#if i need to be broke to slowly further my dreams so be it

[tirfpikachu]

sometimes you have nothing left to lose and everything to gain so without even choosing to do so you end up being more authentic and shameless than ever before. and when you do things it feels like an actual human being, an actual being completing tasks, and those tasks feel like ghibli movies, they feel like domesticity, and even if you live alone it's like you live with a roommate who is always there for you (yourself, your truest self) and before you know it you're thinking of that being living within you, that being you repressed, as your self, as your body, and you forget the fake mask you thought was yourself for years and years because others liked you better that way.

suddenly, when you care about other people's opinions, you start having standards about which people's opinions you hold onto, and you still find yourself placing your ideas as #1 on your list of priorities, because who else knows you better? who else has lived in your shoes, in your mind? only you have. others are simply making assumptions about what's going on in your mind and in your life. even your beloved spouse or bestest of friends would still not know what you are truly like deep down unless you tell her. only you are there for yourself 24/7, and only you know your entire journey from within!

choose yourself!!! choose yourself above everything else!

choose to put out there who you truly are, warts and all. because there is not a single flaw or trait or quirk in yourself that you would never find endearing and lovable and harmless in someone else. the greatest shame is being a hypocrite and inauthentic to the weird, scrungly, beloved creature you truly are. you are so human. you are so strange yet so normal. you are a breathing, living being. there is nothing wrong with you that you are incapable of welcoming with warm, open arms; chances are, you have already done so with others. you are your own cheerleader, trusted advisor, and closest friend. it's time to have that frenemies to soulmates arc with yourself. see it as a 2025 challenge. stop being the mask, begin simply existing.

[dollracha]

𐙚 i want it ⋆ h.js x fem! reader pt. 2

part one ⋆ part two

pairing: han jisung x inexperienced! reader genre: smut, smau warnings: swearing ⋆ spit kink⋆ virginity ⋆ needy han ⋆ slight perv!han ⋆ reader is called “baby” and “pretty girl” ⋆ no use of “y/n” ⋆ reader is referred to by she/her pronouns ⋆ piv ⋆ munch jisung ⋆ oral sex (fem recieving) ⋆ fingering ⋆ light cum play ⋆ lots of praise ⋆ dialogue heavy wc: 3.2k synopsis: a week after jisung eats you out, he takes your virginity at your eager request. author's note: i feel like this is a safe enough space to say that i kinda didn’t wanna write this pt 2. i struggled a lot, but it’s finally finished!! didn’t wanna leave you guys hanging so i pushed through and delivered! if you like it feel free to reblog or comment bc those make my day <3

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

a pit of guilt grows in jisung’s gut. he promised you months ago that he’d take it slow. he broke that promise the moment it got too difficult to keep his dick in his pants. months ago, you would barely make out with him. you were so shy when it came to being intimate. but slowly, you got more used to it. slowly. 

he promised you that your first time together would be at the right moment. and he begged to get your pussy in his mouth before you were ready. he was such an awful boyfriend.

at least, that’s what he thought. 

jisung was oblivious to the lust that clouded your mind the following days. the way you’d wake up in the morning, only to feel slick between your thighs from the wet dreams the night before. the way you’d be going about your day, and suddenly the image of your boyfriend rubbing his dick on your pussy flashes in your mind. or the way you fantasize at night about how it’d feel to experience it all over again–his tongue, his fingers. how you'd fall asleep to the thought of his cock inside you.

he started a fire inside you without even knowing, and he needed to quell it before you lost your mind.

he’s barely even went further than kissing you since he ate you out. you know that jisung is scared to force you. but you also know that you’re ready. 

instead of asking him to fuck you, like any rational person would do, you decide the best way to what you want is to seduce him into it. it isn’t hard. really, it’s stupid easy. even a virgin can do it. 

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

when jisung gets into your apartment, all he wants to do is cuddle you while you stroke his hair. it’s one of the tamer things he’s been dreaming of all day. 

“baby?” he says, and shuts your apartment door. it’s silent. “baby?”

“bedroom.” is all you reply. when he opens the door, he pauses. he definitely had something to say with the way his mouth hangs open, but as soon as he sees you it’s thrown out the window. you see his adams apple bob as he swallows, and takes in the sight of you: naked except for a thin, cropped camisole and panties, your sweatshirt barely covering your arms before it falls to the floor.

“jisung.” you try your best to keep the amusement out of your voice. 

“shit! sorry, baby.” he snaps out of it quickly, adverting his gaze to the wall behind you. half of his thoughts for the past week come back to him all at once. seeing you barely covered makes the blood rush to his face, and his dick. it’s an instant reminder of how he had you just a week ago. he doesn’t look back to you, he might be strong enough mentally, but his dick sure isn’t. traitor.

“how was your day?” you're so casual about it, sauntering up to him and hugging him like you're not practically naked in front of him. like your tits don't press up against his chest when you hug him tightly.

“good. it was good. i missed you.” he's trying to stay calm. keep his dick from flying out of his pants like some deranged, horny adolescent who just discovered porn.

“yeah? still wanna cuddle like you wanted to earlier?” you ask, referencing a text he sent you a few hours ago.

screw his dick, his heart needed you more.

jisung sits on your bed, his back resting against the headboard. he watches as you climb into his lap, bare thighs against his sweats. you're so warm, and you smell so good… you're gonna kill him one day.

the moment your hands are in his hair, he's taking a deep, grounding breath. he loves when you play with his hair, it's the perfect stress relief for him. his girl, all pretty in his lap, running her fingers through his hair. dream come fucking true.

jisung can't help the low groan that escapes his lips as he adjusts his position. his arms wrap around you, shifting you in his lap so you're not sitting on his dick.

“fuck, baby.” he mutters. his eyes are shut, teeth biting at his lip to keep himself quiet.

it's cute, really. how worked up your boyfriend gets over you. you can't help but kiss the corner of his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as you try to push things further.

“kiss me, jisung?” the way you ask him is so sweet, so innocent sounding. like you don’t have a plan (you do) and all the pieces aren’t falling into place (they are). he can't resist, leaning up to kiss you short, sweet, and chaste. 

it's not enough. you take charge, kissing him and shifting in his lap to get a better angle. he gets the message, and lets you lead the kiss. in no time you're deepening it, your tongue in his mouth, and jisung's quick to pull back, your unusual boldness finally catching him off guard. 

“you good, baby?”

“mhm.”

“really?”

“you haven't kissed me in forever.” you're quick to defend yourself with a pout. forever, a week… same thing.

“c'mon, baby. you know i don't wanna rush you… i wanna take it slow with you, you asked me that and i'm doing my best…” he's looking at you like you’re too good for him, or he’s too bad for you. “you really don't know how hard that is for me, sometimes.” he mutters, eyes averting away from you. his hands come to rest on your hips, and it illustrates his point: he can't keep his hands off you.

“you're so gorgeous… prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. and you've got no idea how badly i just wanna push you down on the bed and fuck you sometimes.” jisung takes his hands off you, like they'll betray him. his hands ball up into fists at his sides. “you deserve someone who's able to wait for you, patiently.”

you don't like the implication of jisung's words. that you might ‘deserve’ someone better than him. your hands reach for his wrists, and guide his hands back to your body where they currently belong.

“i don't want anyone else, jisung, only you. it felt good when you ate me out. i liked it. i want more.” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “fuck me. please?” you ask, thumbing over his cheeks. your eyes are so warm, so full of love for your just slightly perverted boyfriend.

“i don't wanna make you wait anymore. i'm ready now. please? i want it.”

jisung can't resist you: his dick is throbbing in his sweats, his mind clouded because you look so damn good on his lap. you're begging him to take your virginity. you’re clearing up the doubt and guilt in his mind. who is he to deny you any further? 

“i love you.” he grins, shaking his head. his hands travel up from your hips to your waist, and he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “lie down, baby. let me take care of you.”

you’re quick to push yourself off his lap, and lie down beside his sitting form. there’s an air of excitement bouncing between you two as he kneels between your legs. he sits back to admire you beneath him. 

the way your hair lies behind you, the eager look in your eyes, the gloss of your lips from the messy kiss you shared. the way your top scrunches up beneath your tits, the strap barely falling off your shoulder. It’s the little nuances of your appearance that have him feeling like the wind’s been knocked from his lungs, and he wants to commit that beauty to memory, write about it like he’ll ever find the right words to describe you.

debauched. hot. perfect. ‘mine’. 

he can’t control himself, hands wandering your body to brush up your thighs. they reach your ribs and begin pushing up your top, freeing your tits for him to grope and tease. he takes in the way your breath catches, notes the things he does what makes you react. you’re so reactive and all he’s done is feel you up.

“shh… baby, i know…” he whispers as he takes your nipple between his thumb and index finger to give it a rough pinch. “want it so bad, right? want me to just put it in?” 

you nod. he’s worked you up quickly. “not yet. my girl deserves a special first time. i can’t just put it in. what kind of boyfriend would i be?”

“but, ji–” jisung’s hands trailing down your ribcage to your hips. his thumbs soothe over the skin, but his grip is firm, and keeps you in your place. 

“don’t be a brat.” the sudden sternness in his voice has you shutting up immediately. you don’t think he’s ever spoken to you with such strictness… it turns you on. with that, he stands, and pulls you to the edge of the bed. 

“let me take care of you.” his voice is softer as he speaks and drops to his knees on the floor. he ends all your thoughts of impatience the moment he begins kissing up your inner thighs. “gotta prep my girl first, okay?”

there’s a gentleness in his touch, as he spreads your thighs a little wider, taking in the sight of you. as if he didn’t make you cum on his tongue with no regards for your virgin status just a week ago. “relax f’me.”

he spreads your pussy open with two fingers, and in seconds there’s a slow, wet trail of his spit dripping down your clit. jisung starts with slow, gentle licks that have you melting into his touch. he works up a fire inside you that spreads with every deep shallow breath, every barely audible whine from your lips. when your wetness and his saliva are all glistening across his chin, he pulls away. “how’s it feel, pretty girl?”

“good.” you breathe out, and suck in a deep breath. “want more.” you roll your hips, desperate to get his mouth back on you. 

"yeah? more what?” jisung rubs your thighs, giving you a break whether you like it or not. it’s a form of self control for himself as well, he can’t get lost in eating you out if he stops. “what do you want more of, baby? tell me.”

honestly, you don’t know. you just want more of the feeling he’s giving you, the fire that builds slowly and threatens to take your breath away. luckily, jisung is more than happy to give you options. “want more of my mouth? or do you want to try my fingers?”

“just wanna feel good.” you decide, and jisung smiles. you’re cute, and you trust him with to make you feel good, even if you don’t know what you want. he’s eager now, your plea spurring him on. jisung teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly inserts it as he begins to suck on your clit. it’s not enough, not for jisung. as soon as he feels you relaxing around one finger, he’s quick to insert anther. it’s not a hard stretch. not when your pussy’s being so greedy, sucking in his fingers as he sucks on your clit. 

all the while you’re moaning his name so sweetly, rutting your hips up into his mouth like he’s just a pillow for you to hump. “fuck, baby…” he’s moaning into your pussy, reaching his arms beneath your thighs to pull you closer.

“ji…” the way you moan his name is obscene. he wants to hear it again.

“cum on my tongue.” it’s somewhere between a command and a plea. however he asks, he needs to see it again, feel it again–fuck, he needs to taste it again. “cum on my tongue and you can have my dick, baby. ‘s all yours.” 

it’s not lost on him that you’re close when your hands reach for his hair, tugging in a way that makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. he knows before you do, and he’s doing all he can to make you tip over the edge. 

“please–” 

the fire he coaxes within you builds and builds. until you’re warm to the touch and can’t speak anything but his name in broken moans. he holds you down when you cum, your hips fighting against his strength as his fingers fuck you through it.

“good girl… that’s my good girl…” he praises. his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every frame of you as you come undone on his fingers. once your breathing calms, and you lie still on the bed, his eyes trail down to your pussy. his fingers gather the wetness of your cunt and pull out in tandem with your whine of “too much!”

“look at you, baby…” he coos as he stands. “that’s my good girl, cumming on my tongue so pretty for me.” his clean hand trails up your body, and rests against your throat. his hand is warm, almost weightless as it rests above your throat. it’s oddly grounding for you.

“made such a mess, though…” an idea pops into his head.  “you ever taste yourself, baby?” you shake your head no. jisung brings two fingers up to your lips. “go ahead.” he brushes the slick pads of his fingers against your bottom lip.

“clean up the mess you made.”

jisung groans as you take his fingers into your mouth. He can’t recall seeing a sweeter sight in his life. the way you look up at him, eyes wide and glossy as his fingers hit the back of your throat. you don’t stop though. you keep sucking, even beginning to bob your head a little and it goes straight to his dick.

he’s enjoying this too much.

jisung slides his fingers out of your mouth, and runs the same hand through his hair. “feel good?” he takes note of the look on your face, so fucked out already. you nod. it’s not a good enough response for him. “talk to me.” he’s gentle as he speaks, and brushes your hair out of your face. 

“feels good, ji.” you sigh, and shut your eyes. 

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“want more? or are you done for the night?” jisung’s thumb caresses your cheek, the other hand sits softly at your waist.

“more, please?” 

“of course, baby. you did so good for me. i promised you i’d give you my cock, didn’t i? gotta give my pretty girl what she wants.” it makes him impatient, to know that he has you prepped and eager for him. but he has to start slowly. 

he pushes his sweats down beneath his thighs, too impatient to fully take them off. he fists his heavy cock in his hands as the tip prods at your entrance. 

“gonna put it in now, okay?” he doesn't give you much time to think about it and before you can reply, he's pushing in. 

“jisung…” your eyes shut as you moan his name, and jisung watches the way your pussy welcomes him. you watch jisung: the hungry look in his eyes, the messiness of his hair, the way he breathes deep and slow as he takes you. half his cock is nestled inside you when he finally breaks the silence.

“you're doing so good, baby…” he mutters, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “taking me so well…” 

it's then that he starts to thrust. calculated and slow strokes that have you gasping as clenching around him. jisung is captivated. his eyes are glued onto the way you suck him in. he's barely able to keep himself from fucking into you deeper. 

your eyes wander down from taking in jisung's expressions, to the way his hips fuck into you with all the restraint he has. it makes you want more, want to feel him completely.

“more,” it's not an ask or a plea. it's a demand. you keen into his touch, and your eyes lock. “i want it all.” 

jisung laughs. he can't help it, you're cute. “more, baby? you want all my cock?” he teases and slowly begins to pull out.

“yes!” you whine, “jisung, please?”

it's cute. you're so desperate for him. it's hypocritical almost. he's using all his self control trying not to fuck you like he's a fucking rabbit in heat.

without any warning, he's grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. he slides into you, slowly. he groans as he bottoms out. you reach out to grip the sheets, but he's quick to grasp your hand instead.

“good job, baby. fuck, pussy's made for me–hold my hand, pretty girl…”

jisung pulls back and he swears he sees stars. “fuck…” he doesn't know how much longer he can control himself. his thrusts are deep and slow, falling into the familiar routine he fucked you with earlier. 

it's not enough for you. not enough pleasure to satiate the fire hes stoking inside of you. “more.” you demand. “more, ji.” something snaps in him. he’s quick to fulfill your request, fucking into you faster. 

“so dirty, baby. never been fucked before and already can’t get enough.” you can’t deny his words, or respond. all you do is moan his name again and arch into his touch.

“close?” you mutter, almost unsure of when your own orgasm is coming. with that, jisung spreads your pussy open with his fingers, and spits right on your clit. the high pitched whine that leaves your lips makes him smirk. 

“i know, baby.” his fingers work fast circles against your clit, and he feels the way you tense and squirm against his touch. “too much!” and it’s not. jisung knows it’s not. it’s just enough.

 “cum for me, baby.” and you do: with little whines and moans of his name, with little rolls of your hips to chase the pleasure he’s giving you. you’re clenching around him like a vice, each flutter of your pussy brings him closer to cumming, and he’s already trying his best to hold off.

he can’t take it anymore. jisung pulls out quickly and fists himself as he cums on your tummy. “that’s my girl… did so well.” he praises, his free hand soothing over your hip. 

jisung watches as you come down from your high. you're so pretty. his pretty girl. all ruined. your hair's a mess. the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead. his cum all over your tummy.

“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks with a soft smile on his face. 

“good,” you nod, a barely there smile on your face as you reach for his hand. “more than good.” 

you tug his hand, trying to pull him down to cuddle you. it's a signal that jisung responds to immediately. he's pulling you to the side to spoon you. 

one hand rests against your tummy, and he rests your head against his other arm. he kisses your nape, then your shoulder, then rests his head against you. it’s peaceful. 

“i love you, jisung.”

“i love you, baby.”

