained stunned, this sudden turn from eunseok. it wasn’t too surprising though, as he liked to push boundaries as usual. you were too desperate to have your release that you would do whatever to let it happen.

“p-please eunseok…”

“please what?”

“please let me cum”

with that he grasps onto your shaft resuming the quick pace he was at before. anton’s hands going all over your body before peacefully landing on your nipples to help play with them.

with the sensations coming back to you, you feel your climax building up. white spurts come out, landing on eunseoks hand. your body twitches with each wave that comes out and the feeling of dopamine is something that you never felt before.

you feel like you’re going to pass out from it but anton picks you up and puts you back down on the seat.

“that was something” eunseok says, back to his normal teasing self.

“y-yeah” you respond, still recovering.

“you took it too far seok” anton complains.

“yeah right, y/n was totally into it”

“was not”

“was to”

this banter carried on, you smiled, thinking how cute it is.

“wait…” eunseok blurts out, suddenly remembering something, “anton, we fucking have practice tomorrow don’t we?”

anton has a small pause before answering, “shit, yeah we do”

eunseok finds his phone ringing on silent, it was likely on for a while as it was warm. it was from shotaro, probably looking for him. “taro is looking for us”

“fuck he’s going to be mad, isn’t he…”

[delulustateofmind]

Yan!JJK x Reader: How you met!

Fun Fact: It's wholesome! What could possibly go wrong in the future? :)

Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso and Shoko!

TW: Mentions of partying (it's brief), pet names, maid cafe (Suguru gets a little pervy thoughts), Mostly Fluff. Oh but it's yandere fluff :)

WC: 5.1K

A/n: So anytime I do a Yan!JJK this is the lore for those headcannons. I might make it, its own masterlist? idk still debating. Also, I rotated through so many ideas. My drafts for this are insane (Literally). I tried different variations for each one. Feel free to give me feedback if there are certain yan tendencies you want to see.

The dark content for this week: How they kidnapped you :)

Satoru: Are you an angel?  

Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the century, was running a high fever.

Swaying slightly as he walked down a quiet neighborhood street, his head spinning, he tried to focus. He just needed to get to the pick-up location. That was it. He could handle it.

But it was getting harder to concentrate. The heat of the summer sun seemed to beat down on him relentlessly, his body too weak to handle the intensity. His normally steady steps faltered, and for a moment, he thought he might collapse.

Then, he heard it. A soft, sweet voice, like the melody of an angel.

“You alright?”

Gojo turned his head toward the sound. An angel?

There you were, standing in front of your apartment, your hands gently watering the flowers that lined your balcony. You were older than him—maybe five years, judging by the way you carried yourself, the maturity in your voice, the way you looked at the world like you had it all figured out. There was something about you that made his pulse quicken. Why was he feeling this way?

He blinked, his feverish thoughts clouding his focus. You were so gentle, so sweet. His head throbbed, but your soft gaze was like a balm.

“Come have a seat here,” you continued, your voice soothing. “And is that a blindfold? Honey, that’s probably why you’re running a fever. We’re going through a heat wave, you know?”

You chuckled lightly, but it wasn’t condescending. No, it was sweet, nurturing. You carefully led him to the small outdoor patio that was adorned with delicate chairs and a charming little table, a tiny vase of flowers sitting in the center.

Gojo followed, his head still dizzy. How could an angel like you ever trick him?

You weren’t just sweet, you were… perfect. He couldn't remember the last time he’d been so caught up in someone like this. His usual cocky, overconfident demeanor felt like it was slipping away, replaced by something softer, more desperate. Something he’d never let anyone see—until now.

You guided him into one of the chairs with gentle hands, taking the blindfold from his face with the same tenderness. His fevered skin flushed under your touch. He couldn't help but let out a low groan of relief as the air hit his face, the sensation a small comfort amidst the haze of his fever.

"Stay here for a minute," you said softly, your smile so warm and sincere that it made his heart skip. "I’ll be right back with something for you."

He nodded, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over him. There was no reason to leave now. He felt dizzy, weak, and content to stay under your care forever.

And when you returned, he saw that you weren’t just being kind—oh no, you were going above and beyond.

You made him rice balls, neatly wrapped in seaweed, and a glass of iced tea, its chilled surface sweating under the heat of the day. Homemade baked goods sat on a small plate next to the drinks, their scent filling the air with sweetness.