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

[dreamlifebunny]

how to script your dream life and use it with any method!

hello friends! today i want to share with you how i personally script my dream life, and how this script is both my void list, states list, and precursor to almost every manifestation method i've ever used. i love scripting because it is not only a method in and of itself but it is also a simple list of everything you desire that you can now manifest using any method you love!

check back later for a link to my scripting templates. in the meantime, here are the steps to creating your perfect script from scratch with examples! all you need is a place to write it down.

step one:

time to brain dump! at the top of your page, write out every desire that comes to your head in list format. don't overthink it and don't worry if they sound silly or unrealistic; remember, absolutely anything is possible! you can write out a few desires to start or go hardcore and write out hundreds, whatever you feel inspired by. you can always come back to this step later. here is my example:

step two:

now its time to get organized! look at the desires you've written and figure out what subcategories they fall under. for example, "my eyes are light blue and gorgeous" could fall under the category of "appearance," and "i have $100,000 in my bank account" could fall under the category of "wealth and items." feel free to use any category name that makes sense to you.

step three:

now that you have a couple of categories written out and understand the structure of the script, your mind might start to have even more ideas. "ooh, now that i see revision is a category, there are a couple more things i'd like to revise..." or "why stop at one SP when i could have everyone chasing after me?" for step three, we go a little deeper into these categories and add more details of what our dream life will look like. you can also add new categories that pop into your head - in the example below, i've added "the world and society" and "skills and abilities."

note: the reason why i broke this up into multiple steps instead of just writing "write out all your desires at once" is because our brains can be mean to us and make us procrastinate if something isn't done "perfectly," so that's why adding an extra step is important to bypass the perfectionism.

optional steps:

because scripting is such a creative and expansive process, we might think of ideas we'd like to manifest in the future but not right now/not instantly. i like to organize my script further by adding another category: "future manifestations." these are ideas that i would love to manifest at some point later on but not necessarily while my dream life is manifesting right now.

another idea is separating categories even further into "instant manifestations" (manifestations that happen right now without things needing to unfold) or "perfect timing manifestations" (manifestations that slowly unfold naturally and linearly), if you want to get specific about how they show up in your life! however, these steps are completely optional and just fun details for specificity, and i can make a more detailed post on this later.

how you can use your script with any method:

scripting has been used as a successful manifesting and shifting method on its own forever because it specifically addresses one of the most important steps in the manifesting process - deciding what you want! by writing out what you want in your dream life, you can now decide that your script will manifest on its own or you can use any method under the sun to fulfill yourself within:

the void state: if you enter the void state to manifest, you could affirm "i have everything in my dream life script"

affirming: you can affirm "everything in my dream life script has come true"

visualization: you could create an imaginative scene where all of your desires from your script are fulfilled, or you can imagine looking at your script and smiling because everything came true

subliminals: you can create a very simple subliminal where all of your desires are included, or even a sub where the only affirmation is "i have everything in my dream life script"

the possibilities with scripting are absolutely endless. i hope that this guide has given you the inspiration and direction to write your own wonderful and unique script. now, go and get your dream life!

have fun! bunny 💕

[lightsoutletsgo]

good night's sleep — cs.55 (18+)

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

word count: 5.1k of pure FILTH

warnings: daddy kink, oral and fingering (f receiving), sub space, countdown to orgasm, written with thicc reader in mind but can be read by anyone, brief allusions to choking, sub!reader, brief mention of possible size kink (but blink and you’ll miss it), use of pet names; amor, baby, princesa, corazón 

You grunted and groaned, wriggling yourself further into the sheets as you tried to get comfortable. You finally found a comfortable position and closed your eyes before huffing in frustration as you grew too hot under the covers, flinging them off. What on earth was wrong with you? You turned to look at the man sleeping next to you. Led on his stomach with one hand under the pillow his head was positioned on, the other laying next to him, occasionally twitching as he dreamed. 

You subconsciously pressed your thighs together as your eyes gazed down the vast expanse of his shirtless back and shoulders, coming back up and eventually stopping on his thick arms, biceps bulging even though he wasn’t flexing them. Your mouth watered and you immediately realised what was wrong. 

You were needy. 

Quickly slipping your panties off underneath Carlos’ shirt you slowly crawled over to him, softly poking his side 

“Carlos…” He was quick to wake up and roll over to face you, 

“Mi amor, is everything okay?!” As he slowly realised you were calling him he quickly shot up, hands cupping your face as he sat up against the headboard 

“Amor talk to me…” 

“I-I…” You trailed off, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Come on baby, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong, okay?” Carlos’ eyes searched your face for any indicator, one hand dropping to rub soothing circles onto your hip- his hand paused as he slowly realised why you’d woken him up.

“D-do you have panties on right now ?” 

You felt your cheeks heat up heavily as you slowly shook your head shyly… 

“No… need-needed you…” a smirk overtook Carlos’ face as he guided you to crawl onto his lap, plopping yourself down directly onto his crotch where you could already feel him hardening. You let out a soft moan as your hips automatically began to grind. 

“Nuh-uh uh amor,” The hand on your hip gripped tightly as the hand cupping your face slid down to hold your throat gently. “Not yet.” whining needily, you pouted as he laughed at your cute reaction, leaning in to press his lips to yours. 

You felt his lips stretch into a smile through the kiss. 

“Such a sweet girl” he murmured into the kiss “Always so good for me”

You broke away to nod frantically, 

“Always good for you, wanna be your good girl!” Carlos hushed you gently, 

“Easy corazón, it’s okay, let me take care of you hmm?” You nodded, feeling your head grow fuzzy and your chest grow warm as Carlos led you down in the space next to him before climbing on top of you. You sighed happily, feeling small underneath him and the dominant aura he emitted. 

“What do you want, baby?” You frowned, biting your bottom lip, he knew what you wanted, why was he making you ask? 

“Come on princesa,” Carlos’ thumb pulled your lip from between your teeth, gently soothing over the bite mark you’d left behind, “I need to hear you say it so I know for sure it’s what you want, okay?” You nodded, 

“I-I want you to make me cum… p-please… daddy?”

“Good girl,” Carlos cooed at you, pressing kisses to each of your hot cheeks and one to the tip of your nose before he looked straight into your eyes, 

“You want my fingers or my tongue amor? or maybe…” He smirked at you, pausing as his tongue licked his lower lip slowly, “you want both?” you squealed and brought your hands up to cover your face at his lewd words as he gave a low chuckle, 

“I‘ll take that as a yes, princesa…” He pressed one final kiss to your forehead before moving down your body. Gently pressing kisses down the column of your neck, 

“You smell so sweet, mi amor…” He lifted the hem of his shirt to sit above your breasts, inhaling sharply as his eyes caught your perky nipples, he left soft kisses on the swell of each breast before moving to leave gentle licks and nips to your soft tummy and thick hips. He eventually reached between your thighs and you moaned at the sight of him between your legs staring up at you.

“Well well well, what do we have here? You really are needy aren’t you hmm?” Carlos hissed as his fingers collected the slick that was already at the entrance of your tight hole and you heard him gasp when he realised how it coated your inner thighs and dripped down to your ass, pooling on the sheets beneath you, 

“Oh poor baby… you must have been feeling so needy before daddy woke up huh?” You nodded, a small whine slipping from your throat, he hadn’t even done anything yet and you were already losing your mind. 

“Okay then princesa, I’ll take care of you,” A moan tumbled out of your mouth as you watched him hook your legs over his broad shoulders, his arms flexing as he tightly gripped the tops of your plush thighs to keep them open. You broke eye contact when he inhaled, closing your eyes tightly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, partly embarrassed at the lewd display and partly too turned on to think straight. He cursed in Spanish, the low and rough sound sending shivers down your spine. He dropped his head down to gently lap at your clit and you wailed out immediately, hands flying, tightly gripping his hair. 

Carlos growled into your cunt at the sensation, making that tingling feeling in your lower belly immediately flare up.  

“Daddy!” 

“That’s it amor… daddy wants to hear every pretty noise you can make…” His lapping and sucking continued before he nuzzled his way down even further, tongue darting out to taste your sweet arousal straight from the source, 

“You’re delectable princesa, you know that?” Moans were constantly pouring out of your mouth as he drank up every last drop that your sweet pussy offered him. 

“Mmm, wanna stretch you out…,” You felt one hand slip from around your thigh as his middle finger began teasing your tight hole and he laughed as your hips bucked up, chasing his hand, 

“Easy there princesa.” You whimpered as his finger slid into your heat. 

“M-more Carlos p-please…”

“You want more? But we’ve only just started… You’re such a needy little thing, I love it.” He pressed a light kiss to your clit as his finger curled upwards, finding that spot that made your hips jerk and your thighs shake. You moaned as your eyes rolled back, closing tightly as your body succumbed to the sensations. You were pulled out of that space by a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh, eyes shooting open to look at Carlos. 

“Eyes on me amor or I will stop, understand?” You nodded quickly, “Words baby…” 

“Y-yes ngh, daddy!”

“Good girl… I just want to look into my pretty baby’s gorgeous eyes when she cums.” He smirked into your pussy as he leant down to begin gently sucking your clit once more, his finger slowly curling into your heat. You whined as you felt your cunt throb from his ministrations. 

“D-daddy… feels so good!” You writhed underneath him, hips beginning to chase the feeling. 

Everything felt hot. It was all too hot and too much, 

“P-please please please…” you chanted as he began to drag sloppy licks and kisses over your clit and his fingers sped up slightly, his free hand tightly squeezing your thigh, the flesh spilling out between his fingers. You grabbed at his wrist on your thigh, drooling over the muscle and veins you felt as his body flexed in an attempt to keep your body in one place. You tugged at his hair, Carlos refusing to let up. 

“Carlos, I’m so close!” You whimpered out, “Wanna cum please…” Everything felt fuzzy and you could hear a roaring noise filling your ears. Your eyes filled with tears as your body convulsed and thrashed from the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Sh-sh-shhh it’s okay princesa, I’m gonna count down for you to help you focus okay?” You were beyond words now, unable to form any syllables other than his name and incoherent moans and gasps. 

“Alright then mi amor 5… Such a sweet girl.” You whimpered at Carlos’ voice, 

“4… Look at you taking everything I give you so well…”, His words, other than the numbers, were murmured into your pussy between more soft sloppy kisses to your clit, his spit dripping down and soaking your pussy lips even more,

“3… Can’t wait to see you cum angel, always so beautiful when you cum for me…” His fingers sped up as each movement pushed them up against your g-spot,

“2… Fuck yes princesa, squeeze my fingers more that’s it, good girl…” You felt yourself on the edge, ready to tip over, the only thing you needed was-

“1… Cum for me princesa.” A strangled squeal was ripped from your throat as you obeyed his command and finally felt your orgasm hit you, the hot white heat spreading from your core, right to the tips of your fingers and toes. 

“Fuck yes… good girl… you’re squeezing my fingers so tight baby, did you like that huh?” Carlos slowed his fingers down before gently sliding them out of you as he crawled back up your body, 

“Clean my fingers up then baby.” He held his fingers in front of your mouth, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you happily began to suck them clean with a contented sigh 

“Good girl, mi amor, so good for me.” He slid into bed next to you, pulling you into his arms tightly, your back to his chest, relishing in the way your soft body curled up into his muscular one, your fingernails gently running up and down the arm that held your waist tightly. He continued to press soft kisses to your head, 

“Sleep now princesa, I bet you’re feeling a little tired huh?” His deep voice rumbling through your back sent pleasant vibrations up your spine and you giggled, pushing yourself back into him further until your ass met his crotch. You gasped, 

“Oh! Umm… What ‘bout you…” You trailed off shyly, Carlos hushed you gently, chuckling at your cuteness,

“I’m okay amor, you can help me tomorrow okay?” You nodded before snuggling yourself back down into his warmth, 

“Such a pretty girl aren’t you?”, “Love you so much mi corazón”, “You always make me feel so good”, “So proud of you mi amore.” Each praise was followed up with more gentle kisses as you drifted off to sleep. 

“Sleep well princesa.”

[cntloup]

house-husband!Nanami x fem!reader

fluffy fluff, teeny tiny allusion to sex

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Kento hates work. "work is shit!" he said. he ran away from his life as a sorcerer to become a salaryman so he could make enough money to retire and live in peace, far away from people.

he only quit working as a salaryman and chose to be a sorcerer again because he deemed it less idiotic, and of course less depressing after experiencing the misery of the mundane day-to-day life. and he'd have less amount of regret about wasting his time and his work not having any significant impact on anyone.

but life as a sorcerer is far from easy. experiencing failure after failure, losing his friends and students, failing to save the common people, it had taken a heavy toll on him and nearly made him an alcoholic which caused a surge of self-hatred and disgust inside him.

he felt undeserving of your love so he tried to distance himself from you and it absolutely broke your heart to see him like that until you swooped in and took his hand to pull him out of the swamp created by the anguish and torment of the life as a sorcerer. so after witnessing how worn out and stressed he had become due to his work, you sat him down to discuss the situation.

he was hesitant at first when you suggested it, not wanting to burden you any further, but you mentioned how much you love your job and you're in for a promotion soon due to being one of the top employees.

you truly wanted to take the heavy burden off his shoulders and offer some solace instead which you did anyway only by existing, but this newly bloomed idea was a step further towards the life he always dreamed of. so eventually after some more coaxing and persuasion, he came around to the idea.

so he went to Yaga and blurted out, "I quit." and exited the room with no further explanation much to the principal's dismay and shouts of disagreement, but he simply didn't care as he left Jujutsu High for good this time with a faint smile on his face.

it really is a dream come true. he's finally free. and of course he picks up baking considering his obsession with bread and if you share this obsession with him or if you have a sweet tooth, you're in for a treat. he tries a new recipe every day. he has a keen eye for different ingredients and he's a natural at it with how meticulous he is.

he always wakes up before you, taking a moment to admire your beauty illuminated by the morning sunlight. your eyes slowly flutter open, "good morning, sweetheart." he greets which is returned by a sweet kiss on his lips.

and of course sometimes this ends up with your bodies tangled together beneath the sheets as you both pant heavily while giggling, not caring if you'll be late for work.

then eventually after some whining and some more kissing, you detangle your bodies and finally leave the bed.

he makes you breakfast and helps you gather your stuff and get ready for work.

he packs your lunch and always leaves a lovely cute note on it.

he goes over the shopping list you had written the day before while you're gone and makes sure you have everything you need, replaces your used up beauty products if you use any.

also makes sure that every appliance in the house is in perfect shape and if anything needs fixing, he's on it before you even notice it. after all, he wouldn't want his lovely, hardworking wife be bothered by such things.

you never come home empty-handed, always bringing back something for him, flowers or a tie, or simply something that reminded you of him. you always make sure to mention how grateful you are to have him in your life and how much you appreciate him.

"these for me?" he asks with a soft smile which is rare and only you get to witness, "for you, my love." you reply placing another kiss on his lips and handing him the flowers.

once you're at the door exhausted out of your mind, he's there to greet you with a sweet kiss, take off your coat and pick you up, carrying you to the bathroom and gently placing your weary body inside the tub which he has prepared for you.

he sits by the tub and feeds you the delicious meal he has made if you're too tired to do it yourself, and then comes the sweet treat he's made that day which always makes you moan at the first bite, "you're so good at this! fuck!" you say, making him chuckle.

he joins you in the tub after your whiny, yet cute voice calls out to him and you rest between his legs, your back pressed against his firm chest as he holds you in his strong arms and places gentle, languid kisses on your neck and shoulders.

the water temperature is perfect, not too hot, not too cold. and the aroma of your favorite oils and bathsalts takes over your senses as you take a deep breath out of finally being able to relax.

his big, slightly rough hands travel across your midsection, dancing on your skin, his loving touch eliciting soft moans out of your parted lips as your body melts further into his embrace.

he's truly meant to be a househusband😩😭

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 24 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

Content Warnings: Implications of being stabbed and decapitated.

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Opening your eyes slowly, you found yourself back in that place.

The world that existed somewhere between reality and a dream, where the bejeweled night an ever-watchful presence over rows upon rows of spider lilies stretching out into the horizons. Where the stems of gently swaying crimson blooms surfaced from the shallow expanse of water, liquid ground a crystalline mirror to the galaxies above. The unknown breeze felt sacred, as though the universe itself dared not intrude.

"Excuse me," a voice called out softly, breaking the tranquility.

You turned, the flowing silken fabric of your dress trailing behind you like a whisper. Standing a few paces away, your gaze fell upon a man—a tall, rugged figure with a tattered ensemble. His appearance was worn, speaking of battles fought in places far harsher than this one. But it wasn’t the state of his attire that caught your attention—it was his sharp, more experienced, gray eyes and shaggy black hair.

He was achingly familiar, tugging at the edges of your memory.

A picture on page, one that reminded you so much of—

The man moved, dropping to one knee with his head bowed in solemn respect.

"I'm—"

"Sung Il-Hwan." his name fell from your lips as though it had always been there, just waiting on the tip of your tongue. Thus your voice carried certainty, soft yet steady. "There's no need to bow to me, Mr. Sung. Please, stand."

For a moment, he remained still. Then, the corner of his lips lifted in a quiet chuckle. “As expected, you already know my identity.”

He rose to his full height, his presence imposing yet not unkind. There was something about him—something that felt both formidable and comforting. It felt like he regarded you with a newfound warmth compared to the previous formality.

“Then, I believe this little one is yours."

Il-Hwan extended his hand, revealing a soft light cupped within his palm. As the glow dimmed, you saw it—a delicate, silvery-blue butterfly, its fragile body shimmering faintly. But your breath caught at the sight of its missing wing, the severed fragment lying beside it like a fallen petal.