"You must be hungry," you said, setting the food down in front of him with a smile. "It’s not much, but I thought it might help."

Gojo picked up one of the rice balls, staring at it for a moment. There was no way he could say no to you. He didn’t even want to. Your kindness, your soft voice, the way you treated him like he wasn’t just the strongest sorcerer, but someone who needed care—it was intoxicating.

He bit into the rice ball, the taste as comforting as your presence.

You were perfect. Sweet, caring, thoughtful, and so effortlessly graceful. It was as though the universe had put you in his path, just for him.

But he knew better than to trust anyone so easily.

Gojo’s mind was clouded, his thoughts sluggish under the fever’s grip, but there was one thing he was sure of: You were too good to be trusted.

You were standing right beside him, still watching him with those soft, caring eyes as if you really cared about him. Your gaze was warm, concerned, but—he couldn’t help it—he felt a twinge of doubt. People like you didn’t just act like that without wanting something. He’d seen this before, felt it too—people were always after something, even when they pretended to be kind.

And yet, in the back of his mind, a darker part of him couldn’t shake the thought. Maybe this time was different. Maybe you weren’t like the others.

“Thank you,” he murmured between bites, his voice thick with something more than just gratitude. Did rice balls always taste this good? 

You hummed sweetly, a soft smile playing on your lips as you shrugged. "Just doing the right thing."

You weren’t just being kind—no, you were going out of your way to care for him. It felt too personal, too intimate, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the more you did for him, the more he wanted from you.

“You shouldn’t be wearing all that black during a heat wave, y’know?” you chided lightly, your voice lilting with that same gentle concern. But when you looked into his eyes, Gojo couldn’t miss the way your gaze lingered, like you were looking at him— just him. Sick, weak, and so very human.

He wanted to laugh at the thought. He was Gojo Satoru, after all. The strongest, untouchable. But in this moment, with you here, something about the way you cared for him made him feel... vulnerable.

“Even the cicadas aren’t singing today," you said, tilting your head as if you were pondering something deeper. "Is there somebody I can call for you?"

Gojo’s pulse quickened at the soft weight of your words, the way you framed your question. Was it concern? Or was it an invitation? He leaned back slightly, the fever making his thoughts blur, but he didn’t want to let go of that feeling of closeness you’d given him.

Someone to call?

A soft, amused smirk spread across Gojo’s face as he locked eyes with you. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice low and almost teasing. But inside, something darker flickered. “But... if you really insist, you could always stay with me for a while. Keep an eye on me.”

You blinked, caught off guard, but there was no hesitation in your answer. You didn’t sense the undercurrent of possessiveness in his words, didn’t feel the quiet edge to his smile. You were too kind, too innocent, to see the real reason Gojo had said it.

But Gojo? He knew what he was doing.

You had helped him. You had made him feel seen.

And now... well, now he would make sure you never left his side. 

Suguru: Maid to Fall for You

The girls were turning six this weekend, and all they could ask for was some… magical girl doll? Suguru recognized the figures. Satoru used to make him watch that show all the time. Yet, did they really need to sexualize the magical girls so much? 

Suguru was genuinely concerned—how could anyone fight in a mini skirt and high-heeled boots? But, if that’s what the girls wanted, then that’s what they would get.

The problem was that the doll was so limited edition, the only place in Tokyo that had it was this… maid cafe? Suguru sighed, looking at the cute pastel pink exterior of the shop. He had missions to complete and didn’t exactly want to be seen here.

As the bell above the door jingled when he stepped inside, Suguru scanned the room. His eyes were immediately caught by you.

Was it the pretty lolita black dress with the dark red bow tied around your waist? Or maybe it was the collar wrapped around your neck, or the cute garters hugging the soft fat of your thighs. Perhaps it was the little cat ears with bells that sat perched atop your head. 

No… it had to be the way you looked at him. Your flushed face, the innocent sparkle in your dewy eyes as you purred, “Welcome home, Master!”

Oh, God. Suguru had to bite his lip to stifle a frustrated groan. The cuteness aggression was overwhelming. He just wanted to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, maybe chain you to his bed so no one could ever find out how adorable you were.

No. No, he couldn’t think like that. He was here for one thing, and one thing only. He wasn’t some pervert who went to maid cafes. But still… he couldn't help but wonder if the dress came with matching… No! He couldn’t think like that either.