"Aria!"

The name tumbled out of you, laced with panic. Without hesitation, you gathered the front of your dress and hurried toward him, mindful not to trip on the pooling fabric. The little beads clinking subtle chimes as chaining ripples formed beneath bare steps light, not a single splash to be seen.

Il-Hwan watched as you approached, his eyes softening, the quiet curiosity barely hidden now. His hand remained steady, allowing the weakened summon to crawl from his fingers to your cupped hands. Handling the broken wing with utmost care, he placed it beside the tiny creature.

Aria trembled faintly in your hold, her tiny movements making your brows furrow further.

“Mama…I’ve…returned…”

The small whimper at the end, carried through your bond, broke your heart.

Hush now, child. You’re in no shape to let out a tune.

To her, the sound was tender yet firm, urging her to rest. Your eyes traced the jagged edge of her missing wing—a clean, circular cut, as though a shard of crystal had severed it at high speed. A faint trail of glimmering dust clung to the wound, the remnants of her former splendor scattering like lost stars.

"Poor thing found me at an unfortunate time," Il-Hwan began, his tone apologetic. "She got caught in my skirmish with the Monarch of Frost. I managed to spot her just in time and shield her before it was too late."

He sighed, a tinge of regret, as if he wished this meeting had taken place under better circumstances. “I suppose you’ve been trying to reach me for quite some time?”

"Yes." you whispered, the word barely audible as you cradled Aria closer. Gently, you stroked her remaining wing with your thumb, channeling a soothing pulse of your healing into her form. The faint golden glow of your power intertwined with her oceanic glitter, igniting the smallest flicker of life back into her.

Still, Aria shivered, as if just now registering how freezing she was in contrast to your touch.

Did she absorb too much of the Frost Monarch’s magic as a defense mechanism? Then the opposing energy that managed to tied her over until now was—

"Thank you for saving her." you said at last, lifting your gaze to Il-Hwan with sincerest gratitude.

Il-Hwan waved it off with a small smile. "No need to thank me, Young Lady. It’s all in a day’s work."

His voice was lighthearted, but something flickered in his gray eyes. A shift so subtle, so fleeting, that it almost went unnoticed.

Sadness. Longing. A sorrow that lingered like the ghost of a memory.

For a single, unguarded moment, his smile faltered.

The words had left his lips so effortlessly, yet you could sense it—the quiet ache of a man who had once said them often, long before his life had unraveled.

A life in another time.

You wondered what he was thinking of in that moment. The past, his own struggles, the lives left behind, the moments missed, what he had to do now, what he could do now, with little chance to reconcile—his losses.

You couldn’t help but saw a reflection of him again.

Like father, like son—couldn’t have rung truer.

Before you could speak, Il-Hwan continued. “As a matter of fact, you saved me the effort.”

Before your eyes, his irises turned bright yellow, and your breath hitched.

"Young Lady, I have a message for you."

My body…why am I reacting like this?  

His words carried an off-placed weight, as though he were no longer just a man but a conduit for something far greater.

{Flee.}

The glitching voice—distant yet achingly familiar—sent a shiver down your spine. A pang of dread lodged itself deep within. A mounting of it with no identifiable source. At least, none that made sense.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, and your throat started to close up, cutting off air supply. You took a step back—

Your hands twitched on instinct, a chain of motions you weren’t fully aware of, muscles bracing to envelop Aria in a protective cocoon. Subtle, hidden, as if one wrong move and you would—

“Ma…ma…?”

Aria’s weak, worried call echoed, but it was distant, muffled, as though she were calling to you from behind a thick veil. Your breath came short. You felt suffocated, like the air itself grew thick, pressing down on you with an unseen force.

{What are you doing?}

Even in this state, you managed a quick glance over her before sending her away—back home, back to safety. You had to. You had to.

"They would like to have an audience with you."

The words sent a ripple through your consciousness, like a drop of ink bleeding into water. You went rigid. It felt as though you had lost control of your body altogether. No, not lost—surrendered.

Was it because you had already predicted this? You had always known, that this moment would come?

{Move!}

Cold sweat trailed down the side of your—like a delayed reaction, your hand slowly came up to your cheek, where you swore you felt the droplet of moisture. Yet, when you touched the spot, it was dry, there was nothing there.

The glint of silver, the sharp tip as it was raised high felt like déjà vu.

"Due to circumstances," Il-Hwan added, his tone softening just slightly, "They would be honored if you took the first initiative."

You’re scared.

The thought was not your own, yet it was. Overlapping. Intertwining. A relentless loop that refused to cease.

Stab!

A sharp, blinding pain bloomed in your chest. You gasped, hand pressing against your sternum, fingers trembling as though expecting to meet the hilt of a blade that torn through your very core.

Scared for your children’s life.

“…Young Lady?”

Scared for you.

{RUN—

A scream tore itself from your throat—

Chop!

—And was swallowed whole by the nothingness.

Your legs buckled. You barely registered the sensation of falling, barely noticed when Sung Il-Hwan stopped mid-sentence and rushed to your side.

Both of your hands flew to your neck, fingers pressing frantically against your skin, feeling around, over and over, searching for something—Still there. They were still there. But your irises darted wildly, scanning the surroundings, the ground, as if making sure—making absolutely sure—that your head wasn’t rolling around somewhere else.

“A-ah… ugh…”

Your breath came in heaving gasps, dizzying as nausea churned, twisted your stomach violently. Your body convulsed, but no bile came up. Only saliva, thick and warm, slipping past your lips, trickling down your chin, and dripping into the water below. Mixing in the blooms’ reflections, tiny ripples expanding outward. Yet, even in your delirium, you had to be sure, you still needed to make sure—your shaking gaze dropped to your trembling fingers, the ones that brushed against the clear dampness, checking, checking—that it wasn’t red. That the coppery taste lingering on your tongue wasn’t real.

You dimly realized the hand rested against your back, firm yet careful, grounding you as reality sluggishly crept back into place.

Drip. Drop.

You remained in that hunched position, shoulders trembling, even as the phantom agony receded, leaving behind only an echo of pain and confusion. For how long, you couldn’t say. It was hard to pinpoint time in this strange space, but it felt like an eternity before you could even muster the effort to breathe properly again. Slowly, excruciatingly so, the searing pain pressing against your chest dulled with each inhale, eased just enough for you to think. The logic creeping back in, fighting through the haze of resurfacing horrors.

When you finally dared to look up, Sung Il-Hwan’s met your gaze, his irises no longer glowed that eerie yellow. Just the usual grey, filled with concern as he kneeled on your side.

The first coherent thought that surfaced was how you had just displayed an utterly disturbing breakdown in front of a very anticipated guest.

“My apologies. I don’t now what came over me.” A white handkerchief materialized between your fingers, and with as much composure as you could muster, you dabbed at your mouth, erasing the remnants of your episode, in a feeble attempt to salvage what little dignity you had left.

“About what you said before—"

“Are you okay, Young Lady?”

You stilled.

Am I?

The look in his eyes tugged something loose in your chest, made you feel small. Like a guilty child caught in a lie.

“I know we’re practically strangers,” he started, his voice gentle, measured.

Did he read my mind somehow?

“But this old man still has some great advices.” He jabbed a thumb toward himself, flashing an easy-going grin. Then, realizing he might’ve overstepped, might have come on too strong, his smile wavered slightly as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Only if you want to talk about it, of course.”

A curious feeling unfurled in your chest.

This warmth. This concern. The kind that didn’t demand, didn’t expect, didn’t bargain.

It was not the wary deference of the Hunters. Nor the admiration of civilians. Not even the camaraderie of raid mates who called you ‘friend.’

Not conditional on experiences, didn’t need to be earned. Foundational, that exists simply because you are.

Steadier. Quieter. Certain.

Is this… how my children feel when I’m with them?

Was this what parental love felt like?

Don’t you remember?

The rhetorical question in your subconscious was met with startling certainty:

I don’t.

Because there was nothing to remember. Faces, voices, attachments—nothing before all of this. Only stories, books, pictures, songs, games—remnants of entertainment consumed in a life you no longer had access to.

And you hadn’t fully came to terms with that fact.

You buried those thoughts to be revisited another time. Were you running away? Maybe. But right now—

“Thank you. I…” You pulled your knees to your chest, tilting your head back to gaze up at the endless expanse above, trying to make sense of it all. “I’m not sure how to put it into words yet. There are still so much missing. I feel like I need to figure them out first, to piece together… well, everything.”

Il-Hwan studied you for a long moment, as if searching for something—once again, in a manner that reminded you so much of Jinwoo—before sitting down cross-legged, making himself comfortable beside you.

Take your time.

Together, the two of you sat beneath the vast, starry sky.

-----

It was silent between you for a while until he was the first to break it.

“It’s been about a decade, but somehow, your stubbornness reminded me of my son.”

You stayed silent and continued to listen.

“He’s supposed to be in his twenties now. I was around his age when I met the love of my life, his and my daughter’s mother. Now, I often wondered if he already has his own special someone.”

He will.

You closed your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you thought of your ever-reliable friend, letting the warmth of your love for her overshadow the quiet ache blooming in your chest.

…Bel would’ve loved that one. The thought made you huff a silent laugh. If that child of yours was here, she’d catch the unintended pun immediately.

How easier it is. To shift my focus elsewhere, from something just not meant to be.

“My love, my son, and my little daughter… I wonder how they are doing right now.” The longing in his voice was palpable. “I thought I could check on them while completing my mission, but I haven’t had the chance.”

{DO NOT, in anyway, teleport character <Sung Il-Hwan> to meet his family OR give him something to contact them, ‘Trial Player’.}

…Damn it.

You bit your tongue while Il-Hwan could only sigh.

“Well, I guess I can only hope to get one soon.”

You won’t. Your fist clenched on fabric. Not if everything goes according to the original.

When he turned to face you again, you met him head-on.

 “Do you have a question, Young Lady?”

Your lips pressed into a straight line, then you nodded. “How do I contact them?”

"Physical contact with their vessels, any one of them, is the only key needed." Il-Hwan scratched his head, looking slightly confused. “I’m not exactly privy to the details, but I was told you came across two of us before.”

Two?

You remembered your chance encounter with Thomas Andre, and you did note that he reacted strangely. A normal eye would only see how he froze like a statue, but a trained one would notice the slight tremble in his muscles, the visible veins as if he was struggling against something internally—Yikes. You suddenly felt bad if you were indeed the cause.

That was one. But two?

You didn’t recall coming across another Ruler’s vessel, except Jinwoo, but you were pretty sure Ashborn didn’t keep in contact with his former brothers-in-arms. Otherwise, they would know of his plan, and Sung Il-Hwan would already be aware of Jinwoo’s position—which he clearly wasn’t, judging by his reaction. So, the only other possible option you could think of was—

The Chairman.

Il-Hwan’s eyes turned bright yellow again, and that same uncomfortable feeling from before returned. It took a lot of effort, but you managed to suppress most of the unease this time.

Gone was his more relaxed expression, replaced by a reverent seriousness. The shift was sudden, unsettling—more so than before. A disturbing realization settled. This wasn’t just Il-Hwan speaking on behalf of an authority not his own.

This was the authority speaking.

"We will patiently await your call."

The silence stretched as Il-Hwan’s eyes returned to normal, his form less tense.

“Well,” he said, still somewhat taken aback by the revelation. “It looks like they really want to meet you. They don’t usually choose to possess a vessel like this.”

You knew that.

Of course, you knew that fact. It was made quite clear why the Rulers' vessels didn’t stand a chance against the Monarchs in their vessels—because they chose to borrow rather than take, unlike the Monarchs. That knowledge, however, didn’t make your situation any less stressful. If anything, it only made it worse.

What could the Rulers want with me?

That vision you saw back at the Demon Castle—the only memory you could associate with the scene you had experienced was the panels depicting the death of the Absolute Being, speared upon his throne.

The glint of silver, the sharp tip as it was raised high felt like déjà vu—

Your fingers twitched involuntarily.

I must think this through.

{ . . . }

…? System?

What was this... resentment, you felt?

Sung Il-Hwan seemed to notice your state, even without knowing the full context.

"I reckon this meeting doesn't count?"

His attempt to lighten the mood was poor, but you appreciated it nonetheless. The uneasiness lingered, but it did subside quicker thanks to him.

"No." You shook your head, mirroring his smile.

“From my understanding, this place is like a dreamscape. Only our thoughts are connected while our bodies are… 'asleep.' Well, at least they’re suspended… somewhere.” You winced slightly at your own explanation. “Sorry for the bad description, I’m still trying to figure it out—”

Instead of being offended or getting more embarrassed, Il-Hwan’s sudden laughing caught you off guard with how free it sounded. His shoulders shook, as if the weights he carried had been lifted—if only for this fleeting moment at the boundary between reality and dream.

“You finally stopped speaking like that,” Il-Hwan rasped after his laughter died down.

You blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Il-Hwan only grinned. “'Pardon my crude explanation. I am currently in the process of studying the mechanism—'” His attempt to mimic your formal tone was wackier than anything else.

“—That’s the gist of what I got after we started talking for a while. I thought you’d go on and on like that.”

You coughed into your hand, eyes darting to the side in an attempt to save yourself. “That’s… that is how I normally talk—”

“Then you’re a good kid. Stop apologizing so much and cut yourself some slack.”

His hand ruffled your hair, leaving it slightly messy. You didn’t know exactly how to respond, other than nodding shyly.

“Okay.”

Il-Hwan’s grin stayed as he ruffled your hair a second time for good measure.

“So, what were you going to say about this place?”

“Ah.” You snapped out of it and continued where you last left off. “Since this place is like an imagined land, only the maker and their specific invitees are able to attend. I’m guessing this restriction is what canceled out your Ruler’s possession at the last moment.”

Sung Il-Hwan seemed to contemplate your words.

“My child—Aria is the invitation, your lifeforce is the requirement to enter. But,” You closed your eyes, recalling your last glimpse of her before you sent her away to be cared for by the others back in the garden. The silver of her wing had looked better, the seasick pallor not as pronounced as before, but she wouldn’t have been here if not for his help.

Your hands curled slightly as you exhaled. “I can't thank you enough, for also allowing her to feed off your lifeforce. I would have lost her otherwise." This time, it was you who bowed deeply to him, gratitude etched into every fiber of your being. When you straightened up, you held out both of your hands, staring straight into his eyes.

“I wanted to do something to repay your kindness.”

Sung Il-Hwan’s brows furrowed slightly, a hesitant smile on his face. “Young Lady, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The words came out firmer than you expected. You swallowed, steadying yourself.

You remembered those images vividly—the ones from the story, the ones that had once only been fiction to you. His body dissolving into shards of light, scattering into the wind. The embrace he shared with Jinwoo, the apologies for not being there, for not being enough. The image of Jinwoo standing there, forced to watch, unable to stop it. You remembered how your tears had dripped onto your phone screen, mirroring the ones Jinwoo could not shed fast enough.

It was as if you had felt his pain. As if you had lost your father, too.

Except now—you didn’t even remember what yours looked like. If you even had one.

Your fingers trembled slightly. “Please…” The plea barely made it past your lips, a whisper carried away by the unseen breeze. You cast your gaze downward, watching the way the red blooms swayed around you. “Please, let me do this for you.”

Silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the faint rustling of petals brushing against fabric.

Then, warmth.

Calloused, bandaged palms pressed against your own. You exhaled, only now realizing you’d been holding your breath. Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused, golden embers flickering to life between your entwined hands. You wasted no time, channeling a portion of lifeforce into him, hoping—praying—that it would be enough. Enough to prolong his time, to give him a chance not only to speak to Jinwoo, but to meet his wife and daughter as well.

Even if his body still crumbled in the end, even if you couldn’t change his fate completely, at least he could say a proper goodbye.

You saw the shadow of weariness hidden behind his smile; you could hear it in his voice as he talked. And now, you could feel it in the depths of his soul.

His wish was to be reunited with his family.

He had never asked for more than that.

And yet—

{Target cannot receive <Blessings of [][][][]>}

-----

What Il-Hwan noticed first was the squeeze on his hands, firm but trembling. And then, just as quickly, the warmth of magic was severed.

"Young Lady?" His voice was gentle, but concern laced his tone.

Your head remained down, strands of hair falling over your face, obscuring it from view, but he could see the way your shoulders began to shake. He noticed the faint ripples forming at your feet—quiet and unchecked, salty droplets dripping down onto the red-drenched field below.

"Why...?" Your voice wavered, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it felt louder than any shout. "Why can't I...?"

When his hand rested upon your head again, your head snapped up at him. What was reflected in his grey eyes were your blank ones, so vacant they might as well have been hollow, carrying an exhaustion so deep it felt... ancient.

A toothy smile stretched across your tear-streaked face, a smile that just didn't belong. Despaired. Broken.

Twice too late, twice forbidden when you were able to help. And now, even here, in this imagined land, you were denied the chance to—not even to save him, but to grant his only wish that you now knew, for certain, would never get to be fulfilled in this lifetime. 

"You're dying."

You whispered the words as if saying them aloud would make them real, as if they hadn’t already settled deep into your bones. The muscles of your cheeks straining.