“Yes, I, uh…” Suguru, fumbling with his words? A first. “I need a limited edition magical girl doll. The pink one and… the purple one?”

You blinked for a moment, and then your eyes lit up in recognition. 

“You’re a fan of Magical Girl: X&X too? Oh my goodness, I’m a huge fan too!” 

You squealed, practically bouncing on your heels as you turned to lead him toward the back of the store. Suguru had to look away, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tried to keep his gaze from lingering on how cute you were. Focus, Suguru. Focus.

You practically skipped toward the back of the store, the sound of your little heels clicking on the floor making Suguru’s heart race. He couldn’t stop his eyes from following the sway of your hips as you led him deeper into the shop. The way the skirt of your dress swished, revealing cute little bloomers under your petticoat. He mentally slapped himself. He had  to keep his thoughts in check, focusing on the task at hand. Geto Suguru was not some pervert! 

As you reached the display, you turned to face him with an excited gleam in your eye. “Here it is! The last one in stock,” you said, pointing proudly to a pair of limited edition dolls. The pink one, with her sparkling pigtails, and the purple one, holding a very magical looking wand. 

Suguru's gaze briefly flickered to the dolls, but then it shifted back to you. The way your eyes lit up, the excitement in your voice—it was all so… intoxicating. Like you were holding onto his every word. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, still not quite sure how to behave around you. "I didn’t expect… I didn’t think it would be so hard to get."

You giggled, a soft, melodic sound that made something flutter in his chest. “Well, Magical Girl: X&X is a very popular series! It’s hard to find the dolls, especially the limited edition ones. I’m glad you came in time.”

Suguru didn’t trust his voice to speak anymore. He just nodded and pulled out his wallet, handing over the money. You didn’t even look at the transaction, instead continuing to talk to him as you carefully wrapped the dolls in bright, crinkling pink paper.

Focus, Suguru. Focus on the dolls. You’re just here for the dolls.

But how could he? His eyes couldn’t seem to leave the way you tilted your head just slightly, your little cat ears bobbing with every movement. The little jingle that came with every movement. And the way you smiled at him, so genuinely, with that adorable little glint in your eyes that made something inside of him twist. He couldn’t stop it—his heart was pounding, and his brain was screaming at him to do something.

You handed him the dolls with such enthusiasm, your hands barely brushing against his fingers as you passed the package over to him.

Oh god, even the way you handed me the dolls is cute. Why are you so cute?

Suguru swallowed hard, the overwhelming desire to just… hug you, smother you, rising up in his chest. He wanted to pick you up, hold you close, and just protect you from the world. He wanted to be the only person you ever looked at, the only one you ever smiled at like that.

You were practically defenseless anyways. 

But he had to hold himself back. He couldn’t be that person, could he? No, no—he was here for a reason. He was supposed to be here for the dolls. 

“Uh… Thanks,” Suguru managed to choke out, his voice coming out hoarse and unsteady. He was so aware of the way his hands were shaking, holding the package. He needed to leave. Now.

But you were still looking up at him, your lips curving into a playful little smile. “You know, you’re really serious about this, aren’t you, Master?” You giggled, the sound so light, so melodic that Suguru almost felt like he could die from the sheer cuteness of it all. 

No, no, stop, Suguru! Stop!

“I—yeah, I guess,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at you. His gaze darted over to the corner of the room, anywhere but those soft eyes that were making his chest feel like it was going to explode. 

The urge to reach out and squeeze your cheeks—to just hold you—was so strong. His fingers twitched, his jaw clenched. He wanted to pull you closer, get a better look at how delicate you were, how fragile. 

“I hope you enjoy your figures, Master!” You brightly smiled up at him. God, how he wanted to strangle that pretty little neck of yours. How he wanted to tug on that collar so tight that you were choking with tears in your eyes. How he wanted to bite your cheeks to see what sounds you’d make. 

Stop smiling like that. Stop acting so cute. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

His hands tightened around the package, the sharp edges digging into his palm. He wanted to scream, to yell at you to stop making him feel like this. But instead, he just smiled back, a smile that felt more like a grimace than anything else. 

“Right… right. I will,” Suguru said, his voice barely a whisper now. “I’ll… I’ll come back soon.” He forced the words out, though they felt foreign on his tongue. The truth was, he didn’t just want to come back—he wanted to stay. He wanted to be close to you. He wanted to know everything about you, every little detail. 