Yet, Il-Hwan wasn’t troubled by the sliver of mania laced in your voice, nor the anger buried beneath he knew was not aimed at him. Because, in that moment, he saw a child—the little girl who clung to his legs before he left for work, tears soaking into the fabric of his pants, unwilling to see her father leave for just a few hours.

Neither of them knowing, one was too young at the time to fully understand, that they wouldn't be able to see each other again.

So, with the same assuring smile he once gave his young daughter, he gently patted your head, and watched as the mask you wore shattered. Your lip trembling before you let out a sob, your hand clutched at him—at anything—just to ground yourself, to keep yourself from breaking further.

A lighthearted chuckle rumbled from Il-Hwan’s chest when your sobs slowly dwindled to small snivels.

"Didn’t I just say to cut yourself some slack, Young Lady?" His voice was warm, comforting.

You nodded, though it was pitiful, barely a gesture at all.

Then, the distant rumble echoed through the space.

Sung Il-Hwan patted your head one last time with that caring expression still plastered on his face. "Well, I suppose this is goodbye."

His hand left your head, and he turned—but your grip tightened on the other, halting him in place.

"Young Lady...?"

Your eyes fell on the silver band dangling from the chain around his neck. Your earlier thoughts resurfaced, your resolve finding its way back to you.

If you couldn’t give him more time— If you couldn’t grant him his wish— Fine.

Then the least you could do was ease his heart. Even if it was just by a little!

"Mr. Sung, your family is well!"

Admittedly, Sung Il-Hwan was startled when you near screamed the words out loud, but you were too focused on ensuring that he heard every single piece.

"Mrs. Sung is as healthy as can be. Jinah is studying hard to become a doctor!" Were you afraid that you wouldn’t get this chance again?

"And Jinwoo—!"

{The current information cannot be shared. Tread wisely, 'Trial Player.'}

"Jin... woo..." Your throat tightened.

Your hand squeezed his as the other fist crumpled the fabric of your dress. Your gaze locked onto Il-Hwan’s own, desperate to convey what words could not.

"He's doing the best he can."

You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but Sung Il-Hwan did. He could see it, as clear as the bright sky above.

"He always has."

Something stirred. Distant, a familiar sensation.

And I wanted to make sure that—

Barely registering the pain anymore, the overwhelming fatigue, the utter emptiness within.

"They miss you..."

When on the edge, a single glimpse into fragmented memories. Fingertips ghosting over a face on a smooth surface. Aching at the sight, yet unable—unwilling—to look away.

He’ll reach his happy ending.

A spider's thread, and a lifeline lost somewhere in the abyss. A new will, a new reason to live, however flawed.

He and his loved ones.

"So, so much."

You clung to it. To a promised happiness.

{What about your own?}

{ . . . }

Silence.

The rumble drew closer, louder. Sung Il-Hwan’s mouth parted, then closed. The way his messy bangs cast a shadow over his eyes.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, the way his shoulders trembled.

Then, his voice, quieter this time. "Young Lady, may I ask your name?"

Had you said something wrong? Had you overstepped?

"I'm... (Name)..." You took a deep breath to try and quell the nervousness. "You can call me (Name), Mr. Sung."

"(Name)."

For some reason, you flinched at the way he said it. Not out of fear, but uncertainty. What was it in his tone that tugged at your heartstrings?

Then, he turned to you fully, and your breath caught.

"It is truly the highest of honors to meet you, Young Lady."

Warmth. You felt... warm.

Thank you.

The tiny butterflies of light fluttered rampantly from every direction, obscuring view. The cracks working their way in from the edges, the world shattering.

You were forced to let go of his hand.

"And thank you for answering my inquiry, (Name)."

Following those last words, was a voice filled with contentment.

And then, you woke up.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [25/01/2025]

Can you all tell how many times I cried while writing this chapter? Or am I just that sensitive? 🥲

I hope my portrayal of Sung Il-Hwan in this chapter fits in his character at least.

Anyway, if it's not obvious, the "inquiry" Sung Il-Hwan referred to is the-"I wonder if my son already has his special someone.”

So, in a nutshell: We just got father-in-law's approval, and we didn't even realize it (at least, not currently in the story). 😉

[teeramoonlover]

Slytherin Boys - When things couldn’t work out for them

Mattheo Riddle • Theodore Nott • Lorenzo Berkshire • Draco Malfoy • Blaise Zabini

Warning: Angst, Grammatical error

Mattheo Riddle

Fake Relationship Too Late to Save

You remember the first time you met him in the library as he approached your table, asking if you could help him with his studying. Without you realize, the conversation between you and him bloom to something more. Stolen glances across the halls, hanging out at the Astronomy Tower for him to have smoke while you just need a company. He then brings you to Hogsmeade, sort of a date as he jokingly said, until the moment he kiss you under the first fall of snow. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"And it feel like the start of the movie I've seen before."

You never feel happier. He was your first kiss, first boyfriend. First in everything you couldn't imagine you'd get yourself into. Your friend told you his bad news, but he was sweet to you. You believed him. You told him one night on his crumpling bedsheets, with no clothes. Deep inside, he has goodness in him, it just no one bother to notice. That was the moment you see the glimpse of his true feelings to you, in his eyes like you were the stars to his dark universe.

That was until you heard his friend remind him about the bet. A bet for him to take your virginity. Galleons could be heard exchange among them but you couldn't see the reluctant look of his face. You were gone the moment it happen, without a glance back.

That was a month ago. After you overheard their conversation, you don’t want to ruin the moment. So, you play along with his game, crushing you trust pieces by pieces.

You could feel how slowly he's opening up to you, but your mind couldn't help to remind this was all a façade. His genuine laugh which was meant for you to see but thought it never felt the same. Passion kiss that he can't live without but feels empty for you. The way he hold you like he is worried you might slip away, slowly feel suffocating for you to handle. It was too much for you when he was over the moon.

When he starts to promise he will be with you for an eternity, you know you have to end it. Because you don’t want to give him hope as you slowly, dying out of love.

"But, it's not real, and you don't exist."

Theodore Nott

Secret Relationship Gone Wrong

Funny, isn't it? To think that one day he will be holding hands with you in the hallway, letting everyone know that you were together with him. His watercolour eyes were always dead once ablaze when his lips touched yours behind closed doors. His hands roamed, holding you in bed, gazing at you like you were his lifeline after he made sure his room was locked. His smile was bright under the sun, head on your lap near the Black Lake far away from pry eyes. Late night walks, spending time stargazing, sneaking out like thieves without getting caught by prefects and friends.

"I want a witness, he's staying guarded

He wants the blinds drawn, I just want him."

But as soon Hogwarts comes to life, no greetings nor eye contact as you and him cross the halls. His eyes never held warm, as if you were a stranger in the presence of his friend. Let random girls touch, flirting with him since he doesn't do relationships, as people claim. His lips stretched with a mockery smile as his friends belittled you in the worst possible way. You could only cry under the moonlight when he broke his promises, one at a time.

"Does he know it's killing me?

He'll never show me off."

Rumours spread that he's seeing someone. His friends claim they are dating. Your eyes meet with his hand intertwined with hers in the hallways. Realization hit you that a muggle like you shouldn't be dreaming of being with a pureblood boy like him. As you walk further from them, your head turned towards him as if you feel someone's eyes on you. Surprisingly, your eyes accidentally met his. His eyes sparkled as he saw you but slowly morphed into something you had never seen before. "What's wrong, Theo? You look like you've seen a ghost." The girl in green robes asked him worriedly.

"And I know that I should walk away this time"

Because the last time he saw was your resign smile as if that was her final goodbye for him.

After all, he will never show you off to the world you were his, as he wasn't yours to begin with.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Friends to Lovers to Stranger

You and Lorenzo were inseparable since you were both kids. Of course, little you will be having a silly crush on him as you grow older.

"I had a friend that turned to a lover."

You both surprisingly confess your love towards each other at the same time. It was like you and him were meant to be. After all, you know every little detail about him, so does he.

But maybe that too was the reason the relationship wouldn't last. Because you know him too much. Or you never know him at all.

"I'm stuck here wondering, wondering what I did wrong

You’re the one that I want."

Seeing him with someone else beside you pains you to no end. When he asks you for a breakup, you feel like the world is about to end. For him, he moved on from you too quickly as twisted as it sounds. He told you he finally found someone that understood him.

Then, what am I to you after all these years?

The last straw was he picked her over you, over and over again. Even if she was at fault, there would be a reason for you to blame, even though it wasn't. The last thing you remembered was that you had the biggest fight you ever had with him. His sentence will engrave in your mind.

"You know, I shouldn't have met you. I shouldn't even confess to you. You're just too obsessed with what I'm doing in my life, which is not any of your concern anymore. That's why I end it. Because you're being too much."

"I wonder if you, you still remember

The time when you told me no matter what happens we’d still have each other

But that was a lie."

After the war, you lived in a rural place. A place that you both once dreamed of when you were kids. A small hut that can see the sight of a pond, sparkling from sunrise till sunset.

You stop caring for him, even if it hurts to do so. You don't want to bother him with your presence. You don't want to show you care. Because it was too much for him. You can't seem to grasp the idea of being a stranger the next time you saw him.

So, you do what's best for you. You keep all his photos, gifts, even a stupid doddle, and sweet words he once told you in a box. You dig and cover the box full of memories deep in the Earth's soil, making it like a small mini graveyard for your fleeting memories of him. Astoria came to your doorstep. Her eyes held doubt, worried about you.

"Are you sure about this?"

You slowly sit on one of the chairs outside, picturing the scene one last time. You turn to look at Astoria, holding a smile that never reaches your eyes.

"It's for the best. You're a bright witch. I know you can do it."

Astoria took her time, before lifting her wand towards your head.

"Obliviate."

Draco Malfoy

This Relationship was Bound to End Anyway

"Care to explain why I heard about the arranged marriage of you with Astoria Greengrass?" Your bloodshot eyes meet with his cold silver ones. You could remember those pairs were always warm every time he laid his eyes on you.

Those were the memories you cherished dearly as the days went by. How you first found him in the Hospital Wing when you were both in third years because he's being a bloody idiot to challenged a hippogriff. Madam Pomfrey assured him it was just a scratch and not making a big deal out of it, while little you slowly approached him to tell him it would be just fine. You even put the soothing balm on his injured arm to emphasize your words.

You were shocked when he approached you, asking to be his partner for the Yule Ball. Of course you say yes. After all, you always attract the broken souls. That was until he kiss you under the mistletoe at the Astronomy Tower, and confess you to be his.

After troubles upon troubles he's done, you never left his side. You loved him deeply, so does he. Promises upon promises he made for you but the one you believe the most were both of you will be forever. Until the moment his father was caught and sent to Azkaban because he's working associated with the Dark Lord.

"Darling, nobody say that it will last forever."

You can feel his sudden shift. How he become distant from you. How he become so quiet and prefer live among shadows, even you can't bring out the joy in him. You know he was a Death Eaters. But you still stay. During the war, you plead to him for the last time, but he was the boy who had no choice.

So he left you, among the shambles. So does your breaking heart.

You thought when the war is over, he will come back to you. Oh how wrong you were.

"Just like that? No explanation, nothing to tell me at all? If you don’t love me anymore, at least spare me your goodbyes."

After you broke things off with him, next week you had receive his wedding card. Him and now Astoria Malfoy.

Six years later, rumors told that he had a son but unfortunately for the wife, she passed away. It's been a long time since you never spoke to him. Until that night.

He still miss you. He couldn't move on from you. He wants to fulfill the promise they both made since fifteen.

"Hope you know, I wished you all the love you're looking for"

Today he's wearing his best suit to look presentable to you, waiting for you walking down the aisle, towards the altar. You look beautiful in your overflow wedding dress. For the first time, he saw you the happiest. They exchange the vows. For you now, to take Fred Weasley as your husband and him to declare the world that you are his.

After all, you were always attract the broken souls as if you were the angel that guide their lost to the light. Draco Malfoy was once your lost souls. It's time for Fred to feel the same, as he deserve after the loss of his twin.

"Two burning hearts are dared to break,

Remember, nobody said that it would last forever."

Blaise Zabini

Can't Live Without Dead Lover

It was just a marriage, bound without love.

You know what you get yourself into, but you can't help but fall deep into him.

He was a kind gentleman but never was with you. His words were never gentle nor did a single kindness wherever he spoke to you. He will always remind you who you are to him. He never once laid a hand on you. His touch was always cold, but you embrace his flaw. Even if it will kill you in the end.

"In the end, you’ll leave me like all those men walking out from my mother's life."

He should have uttered those words carefully. He couldn't help but say them so you could feel the pain like he had right now.

However, slowly and surely, there's a saying that men love too late. But you still wait for him. You understood the unfairness that was given to him.

He never felt grateful. You, as his wife never sway from his immature tantrums and stupid shenanigans. He felt like you deserve someone better. So, he made the best out of this marriage. He wants a family. He wants to be a better man for you.

Every time he was done working at the Ministry, to him, coming home was bliss. Because you will be there to embrace him with a warm, undying love that he never felt before, even from his own mother.

"It was heaven a moment ago

I had it almost, we had it almost."

But it seems like the universe was mocking him. The previous words with blunt venom towards his beloved wife slowly set them like a prayer to become true. A wish of your existence permanently erased from his life.

Your last moment with him was when he brought you to the theatre. As a gift for their anniversary. It was like his past coming back to him, eating him alive. It happened too fast. The unforgivable spell was meant for him, but you won't let that happen. You love him too much. So, you hug him for one final time and take the hit.

The only thing he could remember was him crying, hugging your body close to him, felt your last, final breath. Your body lay in the coffin as he kissed your forehead with your cold hand in his. Your tombstone held your name as a reminder of your absence in his manor.

"I can't seem to let myself leave you,

But I can't breathe anymore

I can't seem to not need to need you,

And I can't breathe anymore."

Every year he will visit you with your favorite bouquets of flowers. He knew you despise loneliness, especially in the dark. So, he will make sure to spend as much time with you, telling you about his journey. As if you were there for him.

In his dream, in his heart. Always.

[lost-in-lamentation]

failures, together.

a/n: (・・;)

content: not long after arriving at the devildom, you find yourself needing some affirmation from the representative of greed.

warnings: reader does kind of have a mental breakdown, but nothing intense.

mammon × gen!reader. hurt/comfort.

for @lulusupreme my beloved oomf (sorry i'm late)

“i just don't know what to do.”

“look, i don’t have any advice either. i'm only babysitting you cause lucifer threw you at me.” mammon clicked his tongue softly, turning away from your figure standing in the doorway. “if it weren't for him keeping goldie in jail, i would have tossed you outside already.”

“aren't you helpful.” with gritted teeth, you slammed the door and stormed further into his room, forcefully planting yourself on the other end of the couch.

mammon jerked at the action, whipping back around to face you. “oi, the hell you think you're doing?!”

grumbling, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead of you at empty space. “i don't know, mammon. waiting to wake up from this nightmare, maybe?”

“we already told ya, human. this ain’t no dream or nightmare.”

“and i already told you, i have a name.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. my only job is to make sure you're not in immediate danger so just… don't go outside, ‘kay? i don't wanna have to watch you all the time.”

you felt your anger starting to bubble over, your knuckles white as you balled your hands into fists. “it's not fair.”

mammon only snorted at your statement. “damn right it's not fair. how come i had to get stuck with you? why not asmo-”

“no- what's not fair, is that i had to be dragged down here! for some stupid program? asking me what i think i'm doing, well what about you? what are you doing bringing a human like me down here?!” your chest began heaving with the effort to breathe and yell, the heat behind your fury turning white as you snapped at the demon.

the second born barely gave you a glance, his voice raising to match yours. “hell if i know! i didn't want some useless ragdoll with me here anyways!”

the words echoed in your brain, causing the last string of composure to snap. “useless… ragdoll…”

mammon finally turned his head to look at you, ready to let loose another string of harsh insults, only to stop when he saw the expression on your face. “uh… human? what's going on with you?”

you lifted your hands shakily, palms up as they stopped just before they could cup your own face. “that’s all i am, isn’t it? useless?”

“o-oi, you’re freaking me out here-”

“you agree, don’t you?!” with shallow breaths, you snapped at him, feeling your desperation spill out in the form of tears. “so then why did they bring me here…?” you curled into yourself slowly, hands wrapping at the base of your neck and gathering fistfuls of your shirt. “i’m not worth anything- i won’t be able to do anything,” you whispered out. “mammon, i’ve barely done anything yet and i’m already a failure.”

silence washed over you like an unforgiving wave. amidst your muted sniffles, you couldn’t make out any movements from the demon on the other side of the couch. after a few minutes had passed, you debated about getting up, hoping to run away to your room with no mention of this incident ever again. instead, when you opted to stand up, there was a much gentler voice than you imagined that broke through the quiet.

“i doubt it,” mammon whispered back.

ever so slightly, you shifted your gaze to the side to look at him. “... huh?”

mammon, now put on the spot, ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. “trust me. in lucifer’s eyes, there’s no bigger failure than me. most of the time, at least.”

“really?” feeling a little braver, you lifted your head back up. you were just in time to see the tips of his ears dusted with embarrassment.

“ya don’t have to sound so happy about that!” mammon spared you a gaze that only lasted a second, perhaps too aware of the way you looked at him the way he wished his brothers did once in a while. “if there’s one thing about those guys, it’s that they know what they’re doing. and if they say you can do it, then you can. probably.”

as the last of your tears slipped away, you returned mammon’s words with a shaky nod. “you don’t think i’ll fail?”

scoffing, mammon crossed his arms and returned to his usual demeanor. “i didn’t say that.”

“oh.”

“but,” he continued a heartbeat later. “if lucifer calls ya a failure for no reason… you can always come and find me.” as soon as the words left his mouth, mammon jumped up to his feet, crossing the room in a few quick strides.

“so that we can be failures together?” you asked, a smile breaking into your expression.

“hey, even if we’re both failures, i’m still more fun than that stuck-up brother of mine.” the demon grabbed his leather jacket from his coat rack, shrugging it on before fishing around in the pockets for a set of keys. “let’s get going; i’m still babysitting you after all.”

you cleaned your face with your sleeves, making sure your eyes were dry before hopping up to follow mammon. “where are we going?”

“you’ve been here almost two weeks and ya still haven’t seen the whole of the devildom." mammon said, half laughing at the absurdity of it all. "can’t have you getting lost before you can do anything else.”

a/n: season 23 of my life begins today! and episode one is with mammon apparently

comments and reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[unknownmads]

YALL ARE IN FOR A TREAT!! PRISON TOJI TIME!!!!!

this is smutty yall!! also: thigh riding, fingering, female reader!(sorry boys and nonbinaries lemme know if u want sum) , degrading(ONLY ONCE JSUT SLUT!!!) semi- public Uhhh if i forgot any i apologize HOPE U ENJOY!!!!

Prison Toji who finally snaps his cuffs unable to take anymore. grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap his face clashing with your the kiss is sloppy and full of need. a small sound escaping as he deepens the kiss.

"i've been dreaming of this."

your legs hang off the side of the cold metal chair, sending shivers up your body as your legs brush against it. his large hands have a hold on your back keep you in his grip, they take up the majority of your back they are HUGE. HES HUGE. the dress you wore riding up further with each movement and he know. his other hand traveling down towards your thigh, you try to pull away from the heated kiss but hes pulling you back before you can.

“toji i-i shit i can’t my school my class. what if they find ou-“ you’re cut off by another kiss this time he’s pulling away first. his voice low and relaxed almost if he hasn’t got a worry in the world.

“it’s fine doll no one will know. you worry too much. lemme help you relax” his hands now both traveling to your hips rubbing small circles before he’s lifting you and settling you on one of his legs. He drags your body closer towards his chest until he’s happy with the position, not failing to notice the way your thighs tense and clench as he moves you, or how warm and wet your core feels on his leg. Even through his pants he can feel it. you really need him that bad? just from a few sloppy kisses?

“t-toji” his eyes travel back up to yours focusing on your blushed face and eyes screaming for want. He can barely fight back the smirk growing in his face. that’s all it took to make you cave huh?

“what is it doll? what do you need? tell me.” his eyes almost pierce your soul with the way he stares. like you’re the prey he’s been hunting and he’s finally caught you. your hips begin to move almost as if instinctively slowly grinding in his thigh. hands moving to grip his shoulders for extra support you can’t bother to stop yourself. It feels too good, HE feels too good. the way his eyes watch you shamelessly, hungry you could cum from that alone.

“need you f-fuck toji please” your eyes meeting his once more almost begging for him. That’s all it took. your words traveling straight to his dick he could practically cum on the spot. He never said he wasn’t a weak man. especially when you look so pretty trying to get yourself off on him. How could he ever resist?

“don’t worry pretty i’ll take care of you. just wait a lil longer alright doll? then i’ll be real nice to ya and this slutty pussy. f-fuck so fuckin pretty for me.” his hands still gripped on your hips following your pace leaving dark bruises along your neck. his head dropping your you shoulder still leaving kisses in between pants. “ttoji no more waiting need more if you now.” he broke.

he can’t wait any longer he needs to see you come undone for him. he’s lifting you once more almost as if your nothing to him. this time both of your legs sit in between his thighs giving him the perfect opening to your pretty pussy without anyone else enjoying the show. before you can process the new position he’s grabbing your face and pulling you into another kiss. letting it trail down to your jaw and neck turning your head to give him better access. well what’s exposed of your chest. small moans and gasps being ripped from you with every new mark.

“how can i say no when you look so pretty needin me baby? i’ll make ya feel better don’t worry.” his hands sliding to your thighs almost engulfing them. each hand pulling your legs further apart to give him better access, only for your dress to fill the gaps.

he doesn’t mind tho flimsy fabric can’t stop him from his goal, fingers traveling further in and up until they are grazing your core. Heat filling your body with every movement and word that leaves him. watching his movements only worsens the anticipation, and you can see how hard he is from all of this his cock still aching in his pants below you.

“mind if i take these baby?? it’s not like you’ll need them.” he’s looking at you toying with the hem of your panties your body grows impossibly hot from the question before you nods no. god if he had the time to take you and fuck you hear he would.

“ah ah ah need your words.” his eyes locked on your lips awaiting your answer you can feel the tension it’s so thick you can barely breathe. “take them.” that���s all it took before he was practically ripping them off your body. your body shivers at how exposed you are now. you watch closely as he stuffs the panties into a pocket quickly before he returns his attention to you. You. his eyes are locked.he’s starved for you.

He’s wasting absolutely no time before his thumb circles your clit finally giving the stimulation you’ve been on the verge of tears for. but you didn’t notice now his pointer and middle circle your entrance prodding at it waiting til your ready and he can stuff you in the only way he can right now. “she’s just so pretty crying for me look at her.” his eyes glued to your pussy taking in every cry and jolt your body releases. it’s all for him.

your quiet moans and gasps are gone now replaces with cries and whines gripping at his arms and shirt.

“f-fuck toji t-toji need more. m-more please shit.” your nails digging crescent moon shapes into his arms as he slides one finger in pumping it slowly until he slides in the other. “whatever you need baby. god look at how she takes me” his fingers are large. much larger than yours they stretch you a little but all you want is more. small moans and gasps leaving his lips, he might actually cum his pants from this. the way your eyes glue shut, moans and strings of cusses leaving your lips, how he has to keep you held in place with one hand, while the other working on you, making you into a beautiful mess.

“gotta make this quick baby we’re running out of time.” he’s out of breath panting between each word. he’s feeling the heat too. toji’s eyes flash to the clock then back to your face. god your beautiful face scrunched up with pleasure lips red and swollen from the kisses, mouth agape moans and cries not so quietly escaping. you’re just irresistible. his pace quickens searching for the spongy spot that’ll make you scream his thumb trying to keep quick pace to keep you crying out his name. god he want to hear that forever.

your eyes shoot open back to his before you take him into a deep hungry kiss. he’s left swallowing your moans and cries. he’s found the spot he wanted.

“god don’t stop toji i s-wear. don’t stop i’m so f-fucking close. please p-lease dont fucking stop. g-gonna cum.” you’re too pretty it’s gonna kill him. or get him killed. shit. your eyes lock shut again trying to relish in the feelings. before you feel him slow down. not a lot but enough just enough to get your attention.

“keep those pretty eyes open, want you looking at me when i make her cry for me baby.” your eyes stay locked on each other you eagerly nod and he begins at a hellish pace once more. you fight closing your eyes hands gripping his arms for dear life. your pussy sucking his finger in more clenching around them so much they might break.

“shi-shit shit shit cum-cumming toji ffff-fuck.” your body almost convulses the euphoria washing over you, your thighs shaking head dropping into his chest as you try to slow your breathing while coming down.

“taste so good too. shit.” he moans unbeknownst to you licking his fingers clean of your slick. too focused on coming down you couldn’t even notice him. Then he’s pulling you into another deep kiss, you can taste yourself on his lips. moaning into the kiss deepening it then, you hear three knocks on the door. Toji practically ripping you from him standing you up ensuring your steady then standing up himself and turning to look at you.

“ive got to go now doll face. i’ll see you again soon though right?” his hand cupping your face having you look up at him before you silently nod yes. he can practically see the stars in your eyes from the previous moments. “good baby and thanks for the gift.” he says patting his pocket where your panties were. His body turning walking towards the door conversing with the guard having them recuff him and walk him away. He’s eyes not leaving yours as he fades from view. then you’re being guided out by the other guard in the opposite direction.

your eyes looking back meeting his once more a smirk on his face flashing you a wink before you leave through the heavy metal doors.

this definitely broke so many rules.

✮✮✮

this was my first time writing smutty tell me how i did pls

I HOPE YALL ENJOY lowkey had fun writing this!!

i realized i never specified what yn was wearing so just think of like a flowy sundress can be whatever color or design you dream babe!!

toji is def beating it using y/n panties.

too sleepy to review it rn buttttt i will in the morning!

i hope i got everyone on the tag list im SO sorry this has taken so long i love yall so much i will try to be better. kisses love yall :33

Here’s the tag list: @kimkimmm2411 @tojislittleprincesss @mynahx3 @sukunasleftkneecap @meforpr3sident @mmeerraa @kunakizen @thedondiva45 @malatuadimadre @darknight3904 @charlie-higson @empressofsnow

[stopaskinf]

Drabble from this: inspired by this video 👆🏾and a piece of drunk Gojo fanart I cannot be bothered to find rn.

Warning: toxic relationship, femdom!sugarmama!black!fem reader, college au! Subby! Kim hongjoong, he’s insane, talk of cnc but doesn’t actually happen, Hongjoong has an intoxication fetish lowkey, he’s insane

All Hongjoong remembers before he got to your shared home was that he had finals, and 2 bottles of Bacardi after finals.

He doesn’t know what time he arrived home, but he knows he was there before you; although, that doesn’t say much considering your line of work.

He ought to ask you about it one day. Hongjoong only knows two things about your job. First, It’s making you filthy rich. Most college aged people can only dream about having a black card, let alone use it so carelessly. Second, it keeps you out of the house; which he resents your job for.

He laid on the king bed still in his Balmain suit and matching loafers. His eyes were half lidded and glossy. He was being kissed by the deadly allure of sleep, but he was determined to see you.

“Oh…Hi baby. You asleep?”

You finally came home.

He lazily turns his head and grabs your free hand while your other supports your weight on the bed.

“Where were you?”

Even when his ears and cheeks are kissed red by drink, he’s still possessive.

“Work, hun.”

“Quit”

He nuzzles his hand further into your palm. His thumbs rub your knuckles in loose patterns.

“Baby, how am I supposed to take care of you when I’m broke…are you drunk?”

He nods, ruffling the bedsheets with his movement.

“Mhm…why you wanna know? You wanna take advantage of me?”

His eyes hold a mischievous gleam in them as he brings your palm in for a long, slow kiss. Anyone who saw him would have believed he was born to seduce. To lead good people to their destruction.

“No, goofy. I’m trying to make sure you’re ok.”

You rub his cheek and flash him a sweet smile. Hongjoong can’t stand it. It’s been weeks since you’ve touch him. He knows he doesn’t need to provide “sugar” in this arrangement with you, but that doesn’t stop his sweet tooth.

“Is there someone else?” He glares icily at you.

“No-“

“Cause if there is, I’ll kill them. I’m make sure there will be nowhere left to find that bitch when I’m through.”

“Ok, honey-“

“Then I’ll burn this place to the ground with you in it. In fact, I’ll sit outside and watch it burn. I’ll make sure you’re gone. I’ll be damned if some other bitch is showing you lo-“

His drunken ramble is quickly silenced by the intrusion of your thumb entering his mouth. He feels it rest on his tongue as your acrylic threatens to poke uvula. Thank god, he has a bad gag reflex. He may be rabid but he’s a well-trained dog. He closes the top roof of his mouth just enough to leave a faint ident on your knuckle; then he begins suckling on your thumb.

Small suction and kitten licks become pornographic as he hollows his cheeks and swirls his tongue around your digit. A faint bit of drool dribbles down his chin from his sloppiness. It leaves him unsatisfied, he needs something bigger, pulsing.

You slowly wean him off your thumb to see his dazed expression. His ears, cheeks and chest are now crimson and scorching. His eyes are glazed over with lust as you bring your spit covered thumb to his cheek. You see the erection forming in the trousers you bought him and a thrill goes through you.

“Mmm…C’mon, fuck me.”

“No.”

“C’mon, please,please, I’m so drunk I wouldn’t even be able to fight back. You could do whatever you want to me.”

He squirms closer to your form and bites your hand.

“Besides, I owe it to you don’t I? Just need to fulfill my bargain. Make my momma happy right? Need to let her use me and pour more alcohol down my slutty throat.”

He turns his head and licks your thumb. He gives it a small kiss and looks up at you as he says, “Need to please you Ma’am.”

“How ‘bout we talk about this in the morning baby.”

God, you’re gonna fucking kill him.

[yoursjaeyun]

harder — sim jaeyun.

p. bf!jake x gf!reader g. smut, mdni w. p***y eating (fem receiving), foreplay, teasing sub!reader, hair pulling, explicit language, nicknames, dirty talk. lmk if i need to add more. an. i think i just made the hottest comeback ever ngl.. /hj. anyways, its been a while since i made a drabble, considering my lack of motivation for writing, idk if yall will like this one sjsb, but enjoy my loves <3 i missed doing these.

“I’m home.”

Your boyfriend walked through the door visibly exhausted. You knew the schedules for him this week were tight and he hadn’t got the chance to spend time with you like usual, but you understood and tried to make the best of it.

“How was work?” you asked, you watched his every move as he took off his jacket and shoes before walking towards you; immediately laying down in-between your legs while he hugged your waist. “The same everyday.”

“Have the members been helping you out lately?” you began to play with his hair; the way you scratched and massaged his scalp gently made him groan against your stomach, already going into oblivion from how good it felt — so he hummed sweetly in response.

“I’m sure you’ve done your best today, baby.”

His hands made their way under your shirt — and out of nowhere, he started to place soft kisses on your bear waist, shivering from his touch. He played with the waistbands of your shorts, then lifting himself up to kiss you.

You tilted your head to deepen into his mouth as your lips danced together in unison; at this point you were too drunk in his clasp — the way he caressed your thighs up to your stomach, his lips, his everything, you were melting.

And in melting i mean soaked.

Nothing but the sound of saliva filled the room. You whined after he broke the kiss so suddenly; just for him to go further down from your body, placing wet kisses onto your thighs as his hooded eyes stared at you.

“Can I?”

You could never say no, so you nodded in response. His hand went under your stomach for him to lift you up, pulling down your shorts easily — leaving him with your panties. The wet patch was already noticeable for him to see, smirking at the sight, blushing in embarrassment.

“Jaeyun.. please.” you begged, you were desperate. Too desperate, considering you missed him that much. “Patience, baby girl.” he then slowly tugged down your underwear, throwing it elsewhere.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..”

“Just for you—” you moaned when he started to give you kitten licks, “—mmh, don’t tease..” his nose nudged against your clit perfectly before wiggling his tongue inside of you, you gasped as he easily slid in from how soaked you were. He moved his muscles along your velvety walls, lapping all the juices there were.

Jake loved, loved eating you out, he could never get enough of you the way you tasted, and even smelled was his fever dream.

and there you were, a moaning mess just for him and him only. Your angelic and sweet moans made him want more of you, his tongue going in and out of your hole. He looked up when his tongue was buried deep inside, seeing your lips confined between your lips, your eyes closed shut from the immense pleasure.

“Jakey..” you exhaled deeply, your pussy gushed at the sudden touch of his tongue on your sensitive bud, trying to lift your hips— but he knew already, helping you lift yourself up with his hands so he could adjust to eating you out more easily. His lips were sucking, nibbling, licking onto every spot possible, grinding his tongue along your folds in a faster pace.

He was the perfect defenition of being pussy drunk.

You felt the familiar feeling in your stomach, indicating you were close. Your moans were louder than ever before. Not even realising that your hands ended up in his hair once again from the pleasure. “I- I’m close.. fuck!” he patted your hips in a reassuring way, signalling for you to cum for him.

and you did. The stars in your eyes began to form as your pussy clenched against his mouth while he kept going. You yelped when you felt him groan loudly— realising you pulled too hard on his hair. but he continued to clean whatever that was left coming out your hole.

“Shit— I-” you tried to talk but he instead smashed his lips onto yours again, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Did i.. did i pull too hard? I’m sorry—” he was seemingly unamused, so you let him finish the make out session with you.

“You’re so cute.” he chuckles.

“Maybe pull harder next time.”

YOURSJAEYUN EST. 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[tencrushesperday]

Sparks Fly

matt rempe x reader

warnings: angst, 1k

i was doing friendship bracelets for the eras tour with my friend bc she’s going and we were listening to speak now and i knew i had to write something for matt, and i had also seen this pic of matt with wet hair and i knew i had to fit the lyrics of the song

You had to tell Matt about the job offer you had gotten. It was the only one you got since you finished your degree. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t your dream job. But it would pay the taxes and it was in your field of choice so it would have to do.

You had also convinced yourself that with his growing popularity, soon he wouldn’t care for you. You would never think him capable of cheating. But who said he would never get bored of you. You were repeating to yourself that you were doing the both of you a favour.