You smiled even wider, completely unaware of the danger you were putting yourself in. “I’ll be here! I’ll be waiting for you, Master!”

Suguru turned on his heel, trying desperately to calm his racing heart as he walked toward the door. But the entire time, his thoughts were consumed by you. The way you looked at him. The way your voice sounded when you called him “Master.” 

His thoughts spiraled as he stepped outside, gripping the package tightly in his hands. His chest felt tight, constricted. He had never felt this way about anyone before. This level of intensity, this overwhelming desire to possess and protect—it was like nothing he had ever experienced. He didn’t know whether to run or stay. All he knew was that you were the most perfect person he had ever met, and the more he thought about you, the more he spiraled.

But you were still so innocent. So dumb to how he felt. And that—that—was what made it so unbearable.

Nanami: Online Dating

Nanami Kento didn’t have time for dating. Not that anyone believed him when he expressed that.

Gojo, that meddling idiot, had sneakily downloaded a dating app on his phone, swiping through profiles until Nanami found himself matched with you—a party girl, as Gojo put it. The last thing Nanami needed was some whirlwind romance or a string of distractions. He had work to do, responsibilities to handle. Yet here he was, standing outside a quaint little café, a man of routine now playing the part of someone interested in this game.

He glanced down at the photos on his phone. There you were: pictures of you laughing with friends at clubs, holding drinks in your hands, the glamorous nights out at fancy restaurants. And then there were the modeling shots—posing next to sleek supercars, all shiny and polished. Nanami’s lips pressed into a thin line.

He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know you were probably a disaster waiting to happen. You had issues, he could tell. And that was the last thing he wanted to get entangled in. He wasn't the type to judge a book by its cover, but he knew enough to assume you wouldn’t be the kind of woman he'd ever bring home to his parents.

His brows furrowed slightly, a sigh leaving his lips as he shoved the phone into his pocket. He adjusted his long coat, letting the cool evening breeze swirl around him. This date was probably going to be a waste of time.

Then, out of nowhere, you appeared.

You walked toward him in a soft pink maxi dress, the delicate fabric flowing behind you like some ethereal vision. A simple, sweet white bow tied neatly in your hair. You radiated a charm, an innocence that Nanami hadn’t expected, and for a brief moment, his chest tightened with something he couldn’t immediately place.

You smiled at him, sweet and genuine, and he couldn't help but feel...

“Am I late?” you asked softly, your head tilting as you looked up at him, your eyes bright with genuine concern. “Sorry, I had a late shift at the cocktail bar I work at, so I was really worried I was going to—”

Your voice trailed off as you noticed the strange expression on his face. Nanami blinked, clearing his throat, but the chill of his cynicism seemed to melt under your gaze. The hardness in his chest softened, and that unsettling feeling gnawed at him again, the one that made him feel like he should be on guard. But why? Why did you make him feel like this?

“No,” he said, his voice gruff but steady. “You’re fine. I’m just... surprised.”

He hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud, but there it was. He was surprised—surprised by how genuine you seemed. It wasn’t the image he’d built in his mind based on the photos. He was used to women who were superficial, all looks and no substance, but you… you didn’t fit that mold.

You smiled again, this time a little more shyly, before giving a small nod. “I’m glad. I really didn’t want to make you wait too long.”

Nanami nodded curtly, unsure of what to do with this strange reaction inside him. His eyes studied you more closely now, noting the little details—the way you moved with a kind of quiet grace that almost made him forget the judgment he had passed on you. You weren’t like the other women he’d met, and that was... unsettling.

You stepped closer, the scent of your perfume—something light and floral—lingering in the air around him. He found it strangely intoxicating, though he hated to admit it.

"So, what do you want to do?" you asked, the sweetness in your tone making him feel almost... guilty. He was supposed to be the one guiding this evening, not you. But it was hard to ignore the pull you had over him already.

He cleared his throat again, pushing the discomfort aside. “I was thinking dinner. Nothing fancy.”

You smiled softly, your eyes twinkling, but there was something behind that smile—something that made his stomach twist, and not from discomfort. It was an entirely different kind of tension, one he had no intention of analyzing too deeply.

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed.