He walked out of the locker room, hair still wet from the shower, cheeks flushed. He was such a sight to behold. The thought that he was your boyfriend still seemed bizarre sometimes.

He grinned when his eyes laid on you. “Hey beautiful” He bent down to kiss your cheek and you closed your eyes to encapsulate as much of this feeling as you could.

You turned in his hold to wrap your arms around his waist to hug him. A real hug. You squeezed as hard as you could and basked in the warmth of his touch. Maybe you could go back to his apartment tonight? Just spend one more night in his arms to remember every curve and hollow of his body.

But you pulled away and looked up at him “I have something to tell you Matt.”, and grabbed his hand to drag him further into a corner.

He looked at you expectantly and you had to force the words out of your mouth “I got a job offer.”.

A smile grew on his face, “That’s amazing !! Congratulations! Isn’t that good news? Why do you look so sad?” Your heart broke at his excitement.

“It’s in London”

“London, Ontario, right?” A bittersweet chuckle escaped your lips at his almost cute denial.

“London as in the capital of the United Kingdom.” his excited expression was replaced by one of confusion.

Your head dropped at your next words, “I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you before. I leave next week for the interview while you’ll be away on the road. I’m so sorry for telling you about it so late.”, they were full of shame.

He was speechless so you continued, left hand on his chest as if to make sure his heart was still beating, still warm underneath your touch, “I’ll probably take it. I don’t really have a choice. I’ll go by your apartment after you leave to get my stuff and leave my spare key. I’m so sorry for doing it this way. Good bye.”

Your hand dropped as you turned around and left the building. Realization slowly downed on Matthew. You haven’t said the words. But you just broke up with him.

———————

The interview had gone well and you were back in New York a week later to clean out your apartment.

The rain was pouring outside but you had to get your belongings into the moving van. Your lease was ending in two days so you had to move it to your parents’ place until you would find a place in London.

The movers had just loaded your couch into the truck when you heard someone call your name. You could recognise that voice amongst a thousand others.

When you turned around you found Matthew standing a few feet away, all wet from the rain, hair draped messily over his eyes. “Don’t leave.” he said through ragged breaths “Don’t go to London. Drop everything now.”

He was taking tentative steps forward as if not to scare you away. “I don’t want you to leave. It may sound selfish but I need you here. This week away from you has been one of the worst weeks in my life.”

He was right. This last week had been so dull. Everything felt wrong. It had rained all week. There was a storm that had delayed your flight to London by 4 hours. The thought of getting off the plane had crossed your mind more than once.

He was now standing in front of you on the side walk. His height towering over you and you just wanted to crash your body into his, to cower from the whole world and hide into him. “It feels like I don’t have anything to go back home to. My bed hasn’t felt like my own since I know you won’t be sleeping there every other night.” You were holding his gaze like you were holding your ground. With all your crumbling will.

“New York is chanting your name right now. You have so much success. You will find someone else to warm your bed and forget me in an instant.” The rain was kind for blending in your tears with its drops on your cheeks. It failed to hide the crack in your voice.

He laughed at your words, looking away from you for a second “Don’t give me that bullshit. Are you even listening to me? Do you think I want anyone else just to warm my bed? I couldn’t look at another girl if I wanted to. It’s you that I want.” And you believed him. Every word. A smile cracked its way on your face, through the pain and the tears. You were like a house of cards around him because you always knew there was no use putting up walls with him.

“I love you.” he had never said those words before. It took you a moment to register them. Eyes wide, mouth falling agape. To hell with reason.

You grabbed his shirt and tugged him down towards you. Your lips crashed on his before you could find words to answer his confession. Every emotion you felt this past week was poured into that kiss. Sadness, desperation, longing, passion, love. Love.

All the arguments you had previously prepared, all the reasons you convinced yourself were good enough fled your mind at the moment. And there was only him.

His hands were on your face, then on your neck, your shoulder, your back, your hips. He had you pressed against him, his shirt wrapped tightly in your fist. You were holding each other as if the other was about to disappear, as if you needed each other to survive.

Both of you were panting when you pulled apart. Through an exhale, you whispered “I love you too.”

He let his forehead fall against yours, “Then stay. We’ll figure it out.”

They say sparks fly when you’re with the right person. There was a firework show around you.

[httpsghostie]

Beneath the Surface (pt. 2)

Part one

Part two

Okay first of all the fact that the father's best friend!Simon went so well makes me worried. So we're all damaged? Anyways thank you sm!

Requests are open and appreciated, I need ideas hehehehe

Here's a part two that no one asked for

Summary: Simon follows you to the bathroom for a second round.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader, implied age gap, piv, unprotected, choking, breeding kink, slight scent kink, reader is called by lots of names, no use of y/n

masterlist

NSFW under the cut

Your heart was racing, your legs trembling when you unlocked the door of your room. It had been probably half an hour since your parents got home and everything happened. They went to sleep, not wanting to bother you and the bad-temper they knew you had before they left. You went to the bathroom and started undressing yourself, looking at your reflection in the mirror and noticing the way your hips were marked. He'd dug his nails into your flesh when he was fucking you silly and your rotting brain didn't even feel it.

His hands on your body, his words, it didn't leave your mind. You spent countless nights dreaming about this. It was so dirty, you felt so stupid and dislocated to want this when your friends talked about their normal relationships with people their age, while you daydreamed about having sex with a man that appeared every once in a while, usually accompanied by a new battle scar. And, well, speaking of the devil, the doorknob turned and he got in, locking the door behind him. 

"-the fuck are you-" your words got cut off as his lips crashed again yours, his eager hands pressing you against the balcony and squeezing your ass.

"'M not done with you." He broke the kiss and kissed a trail down your neck to your chest, where he palmed one of your tits as the other one was on his mouth. His knee pressed against your core, those fucking tight jeans that accentuated his thighs were now getting a wet spot.

He was now towering over you as he sat you down on the sink, taking off all of his clothes. He spread your legs further apart and without any warning he just thrusted into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

"How does it feel, hm?" He asks. "'Y like being stuffed, baby?" One of his hands grabs a fistful of hair behind your neck. "Such a needy whore you are, walking around with my cum in you." He planted kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone.

You clenched around him at his words, earning a small and almost animalistic groan from the back of his throat. He pulled you from the porcelain surface, letting you stand your ground before flipping you like a piece of paper. He bended you on the sink, pressing your back for you to arch for him. 

That sight. Oh, that sight. He tapped his cock on your butt a few times and brushed his tip around your folds, then he entered. This angle allowed him to go deeper, and he sighed as he grabbed your hips and started to fuck you slowly.

"God..damn it." He moaned. "So fucking tight." You kept your back arched, but slowly lifted your face from the porcelain, looking at his reflection. His back had fallen back and his eyes were closed. You weren't sure what that meant, was he enjoying it, trying to memorize how you felt? Or were you just a simple fuck to the man behind you?

Needless to say you didn't know what went through his head. But the thought of him seeing you as a hobby or a distraction made you steamed up. Oh, wow. The feeling was knotting your stomach, all the heat going to your head. You moved against him, trying to get more movement from his part. He looked at you in the mirror and gave you a smirk.

"So eager, eh?" He pulled you closer to his body.

"What's so good you can't look at me?" You ask, not knowing where you were getting into.

"Beg your pardon? " His smirk was gone and he was looking at you with lustful eyes. "Want me to look at this pretty face of yours while I ruin you, huh?" His right arm slid in front of your neck and he choked you with his muscles, your back was now glued to him. "Then take it."

You just signed your death sentence. The caring Simon you knew was probably buried deep down those giant muscles in the reflection. He fucked you mad, hand covering your mouth as his balls hit your bundle of nerves repetitively. He couldn't help himself, he needed to do this ever since you started to purposefully wear revealing clothes around him.

It started small, just a shirt with a little bit of cleavage showing. You didn't feel like it had affected him in any way, so you upgraded your game. Skirts. Skirts were his downfall. That man was covered in gasoline and you were the spark to set him on fire. The way your thighs moved, the way it complimented your body. He always said you looked beautiful in skirts and dresses, what he forgot to mention is that they'd look even better on the floor, all across the room.

He dreamt about the day this would finally happen, but he needed to be sneaky. He didn't want to lose such a strong friendship with your father just because he had an incessant desire for his daughter. It was wrong, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself when his hands were wrapped around his leaking cock in your bathroom after some silly hand appointments in the living room, usually followed up by him coming by the scent of your used pink, laced panties in the laundry basket.

"Uh-uh, open your eyes, princess." Demanded him, one hand on your throat and the other on your hip. "Want you to watch how I ruin this pussy." He gave a step forward and pressed your face against the mirror, immediately making it steam with your heatness. He held your hands back as he thrusted harder into your velvety walls. You felt your eyes closing again and he yanked your head back, choking you with his free hand. "Did I stutter?" You shake your head. 

He spat on your face and inserted his fingers on your mouth, never stopping fucking you. "Look at yourself." He slowly pushed his fingers in until it reached your throat and you gagged around them. He smiled as he made you drool down his hand.

He fucked you incessantly, the knot inside you growing with each movement. Your pussy was sore and he was abusing your cervix at this point. You swear you could pass out before making him cum, because your legs were giving up.

"Come here you little slut." He flipped you and picked you up, walking into the shower and turning it on. "Can't take my cock anymore?" Said as he pressed you against the wall and fucked you hard. You slightly shake your head, mouth agape. You didn't mean it, your body was moving on its own. "Too bad, princess. 'Gonna take what I give you." 

Moans escaped your mouth unintentionally as you felt your body get even weaker as you approached your high.

"Fuck, sir, 'm gonna cum." You cried out, throwing your head back. 

"What you called me?" He looked you in the eye and his lips were turning into a smirk. Obviously it came out involuntarily. You looked at him confused. "Say that again, baby, come on." He encouraged.

"Sir… I'm coming, I'm coming." You whined, his thumb was somehow stimulating your clit and you reached your orgasm, leaving his lower stomach and crotch covered in your juices. He didn't let you ride down your high, he was desperate to cum inside you again. "T-... much, Si." You cried lowly on his shoulder.

He didn't listen to you, but it didn't take much more until he was releasing his warm seeds inside of you, legs trembling, panting breath. 

He helped you to clean, well, he gave you a shower after you collapsed on his arms. He then carried you to your room and laid you down on your comfy bed, the one you needed since the day ended. 

The walk back to the guest bedroom was somehow exquisite. He fulfilled his dreams, and probably yours too, but he felt like he needed more. Your touch, sweet and delicate as he gently scrubbed you in the shower. The tender, soft kiss you left on his cheek when he carried you. It wasn't all just sex. He was desperate for affection and you were there to give it to him. All under the covers. Your dirty secret.

[strawberriemarswrites]

CHAPTER 10-A : PIPE DREAM

Chapter Summary: You confront Bartolomeo about everything he's done. Pairing: Bartolomeo x F!Reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only, NSFW Chapter; PiV sex, biting, a more submissive Barto, slight breeding kink) TW: References to past violence, stalking Ao3 Link: Chapter 10-A (3,903 words)

Bartolomeo was silent for a long time, staring between you and the shirt in your hand. Of course. Of all the things to forget about in the heat of the moment. Now you had it, and everything he ever wanted was going to come crashing down around him.

Fuck.

“Barto,” you pressed, “how long have you had my shirt?”

He leaned against the doorframe, avoiding eye contact. After a long moment he swallowed the lump in his throat and answered, “Few months.”

You abruptly stood from the bed, getting directly in front of him and forcing yourself into his line of sight. “It was you. This whole time. And you had me thinking it wasn’t.” Your eyes began to water. “What the fuck, Barto?! What else have you stolen?!”

He would have flinched, were he not distracted by the fact that you looked hotter when you were angry. The thought was enough to make him flush as he confessed, “A few things.”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands, once more catching a whiff of strawberries and vanilla on your stolen shirt. “My fucking perfume. What the hell did you do — steal that and put it back every time?”

“No! Just. Just once...” His eyes flicked to his dresser, where the new bottle was hidden in the top drawer. “Then... I bought my own.”

“Oh, well that makes it so much better.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t,” you huffed. “Just don’t. I need...”

You paused, biting your lip. What did you need? Time? To do what exactly — think about how the guy you’d been crushing on was stalking you like you feared? You should be calling someone about this, not hesitating!

Bartolomeo’s chest felt like it was about to burst. He’d been ignoring it, but on some level he’d known it was inevitable that if you got together, you would discover what he had done. He convinced himself he could make it okay, give you his perspective on it, but he never thought that the need to do that would come before you even had a chance to go through the honeymoon phase. Slowly, he reached out and put his hands on your shoulders, the slightest bit of relief easing the chest pain when you didn’t try to pull away.

“Sweetheart,” he said again, “I already told you... All that stuff about you bein’ good, and soft, how I’m none of that—”

“Barto,” you interrupted, running a frustrated hand through your hair, “you realize that nothing you could say about this is going to make it okay. You broke into my room. You stole my stuff. You followed me home!” You paused, then gasped, taking a step back. “Did you have something to do with Cavendish not showing?!”

He shrank back, letting go of you and once again avoiding eye contact. “I might’ve... busted his car a little. And his ribs.”

You took another step back, shaking your head before starting to pick your clothes up from the floor.

He began to panic. “Wait — what are you doing?”

“Putting on clothes,” you sighed. “I can’t keep having this conversation naked.”

You paced the floor of Bartolomeo’s living room, running a hand through your hair while he watched trepidatiously from the couch. He’d confessed extensively, further adding to his earlier list of admissions. Laying in your bed, watching you sleep, hunting down Cavendish — he even admitted that after the man from the bar roofied himself, he followed him out and stabbed his hand.

(You would never admit out loud that you were thrilled by the idea of Bartolomeo beating creeps to a bloody pulp like some unhinged vigilante.)

With a heavy sigh you stopped in front of him, your arms folded. “I’m not gonna tell anyone about what you did.”

Bartolomeo straightened up slightly. “Really?”

“But,” you continued, “you’re gonna give me my stuff back.”

He nodded, just relieved that you weren’t immediately ditching him. “You got it.”

“I don’t have the funds to move right now, so I’m still living across the hall for the foreseeable future.” You took a step closer. “If you ever break into my apartment again, I will call the cops.”

He nodded again, and you took it as a small victory. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you could make good on that threat. A tiny part of you felt guilty at the thought of having him arrested, but you couldn’t afford to let him see through you.

You let out another heavy sigh, your posture relaxing slightly. “What were you thinking, Barto? Why didn’t you say something from the start?”

Bartolomeo ran a hand through his hair, his face flushed. “I-I dunno... it’s like I said. You’re so good, and normally people who go around lookin’ and actin’ like you don’t talk to people like me. I ain’t ever really... fell for anyone before, and I couldn’t help myself from doin’ stuff that was wrong. Then when you said we were friends, I got scared that maybe you’d never see me the way I saw you.” He kept his gaze downward, the flush spreading down his neck and shoulders. “I started clingin’ to what I could just to feel close to ya.”

Your heart lurched at the confession, and you smothered the urge to let out a soft “aww”. That should not have been cute — how the hell did he manage to twist what he did into something that sounded so innocent?

You cleared your throat, holding your ground. “I don’t know that I can just forgive you for this. You know that, right?”

Bartolomeo seemed to shrink into himself. Yes, he’d known that was a possibility. Did he ever want to admit that? Absolutely not.

“We’re back to just neighbors,” you finally said. “I don’t care if we say ‘hi’ or whatever, but I’m not talking to you until I’m ready to be friends again. If I’m ready.” You hated that you were giving him hope, but you were kidding yourself if you thought you’d be able to keep yourself from peeking over the walls you were building.

He nodded in a way that betrayed his restrained eagerness. “You got it. Just neighbors.”

With another long look and one final sigh, you texted Robin for your keys.

The days passed by painfully slow. Routine made them bleed into weeks, and before you knew it, two months had gone by.

You occasionally caught Bartolomeo peeking out of his door whenever you got off the elevator. You could tolerate that.

He would hold the building door open for you whenever he happened (“happened”) to be there. You decided you could tolerate that, too.

When the landlord came around with suspicions about Luffy’s existence again, he was there, looming across the hall. And when you could no longer deny that yes, you had a cat, Bartolomeo’s presence kept the landlord from charging backpay. The moment the coast was clear, he quickly retreated, blushing all the way up to his ears.

Try as you might to resist the urge, you ended up leaving a bag of cookies in front of his door as thanks.

Shortly after, packages you ordered ended up at your door instead of the front desk. Sometimes there were flowers that were clearly picked from some poor soul’s window box. You’d wake up or come home to find a few dollars had been slipped under your door, with notes reading “subway”, “cat food”, and “drinks”.

You probably shouldn’t have tolerated that.

Bartolomeo eventually gained enough courage to greet you one morning as you were leaving for work. You gave him a small nod, and he blushed, quickly stepping back into his apartment. He took it as a sign that he could at least do that much, letting out a sheepish “hey” or “morning” whenever he saw you. Soon it grew into asking how you were, to which you didn’t answer with more than a shrug or a “fine”, despite wanting to answer with more. You found you had missed talking to him, but you were doing your best to stand firm.

Your resolve was tested further when he started having one-sided conversations with you. He’d tell you about his day, about how he heard Luffy running around, how Gambia was doing, almost like whatever came to mind he had to get out of his head just so he could spend more time talking to you. You kept your responses short, if you responded at all, though you struggled to hide your smile and stifle laughter.

You’d given him the inch. It was all he needed to pry his way back in.

The signs Bartolomeo was breaking in again slowly but surely returned. Rumpled bedsheets, haphazardly closed drawers, debris by the window. It made your stomach turn, but your chest fluttered. You shouldn’t have been so tolerant. It was only a matter of time, after all, and you should have kept to your word and put your foot down.

But you missed him. You found yourself lying awake longer at night, watching your window as you fell asleep. You would sit on your bed and look over the slightly untidied sheets and wonder why Bartolomeo didn’t just pull the pillows off and sit with them on the floor. Luffy’s treat bag wouldn’t be closed all the way and you were tempted to scold him for leaving it open, or for giving Luffy treats in the first place, instead of getting furious that he was in the apartment to start with.

It took some time, but you finally caught him.

You’d been curled up under your bedsheets, watching the window, when you saw a familiar silhouette take up his post on the fire escape. He had his back to the room, leaning his head back against the pane. Quietly, you crawled out of bed and across the floor, and tapped on the window.

Bartolomeo jumped up, ready to flee down the stairs, before you pushed the window open and grabbed the edge of his fur-lined vest, staring up into his fiery eyes.

“Stay.”

It had been two months since you’d said something first.

Bartolomeo blinked, then let you pull him into the bedroom. You took him by the wrists, gently guiding him to the bed before pushing him down onto it, crawling on top of him and pinning his hands down to either side of his head. He gave in with surprising ease, a mixture of shock and anticipation on his face as you started running your hands up and down his forearms.

“What were you going to do out there?” you asked, your voice low.

He swallowed, his eyes flicking back and forth as he struggled to focus on yours. “I was... going to watch you sleep.”

You couldn’t help the soft “tch” that left your lips. “Course you were. Just watching, right?”

He nodded frantically, his face turning redder by the second. “Yeah, just watching. I swear.”

Your hands drifted lower, ghosting his vest’s fur lining. “You weren’t planning on breaking in like you have been? After I’ve already told you to stop?”

All the color that had crept into his face immediately drained. He shook his head, “I wasn’t — I just — ...I really tried —”

“Barto?”

He swallowed. “Yeah?”

You put your hands on either side of his face, lifting it to meet yours. “Shut up.”

His eyes went wide before he nodded.

You released his head, letting it drop back down on the pillow with a satisfying whumpf. You returned to letting your hands wander downward, eventually reaching the hem of his shirt. “I should be calling the cops on you and kicking your ass right now. You know that, right?”

You felt his chest heave. “Why aren’t you?”

You shrugged, rolling his shirt up. “I’m still debating.”

A dusting of green hair was exposed at his waist line. As you traced a finger over it, Bartolomeo said, “What do I gotta do to convince you not to?”

Your eyes snapped to his. “Shut up and let me fuck you.”

Color returned to his face with a vengeance. Your hands slid lower, ghosting your fingers along the waistband of his ratty jeans before undoing them. When you tugged at them, he lifted his hips, but you didn’t pull them off all the way, stopping when they were just below the curve of his ass. You then brushed your hand over the obvious bulge in his boxers.

It was at that moment, with how easily he was complying, that you realized how much power you really had over Bartolomeo. He might’ve been the one stalking you and violently hurting people to keep them away, but you could probably step on him and he’d thank you. You could pull his hair, punch him in the gut, probably even kick him where it’d really, really hurt, and he’d still come crawling after you. It might even encourage him.

Maybe he was just as masochistic as you were, for letting him get away with his antics.

You broke the silence with a harsh, “You’re a real freak, you know that?”

Bartolomeo only whimpered in response.

Power thrummed under your fingers as you started fondling him through his boxers. “You start pining after a girl, and your first instinct is to start stalking her.” You gave him a light squeeze, barely even a twitch of your muscles, and his breath hitched. “How much did it hurt not knowing if I returned your feelings?”

He only whimpered again, his body starting to shiver under your touch.

You squeezed a little harder. “Answer me, Barto.”

“Badly,” he choked out, as if he’d been holding his breath from the moment you started touching him.

You hummed, rubbing him a little harder. “How long do you think you could have kept it up?”

He swallowed, trying to look anywhere but your eyes. “I-I dunno.”

Your grip on him tightened and he grunted, his hips bucking. You continued, “You ever jerk off into my shirt? The one you stole?”

Bartolomeo frantically shook his head. “No, not — not really — I mean —”

It was then that he finally met your gaze, and he froze. Was this a trap? He didn’t want to answer, but something about the look in your eyes dissuaded him from keeping the truth to himself. 

“I smelled it while jackin’ off.”

You nodded, loosening your hold. “You ever think of me?”

He moaned, rolling his eyes back. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

“You ever think about stealing my panties?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Would you have jerked off with those?”

“...yeah.”

You abruptly let go of his cock. The high-pitched groan that came from Bartolomeo made you shudder as you said, “What if I tried to go on another date? What would you have done to them?”

His eyes widened. “Wha—”

“You heard me,” you cut him off. “Would you have tracked them down and hurt them, too?”

After a moment of struggling to find his words, he finally said, “Yes.”

You put your hand back over his groin, lightly tracing a finger along the concealed length. “That guy from the train. What would you have done if he’d managed to hurt me?”

He clenched his fists around the bedsheets. “Y-you don’t really wanna know that.”

“I do,” you said, now tugging his cock free from his boxers and ghosting your fingers over the head, leaking with precum. “I want you to confess to all the depraved shit you’ve been thinking since you met me. I want to know how far you would’ve gone before you couldn’t take it anymore.”

Bartolomeo stared up at you for a long moment, his heart pounding. This had to be a dream. There was no way you were indulging him like this for real. On top of him, making demands, tormenting him like this. He’d hit his head on one of the ladder rungs and this was an unconscious fantasy. That was the only explanation for the twisted web of paradise and damnation he was currently caught in.

Still, this fantasy version of you was glowering down at him, one hand teasing his cock and starting to pull away. He couldn’t stop himself from grabbing your wrist to keep you there, and you flinched, but otherwise kept your steely gaze on him.

The message was clear. He had to answer, or you’d stop.

And Bartolomeo really didn’t want this dream to end.

“That shitstain would’ve been dead,” he growled. “Nobody hurts what’s mine.”

You smirked and swatted his hand away, returning yours to the head of his cock. “Good answer.”

You resumed with languidly stroking him, watching as his eyes rolled back and he struggled to keep them open. For the most part you kept your pace even, occasionally spitting on him to keep him sufficiently lubricated. He let out a long, obscene groan, throwing an arm over his eyes, whimpering your name. “Please...”

A shiver shot through you. After everything he put you through, knowing the violence he was capable of — hearing him start to crumble beneath you was immensely satisfying. “Please what?”

“Stop teasin’,” he groaned, his cock twitching in your hand. “I need you... so bad...”

“You need me, huh?” You slowed down, making him whine. “Beg for me, then.”

Bartolomeo’s eyes snapped back to meet your gaze, his pupils dilating until his irises were thin amber rings. His mouth went dry as he found himself unable to do anything except stare at you looming over him. After an eternity had passed, and he was positive he heard you correctly, he propped himself up on his elbows. 

With flushed cheeks and a look that made you think he might cry, he said, “Please, sweetheart. I’ll do anything.”

You stopped, tilting your head. “Anything?”

He nodded, gaze flicking back and forth as he tried to focus on yours, his tongue darting out between his teeth.

You gently pushed him back into laying down, finally shimmying out of your shorts and underwear. You held yourself over his cock, keeping one hand on him to guide him inside, but not yet. 

“Beg.”

His voice strained, “Please, please, please— I need you. I need to be inside you—”

“Just inside me?”

“Around you, with you, part of you —” his hands started gripping your waist to try and pull you down onto him. “I’ll be your slave if you ask me, just please—”

You gave in, spearing yourself on his cock and relishing in the sudden guttural moan it elicited from him. You slowly sank down onto his length, unable to stop the whine once you felt like it wouldn’t go any further. You felt his nails dig into your skin — you wouldn’t be surprised if his grip left bruises to find in the morning.

“Ohh, fuck,” he groaned. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“Shut up,” you snapped, “and start fucking me.”

Bartolomeo bit his lip and obeyed, lifting you by the waist to slide himself out, then pulling you back down onto his shaft. You whined again as he stopped just shy of pushing himself entirely inside you, savoring being pushed to your very limit. He repeated the motion, moving you with such ease it had you reeling for a moment. You steadied yourself by putting your hands on his chest, your fingers slipping into the fur lining of his vest. Another thrust and you weren’t able to stifle your moans, stuttering with each push inside you.

“My girl,” he growled, lifting his hips as he pulled you down. “Mine.”

A giggle escaped you in between moans. He could claim that all he wanted, but all things considered, it was you who had him wrapped around your finger. Current physical positions notwithstanding.

Heat began coiling in your core, and your hips started moving of their own accord, rolling in sync with every push and pull of his hands. Bartolomeo let go of one side to bring his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. His eyes were blown so wide you couldn’t see the amber anymore, leaving behind a mixture of lust and adoration in their depths. He started moving you faster, the hand on your cheek moving into your hair and pulling you closer down to him. Your chest now within range, he started placing kisses on your shoulders and between the valley of your breasts. He circled his tongue around each nipple before latching onto one, rolling the sensitive bud between his sharp teeth. You let out a keening moan, your hands tightening into fists in the synthetic fur as you struggled to keep pace with him.

“Mine,” he growled again around your breast, his teeth threatening to pierce flesh as he frantically increased his pace.

You groaned, sitting up and pulling free of his bite, moving your hands to either side of his face. “That’s it, Barto. So good for me.”

Bartolomeo’s pace faltered for just a moment. “Y-yeah?”

You nodded, kissing his forehead. “Good boy.”

The responding guttural groan sent a shudder down your spine, and he pushed himself into an upright position, making you grind yourself along his length as he continued to thrust up into you.

You cussed harshly, allowing him to take over completely and fuck up into you like his own personal fleshlight. You latched onto his response, encouraging him further. “That’s it, Barto. Be a good boy and cum for me.”

He choked, eyes wide. “O-on you? Like this?”

You shook your head, running one thumb along his lip. “In me.”

“R-really—?”

“What?” you panted, sticking your thumb in his mouth and pulling at the corner, revealing more of his sharp fangs. “Don’t act like you’ve never thought of breeding me, fucking stalker.”

He moaned, his tongue chasing after your thumb as you removed it from his mouth. He hadn’t thought of it, not until the moment you said it. His desperation to please you however had him all too willing to accept the thought as his own, and he flipped both of you over, throwing your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half beneath him. 

You screamed at the now impossible speed he moved, your hands tangling in his hair as the knot building in your loins started unraveling. You cried out his name over and over, barely aware of him growling out yours in your ear until he slammed into you one final time, biting down on your shoulder to keep himself from crying out.

You both came crashing down from your ecstacy, tangled up in one another, panting and sweating and reeling from the whole ordeal. Eventually, and with no small amount of hesitation, Bartolomeo pulled himself out, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could as he lay himself beside you. As you slowly caught your breath, you curled into his embrace, allowing him to almost envelope you as the afterglow began to settle.

A moment passed in silence, before Bartolomeo muttered into your hair, “I love you. I don’t ever wanna let you go."

“...I love you, too,” you finally responded. Before adding, “Stop feeding Luffy treats.”

Bartolomeo thought his heart would burst from his chest, and he proceeded to cuddle you even closer. You let out a deep breath through your nose. You really shouldn’t have encouraged him, and you really shouldn’t have indulged yourself.

That didn’t stop you from smiling as you fell asleep in his arms.

[ribbeoms]

「 azure dreams , midnight tales 」

-> featuring, barista!soobin x gn!student!reader

-> w/c ; 1.9k || no warnings

sypnosis : 「 you, an insomniac who finds solace in your late-night conversations with soobin, the barista at a 24-hour cafe. over time, you realizes that soobin’s soft voice and calming presence feel like a dream come true, even during your sleepless nights. but as the midnight talks deepen, so do your feelings, leaving you wondering if this connection is too perfect to last past sunrise. 」

part of the blue-kissed moments masterlist ! pls feel free to check the other fics ^^

[m.list]

a/n : my first soobin fic !! happy birthday my angel

university is the worst.

no, scratch that. being a broke university student is the worse. juggling day-to-day expenses alongside payments of school materials and dorm rent, and the additional stress of the classes and exams? nothing could've prepared you for how grueling the first semester would be. with a sigh, you stumble into a cafe, the bells ringing overhead as your eyes tried to adjust to the warm lights radiated by the decorations lining the homely appearance of the cafe. thank god for 24 hour cafes, you can finally get a (un)healthy dose of caffeine at midnight to fuel your night owl study sessions.

there was only one other person in the small cafe. the barista, head turning up from his phone to glance upon the newcomer into the cafe. he flashed a warm smile as his lithe hands placed his phone down. he turns to greet you, his tussled hair framing his eyes perfectly with a warm, boyfriend look to him.

"welcome to azure dreams cafe. you look awfully tired, what drink can i get you?" the honeyed tone of the barista's voice warms you, it's been so long since anybody has treated you with the bare bones of respect. "sorry for coming in so late.. are americanos available? i just need the energy." you responded, running your hand through your hair as the other clutches your book bag. "it's no problem at all. i understand how you feel, so just take a seat there. feel free to listen to music or take a nap, whatever you need." he hummed, before turning away further into the cafe, where a soft hum of machinery slowly filled the quiet atmosphere.

you caught a glimpse of his nametag ─ choi soobin.

₊˚ʚ

"oh, you're back."

soobin tilted his head, lips pursed as he studies your hunched frame. "sorry, soobin. you keep having to make americanos at midnight for me." you placed your bag down at the cafe lounge chair, easily sliding into the booth. it's been a week of visiting this cafe, a week of talking to the barista, a week of receiving endless amounts of help and feedback on your work. soobin, your eternal saviour, your light at the end of the tunnel, your guardian angel. multiple times has he lent a helping hand to you, allowing you to swiftly complete your work and improving on the essays and projects that you've been pulling all nighters (and your hair) for.

"why're you so willing to help me?" the question slipped out, your eyes boring into soobin's back as he closely monitors the coffee beans. "well," he mused, a small smile playing on his lips. "everyone deserves a little help sometimes. even if they're extremely sleep deprived. i see .. myself in you, i guess." soobin shoved his hands into his apron pockets, leaning against the cover, back still facing you. you leaned your head against the table, mulling over his words. he.. sees himself in you? what does that mean? your thoughts echoed through your head, ricocheting off each other.

"hey, stop thinking about it so much," soobin suddenly appeared, placing your americano before you. he leaned forward, upper body against your table. "i know that university work's tough, but i promise you, you'll always find solace here, alright? i'll be here every night. i know you're worried about many things, but my presence will not be one of them." soobin gently carresses your fingers, before casting you a soft smile. "i promise you."

butterflies erupted in your stomach, as you feel your face grow hotter. "t..thank you.." you managed to stutter out, looking down at your unfinished work, a little flustered from the sudden burst of affection from the midnight barista. you grabbed the coffee cup, before collecting yourself. was that.. was that a confession..?

₊˚ʚ

"y'know, i admire your consistency." soobin suddenly speaks, thus dragging your attention onto him. your eyebrows furrowed, confused. "consistency? like.. my school work? i haven't showed you my results before though.." you mumbled out, brain still trying to catch up on the horrendously low number of hours of sleep you managed to catch that week. soobin giggled, looking at you with a .. weird emotion in his eyes. "no, silly. your consistency in managing to come here every midnight. it's been three weeks, and you've never missed a day." you pursed your lips, before realisation dawned on you ─ has it really been three weeks? you flashed a small embarrassed smile, eyes turning back to your computer.

soobin's memory is immaculate. remembering the exact preferences you had for decoration suggestions you sometimes gave, and memorising the exact timing on how long you loved for the coffee beans to roast. his knowledge is expanse too, almost as if he dabbled in everything before. what soobin is oblivious to, however, is the fact that on your phone, you have a little alarm to wake you up everyday to head to the cafe. so no matter what, you were determined to enter the cafe at twelve midnight. what was the reason behind this? honestly, you're not sure yourself (yet). all you know is that you're dead-set in seeing soobin's smile everyday.

suddenly, a ringtone rang out. "oh, excuse me." soobin got up from the sofa across you, before heading into the back of the cafe to handle the call. "huh? a phone call at 1am? especially from dialing the cafe number?" your fingers twirled with your pen, neck straining as you tried your best to hear the phone call. unfortunately, only bits and pieces of information entered your ears. "close down.... rent......two days."

your heart sank. soobin's lanky figure emerged from the room, face clearly distressed. when his eyes landed on you, he seemed to get even more anxious, fingers twiddling with the hem of his shirt, akin to a child feeling extremly guilty. he opened his mouth as if to say something, before closing it again. you patted the seat next to you, a silent invitation. a reassurance.