As the Date Continues:

Nanami hadn’t expected much, but as the evening wore on, he found himself listening to you in a way he hadn’t done for a long time. You weren’t just talkative, you were engaging, and each laugh that escaped your lips seemed to stir something inside him. You were kind, warm, easy to talk to—and it was starting to unsettle him. This wasn’t what he had imagined, and that, in and of itself, was a problem.

Every time you reached across the table to grab your drink, or brushed a lock of hair from your face, Nanami couldn’t shake the growing sense of... need. It wasn’t the typical attraction he felt—this was different. You were slipping under his skin in a way that was both dangerous and familiar.

By the time the meal was over, Nanami was no longer concerned about how out of place he felt. He was no longer thinking about the party girl who didn’t fit into his carefully constructed life. Instead, he found himself obsessed with the way you moved, the way you spoke. Everything about you now seemed... necessary.

“Are you sure you want to head home alone?” Nanami asked, his voice quieter than before.

You paused, blinking in surprise, but your smile remained sweet. “I’m used to it. My apartment’s not far.”

For a moment, Nanami didn’t speak, just watched you with an unreadable look in his eyes. 

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said finally, his tone calm, as he gave you a smile. “It’s the right thing to do” 

Choso: Heart Shaped Lattes

Choso stood outside the small café nestled in the heart of Akihabara, waiting for Yuji and his friends. The city buzzed around him, but he remained still, his gaze distant as he watched the passing crowds. His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling his attention. It was a message from his little brother:

“Sorry Choso! We’re running a bit behind, you can order first if you want! :)”

Of course, he wasn’t upset. Even though Yuji was already fifteen minutes late, and Choso had been awkwardly standing alone outside, he would never feel anger toward his brother. It was just a small thing. A human thing.

With a quiet sigh, he pushed open the café door, and the familiar sounds of clinking cups and soft lofi music washed over him. The dimly lit interior felt cozy, a warm contrast to the bustling streets outside. Choso’s tired eyes scanned the room, his thoughts clouded as he made his way to the counter, gaze fixed on the floor.

“One latte. Please,” he ordered in his usual low, steady voice. He glanced up at the menu, as if the words there would help him understand what to say next. “Hot.”

It was the only drink Yuji had introduced him to, and despite its simplicity, Choso had come to enjoy it. There was something comforting about it. Something predictable. He was still getting used to this—this human lifestyle, the routine, the small moments that made up their lives.

The barista behind the counter smiled, her eyes warm as she took his order. Choso barely noticed the kindness in her expression, too focused on his own thoughts to appreciate the way she smiled at him. She handed him the receipt with a soft clink, and he nodded in acknowledgment before stepping away to find a table.

The café wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. It was just the right amount of busy that allowed Choso to sit quietly in the corner, unnoticed. He chose a seat by the window, glancing at his phone again to see if Yuji had messaged. Nothing. He smiled faintly. He could wait. He had all the time in the world.

A moment later, his latte arrived, set on the table with a soft clink of ceramic against wood. Choso’s eyes flicked down to the cup as the barista placed it in front of him. He froze.

There, on the surface of the coffee, was something unexpected. A perfect heart, etched into the foam.

Choso’s breath caught in his throat. His mind spun in confusion. Why was his heart beating so fast? Was it—an enemy? Was someone threatening him? No… that wasn’t it. This wasn’t danger. It was something else. Something he didn’t understand.

Blood rushed to his face, and he quickly glanced away, his eyes darting around the café in a frantic search for a distraction. But there was nothing. Nothing to explain this. 

No. It wasn’t possible. Was it?

His gaze snapped back to the barista. The girl who had taken his order. Her face was bathed in the soft glow of the café lights, and now that he was looking—really looking—he saw how stunning she was. Her lips were slightly pressed, a small concentration as she worked, preparing drinks with smooth, delicate movements.

You. You were the one who had made the heart in his coffee.

Choso swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His pulse was erratic, the sensation almost overwhelming. 

A heart. You had put a heart in his latte. The pretty little barista.

That must mean… love, right?

His mind raced with the possibilities. Was this some kind of sign? A gesture? Were you—interested in him?

No. It couldn’t be. He didn’t even know your name. He had barely spoken to you, hadn’t even properly looked at you until now. But still… the heart was something. It had to mean something.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as you moved behind the counter, your every action now laced with meaning. The simple task of preparing drinks had transformed into something so intimate, so personal.

Choso leaned forward, his fingers curling tightly around the edge of his coffee cup. His thoughts churned as he stared….at that sweet little heart. 

Yuji and his friends would be here soon, but for now, he was lost. Lost in the warmth of the coffee, and in the warmth of a feeling that was new—and so very dangerous. A feeling that crept into his chest, tugging at something dark inside him.

Choso couldn’t help himself. He ordered at least three more drinks before his friends showed up. His heart is racing every time. Each time, you greeted him with that same smile, handing him the perfect coffee, each cup as flawless as the last. Each one had that sweet little heart in the foam. When you even gave him a free pastry—something small, something extra—he was sure of it. 

Surely, this was love.

Surely, he was meant to be here every day, because you two—you and him—were meant for each other, right?

This was what a soulmate was. 

Shoko: Medical School 

Oh, medical school. What a joke.

Shoko could cheat her way through most of her labs using her technique—healing, manipulating, fixing. But there was one thing she couldn’t control, couldn’t fake: Organic Chemistry.

She could easily fix broken bones, curse away a cold, hell, when her students lost limbs, Shoko could put them back together without even breaking a sweat. But Organic Chemistry? That was her undoing.

How was she supposed to understand what a nucleophilic attack was? Why were there shapes in chemistry?

It was a joke.

Which, of course, led her to you.

It was a slow morning, and Shoko dragged herself to the lecture hall, already exhausted from last night’s work. She slumped into the back row, hoping to at least catch a nap while pretending to take notes. Her eyes half-lidded, she scanned the room, not expecting anything interesting. That was until you—sweet, innocent little you—sat right next to her.

“Hah... I was worried I wasn’t going to make it. I never miss a lecture, y’know!” You said brightly, your accent heavy from one of the more rural areas of Japan. You were so… casual, so warm.

You leaned over, extending your hand to her with a smile. “I’m Y/n, and you are…?”

Shoko blinked, looking at your outstretched hand for a long beat, her gaze flickering from the innocent shine in your eyes to the warmth in your palm. She didn’t even bother to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips.

“Ieiri Shoko,” she hummed, amusement dancing in her tone as she took your hand and gave it a firm shake.

You were like a cute little puppy, weren’t you? Too trusting, too innocent.

She could already picture you with a tail wagging—completely unaware of what she might do to you.

Then, her gaze shifted.

You pulled out your notes—so detailed, so organized. Color-coded, of course, and even had cute little doodles in the margins explaining everything. A simple little smiley face here, a heart there, like a child’s drawing. Everything was perfect.

It irritated her. Not in the usual way. It wasn’t jealousy. No, it was something else. Something darker. Something that whispered: You’re the answer. You could help me…

Shoko’s eyes lingered on the page as she tried to suppress the urge to take those notes. She wasn’t proud of it, but—well, she had to admit it to herself. Organic Chemistry was her weakness. And you? You were her ticket to fixing that.

It didn’t take long for Shoko to fail the first exam. She’d be fine, of course. She could always cheat. But for now, it was an excuse to get closer to you.

She leaned over, her tone casual, but with a hint of something more—something almost… possessive.

“Your notes,” she began, voice dripping with barely-contained amusement, “they’re cute.”

Your face lit up immediately, a pure excitement in your eyes as you beamed at her. “Oh, thank you! I almost always get a seat in the front, but today I just missed my train after my shift at the Lawson, and well—”

Shoko didn’t need the backstory. She never did.

Her lips curled into a teasing, playful pout, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes, which glinted with something more dangerous. She leaned in just a little closer, lowering her voice.

“Could you lend them to me?” she asked, her tone silky and smooth, the words almost too innocent. “I really need them for studying. And I didn’t quite catch everything in the lecture…”

Your enthusiasm was infectious. You beamed, completely unaware of the darker edge in her voice. “Well, I can’t exactly lend them to you…but I could give you a copy!” you chimed brightly. Your excitement was so pure, so sweet, it made Shoko have to stifle a laugh.

Oh, you were cute.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if she were plotting something already. “Sure, sure. How about you come over to my apartment and drop them off, yeah? Maybe we could study together too… You seem to know your stuff.”

She watched as you nodded eagerly, too eager. Someone could just easily kidnap you, couldn’t they?

“Oh, that would be great! Here’s all my contact information!” you chirped, pulling out your phone and eagerly handing it to her.

Shoko took the phone from your hand, the faintest smile playing at her lips. 

You had already caught her interest. In more ways than one.