"so... the cafe is in a bit of a financial crisis as of right now.." soobin looked down at the table, eyes not daring to meet yours. he continued, " 'cause of lack of customers, and the expenses of the ingredients and rent... the owner said that it would be best to shut this cafe down for good." soobin sighed, broad shoulders sinking into his shirt, making it look too big on soobin. you didn't like that. you didn't like your soobin looking so small and fragile.

"all good things must come to an end one day," you gave a small smile, your palm unfolding over soobin's closed fist. "i don't want our nights to end." a small confession muttered from his lips. "i don't want our nights to end too, soobin. this .. all this means so much to me. so, so much." you looked away, gazing at the twinkling stars in the distance. your hand feels heavy against soobin's, but your heart weighs heavier. the truth is, having these nights end scare you to no end. "but.. we'll figure a way out, right? like we always have." you offered a small semblance of hope, an open question hanging.

empty confessions fill the air. a choked sob escapes soobin. your heart aches as you pull him towards your shoulder, allowing for a place of comfort, no matter how small. a place of solace for him, showing that there was never any doubt for your presence in his life as well. you mirror his sentiments as you pulled him against you tighter, hands rubbing his forearm as he cries into your shoulder.

a warm tear glided down your cheek.

₊˚ʚ

you huffed, melachonly settling uncomfortably into your stomach. the bells above your head chimed one last time, as you enter the cafe. your sneakers step onto the furnished hardwood, as the warm lights embrace you. there, behind the counter, soobin stood. just like that night three weeks ago, he was there. always, with a cup of americano ready. "i never took you to the rooftop before, right?" you shook your head, your curiosity piqued at the mention of the roof. was it even allowed? soobin snapped you out of your thoughts, waving a hand in front of you.

"you're not scared of heights, are you..?" soobin question, his grasp on your wrist loosening as he led you up the staircase. "a little late for that, no?" you giggled, trailing closely behind soobin. "oh.. true.." he mumbled, blinking a bit. he chuckled, hand reaching for the doorknob towards the roof. "i like to come up here after my shifts. it.. relaxes the mind, y'know? makes it feel like-" "it's all going to be alright." you completed his sentence, your eyes gazing into his own. "yeah.. exactly." he huffed, letting a small laugh out.

once both of you are settled onto the roof, a thick silence envelops the air. you leaned your head onto soobin's shoulder, huddling closer towards him, as if this is your last chance to ever see him. he wrapped his arm around you, head turned up towards the two twinkling stars in the sky. "i never told you this, but.. i used to hate working the midnight shift." soobin starts off, hesistant in continuing. you faced him, urging him to finish his train of thought. "it wasn't a very nice time to work, haha.. i mean, midnight isn't usually the time when people would come into a cafe, so most days were dull." you hummed, leaning further into him.

"until you started visiting." you laughed, "you're only saying that to make me happy." "no no, i'm serious!" soobin frantically waved his hand, heart-shaped lips forming a pout. "i mean it, really. you've.. changed my life in more ways than i expected. i thought you were just going to be a one-time customer, but you kept visiting. kept accompanying me." he barely whispers out the last part, his breath fanning into the cold air. "it's sweet. i look forward to it everyday." a small red tint appears on soobin's ears, as he looks down in embarrassment.

you tightened your grip around his arm, giggling in silence. "i have a confession too. i set an alarm on my phone, reminding me everyday to walk over to your cafe at midnight. that's what explains my consistency, it's because i want to see you. everyday." your voice becomes smaller as you continued. "i guess what i'm saying is that.. i like you." you confessed, burying your face into his arm.

soobin lifted your face, before leaning in, pressing his lips onto yours. you swear you could feel fireworks explode as your heart pumps in such a familiar rhythm that you can't help the nostalgic feeling that settles in your chest. "soo-bin", it pumps, and it keeps on pumping, the blood flowing through your body a reminder of how your love for him flows through you, almost naturally. you closed your eyes, pressing deeper into the kiss.

soobin pulled away, chest heaving. expectant eyes gaze upon you, his hair messed up, much like the day you two met. "i guess midnights will always belong to us." he said breathlessly.

"always."

₊˚ʚ

"you'll really be working here, right?" soobin asked for what seemed like the sixtieth time today. "yes, binnie. as long as you’re here." he hummed in sastifaction at your reply, cuddling further into your chest.

“wait, angel.” you softly nudged him away, smoothening your clothes over as you put on your customary smile. “welcome to azure dreams, what can i get you?” your fingers hovered over the display, but something else is hovering behind you as well. soobin gazes at you from behind, pouting as you politely handle the customer. turns out, the only reason why azure dreams “fell out of business” is because soobin, your dearest, cutest boyfriend forgot to flip the “open/close” sign every time he opened the cafe. the only reason why you managed to meet him two months ago was because you were too tired to even notice the sign..

“i didn’t know you were so good at handling other people but suddenly able to push your boyfriend away. it’s like you don’t care about me at all.. am i not the one who secured you a good schedule and a job? you just threw me to one side like i mean nothing. and to think you confessed to sweetly on that very rooftop! so this is how younger people treat their elders nowadays-” soobin keeps on talking in the back of the kitchen, lips moving at a speed you can’t even read. you lunged forward, catching his lips in a kiss. a deep blush rose to soobin’s face, eyes widening as his hands flutter about as he can’t even seem to find a proper place to put it. on the counter or on your waist?! what if his colleagues walk in..! before he can even finish contemplating, you pull yourself away from him. “you talk a lot, baby.” you teased, before bouncing away to actually do your job.

soobin touched his lips, eyes trailing your figure as you worked. god, he’s so whipped.

₊˚ʚ 🌌 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ 🌀 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ❄️ ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ 🌫 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ

@studiogyu @daddldee

[monzamash]

it's impossible to win — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 2.5k summary – when you buy concert tickets with your ex but break up a couple of months before the gig, do you go or cut your losses? rating – mature (sexual references, coarse language) a/n – this was inspired by a lovely ask i received during my 2k celebration and based around the band alexisonfire x masterlist

just sent you the AOF tickets.

i told you to keep yours. you love them as much as i do. read

The glow of your phone was too bright, too harsh and so was the reality you didn’t want to face any time soon. You couldn’t keep them. How could you when the reputation of being the ‘notorious ex girlfriend of Daniel Ricciardo’ – man of the people, loved by millions shadowed you everywhere you went?

He was loved more than most and certainly more than you.

She was never good enough anyway; a parasite, they said when the news broke on the petty gossip pages, exposing that you and Daniel were no longer together, itemising every little detail of your downfall for the world to see. Those years of memories, years of loving privately disappeared and in its place were painful ones to heal. They were the best years of your life, or so you thought – blissfully unaware of the distance slowly growing between you and the man you loved more than most – but it wasn’t enough.

You weren't enough to fight for and especially not enough to love more than driving around a racetrack eight months out of the year. He was never there, out of sight and out of mind, leaving you battling for his attention. You weren’t cut out for it, simply put by him while on the other side of the world. It started as a late night phone call to ease the ache in your chest and to keep him close but he couldn’t have been further away. Physically and emotionally. Drifting.

“Babe, this is what you signed up for.”

“No, it’s what I tolerate – it’s what I sacrifice to love you.”

You broke down, knowing this was the end of your relationship and the only thing you could genuinely put your name to. You had lost yourself completely to his life, no longer something you could call your own. Abandoned dreams and forsaken friendships all so you could be there for him; drawn in to his world, naively consumed by his safety and the promise of a life lived together, not divided by oceans – lost to the fishes.

That was until you re-emerged from the lavish hotels and the private planes, sans Daniel – sans your soulmate. The day you ended that phone call, you knew he would be the hardest one to let go of; eternally the one that got away and the one relationship you would have to tell future boyfriends about. And they would probably gasp and ask, not the formula one driver? and you would have to nod and quash their insecurities because everyone loved Daniel.

But nobody loved him more than you do – did. Not even close.

“He said you should use the ticket and honestly, I don’t even think he’ll show up. He hasn’t come to anything we’ve organised since you two broke up – he’s not the kid we knew back in high school anymore… That’s why you dumped his arse, right?”

Right, but you couldn’t say that.

“I didn’t dump him. I just…” Just told him that he’s wasted the best years of my life chasing him around the world.

“… Said that if he couldn’t be there when I needed him or spent more than two seconds a year with me then I couldn’t do it anymore. And that’s it.” Well, not exactly.

“Sounds like a dumping to me and rightfully so. Look, I love Danny but he’s hard to be friends with, let alone pretending to be in domestic bliss with…”

Yes, but you respected Daniel too much to admit that. Hannah was his friend too, all of them were. You were kids all grown up, now adults wading their way through the treacherous seas of the real world, pretending like they had it all figured out. Ungracefully and riddled with anxiety but finally immune to bullshit and aware of what to expect out of an adult relationship.

The standards were higher now than when you were young and in love. Daniel was your childhood best friend, after all. Or more accurately, the boy you met on the first day of high school, all crooked teeth and bundles of frizzy brown curls. You were acne-ridden and shy, the weirdo girl, they called you until you became friends with Danny. He knew everyone and was loved by everyone – that was the one trait that had followed him through life.

He was the class clown and a cute distraction from the torture of high school but you weren’t the only one who thought so. Lunchtime quickly became your favourite part of every day because you got to sit beside him and eat your Vegemite sandwich, knowing all the other girls in your year seethed seeing you with him. 'That weird mole and Riccardo being friends doesn’t make sense' they’d whisper thinking you couldn’t hear them. But you could and they were right about one thing – you were only friends.

The slightest scent of a spring breeze reminded you of the hours you spent sat under the shady gum trees, watching him playing footy with the other boys while you fiddled with your walk-man and scratched the discs beyond repair as you changed them out, battling with the Sony aux chord that was hanging on for dear life by a slither of duct tape. You were fifteen when Daniel handed you a burnt CD with a hand-drawn skull in the shape of a heart and the letters AOF written in bold black sharpie, smudged from his impatience.

“What’s this?” You asked with squinted eyes, looking up at him and the blistering sun.

“The best fucking album you’ll ever hear.”

He told you years later that he was so proud of himself, thrilled that he was showing you new music. His competitive streak wasn’t exclusive to the karting track – no, it snuck its way into everything he did, specifically when it came to album recommendations and especially with you.

“It’s called Watch Out by Alexisonfire… you know, that punk band I said you would love. Give it a try. I promise it’s better than that fuckin’ Offspring album you won’t stop listenin’ to.”

“Well even if I do like it, I wont tell you now dickhead.”

But he was right. So infuriatingly right. You loved it, maybe because you loved him. He was your best friend, your closest confidante, your twin flame – all cheesy grin and beautiful brown eyes. Lips so full that whenever he spoke, you couldn’t look away. Dangerously entranced by your best friend. A label that haunted you every time it slipped from his tongue and one you desperately wanted to rip off like a band-aid.

You thought those feelings would be the kind of ones you'd painfully bury and take to your grave, heartbreakingly unrequited – until you found a hand-written note crumpled up at the bottom of the ripped CD sleeve. The blotchy blue pen and creases in the lined paper made it hard for you to read his distinctive, yet messy boyish cursive.

song 4 – side walk when she walks (made me think of you)

The sound of frantic clicking bounced off your lilac coloured walls as you skipped to track four; a spinning screech filled the anticipated silence before the sound of a melodic guitar filtered through the muffled headset.

Dressed to kill, you look so right I am drunk with lust tonight Your wounds are opening wide And they might be just my size

Warmth rushed to your chest, your neck and up to your cheeks when you realised what it all meant. And it wasn’t the last time Daniel made your body feel like it was on fire, sitting on his messy bedroom floor and kissing until you couldn’t breathe, the soft sounds of your new favourite band playing on his stereo – heart beating so fast you could’ve died, happily in his arms.

But you weren’t horny teenagers anymore and that memory was blurrier now than it had ever been. It had been muddied with all the sad ones, the fights and the tears – the irreversible emotional damage that you had done to each other. You weren’t a saint, god knows and you took full responsibility for your part and so did Daniel. But that was where it ended – in a seemingly amicable split.

No love lost, only misplaced for a while.

It felt like all eyes were watching you as you walked into the small club, ears already tingling with the reverberation bouncing off the blackened walls – if only they could talk. Musky bodies and the hint of cigarettes filled the air while your combat boots stuck to the floor with every step you took into the lion’s den, making your path to closure hard fought. Maybe it was a sign to turn back; anything could’ve convinced you to swing by the exit on your left until you saw him.

He was dressed head to toe in black with a cap securely pulled over his eyes, hiding away from the curious ones. In any other crowd it would’ve been a piss-poor disguise, so obviously him but he blended in with the dark walls and the growing crowd, all wearing the unofficial uniform of an elder emo – baggy sweater, ripped skinny jeans and torn up Vans. And you were no different.

"You made it!!", a friend greeted, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug while you took in the circling faces. There were a few you never thought you would see again, people who were only your friend by proxy and ones he’d picked up along the way. And it was clear by the way everyone greeted you that he hadn’t dragged your name through the mud, maybe he kept the details of the break up quiet like you.

But the reality for Daniel was that he was too broken to even process what had happened. He came home to an empty apartment after a double-header with no way to contact you, to make things right. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the couple of months you’d been apart was enough either. And he was right. The sharp pain in his chest and the way his hands shook when he saw you confirmed it. He was fucked.

“Fuck,” Daniel groaned and turned to his mate, “What am I doing here, man…” 

All he could do was let out a soft laugh and pat his friend on the shoulder, “You’re an idiot.”

Daniel readjusted his cap and let out a strangled, “I know.”

You promised your friend that you’d be fine, like water off a ducks back. All the side glances and murmurs meant nothing to you anymore, the insecurity you had now was nothing compared to when you were actually dating Daniel. Consumed in his bubble, unable to escape the crushing scrutiny. Another wag bites the dust, they said, gone with no explanation other than your obvious absence in the paddock.

It didn’t matter anymore; nothing could hurt more than losing him.

But you still felt it, bubbling away in the pit of your stomach. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night, especially when you thought it would last forever. Nostalgia won the battle against the wound in your chest for a moment, still festering without treatment – knowing the only person who could heal it was miles away emotionally but was now in your line of vision. Seeing him in the flesh hurt more than you’d anticipated, more than you could’ve ever imagined. You still loved him, after everything.

The bubbles of excitement quickly dissipated and twisted into knots when you thought about what you had lost – a wave of anxiety washed over, churning away at any ounce of courage you’d mustered to even turn up to this stupid fucking show. You were cursing yourself, cursing your friend who had convinced you that he probably wouldn’t even turn up and that the odds were in your favour. She was so, so wrong.

“Ignore him and come dance.”

She was in damage control, dragging you away from the small gathering of friends and Daniel, who couldn’t tear his eyes away. His warm stare burned holes through your leather jacket as he watched you walk off into the crowd – and away from him again. It was becoming a habit of yours that he loathed. The house lights felt like a spotlight on your bruised ego but you pushed through the warm bodies, putting as much distance as you could between you and your past. The support band sounded great, mostly because it drowned out the soul-crushing thoughts swirling in your mind and brought you some much needed reprieve from your pity party.

You didn’t feel like yourself at all – you were the shell of the woman you used to be and you certainly weren’t the woman you wanted to show up as either. Strong, independent, single and thriving – you were none of those things, entirely the opposite in every way, so you had to dig deep and fake it. And you were a great actor but not tonight.

Not when you felt a gentle poke to your bicep. The lights rotating and strobing above made it impossible to see who was standing beside you, hand offering an icy bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime. It nearly slipped from your shaky fingers when you grasped it, whispering a soft thank you as the house lights went down and the swell of the surging crowd rumbled under foot.

“I wanted to have a chat but…” Daniel pointed to the stage, yelling over the drummer that had taken his rightful place behind his kit.

“Maybe later?” And you nodded yes, sending him a reassuring smile as the band began to play.

You could be diplomatic and hear him out – you owed yourself that at least and deserved closure from all the unanswered questions.

Daniel kept his distance, knowing he was in the wrong and that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life. And it wasn’t long until his heart stalled in his chest when he heard that painfully recognisable guitar riff filter through the thick air, the one he couldn’t listen to without thinking of you and he could see the way your eyes glazed with tears when you heard it; the opening chords to the song he had dedicated to you all those years ago on that stupid burnt cd.

Maybe you missed him too.

“This ones called side walk when she walks.”

You reached down, without even looking and grasped his hand that was hanging loosely between your stiff bodies. Daniel interlocked his shaking fingers with yours and squeezed them as your head dropped to his shoulder, resting there while you both swayed to the music. You felt safe for the first time in months, comforted by his presence.

Of course you missed him. He was your person.

And this was your band; the band you shared together for over half your lives, their songs played while you fell in love with one another. They were the band you lost your virginity to, humming softly in the background and wishing that feeling would last forever. You remembered blasting ‘to a friend’ in the car on the way to your graduation and Daniel nearly getting pulled over by the cops, laughing until your sides hurt. And they were the band you would always save for your road trips along the coast, both there in Los Angeles and back home.

These were the songs that soundtracked your life with Daniel.

They were your band – and they’d brought you back together.

a//n – this was wildly self indulgent so if you hated it, let me know lol but also lmk if you liked it because i loved writing it x masterlist | askbox