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solxamber · 2 days ago

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And I Pick...

In which you choose the club that caught your eye

Part 1

After much contemplation you've finally decided to pick the:

Basketball Club

The basketball court was quiet for all of two seconds after you announced your decision.

Then Ace exploded.

"HA! I knew you’d pick us! I called it!" He was practically doing laps around the court, pointing at nothing in particular. "Ace Trappola: the ultimate recruiter, the club MVP, and now the guy who brought you on board! This is the best day of my life!"

"Eh, it’s about time," Floyd drawled, stretching lazily. "Took ya long enough to figure out where the fun is." His sharp-toothed grin widened. "Now we can play my version of full-contact basketball. Hehehe."

"Absolutely not," Jamil cut in, but Floyd wasn’t listening.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you’d been lifelong teammates. "If you survive the first practice, you’ll survive all the practices. Probably."

Ace jogged back over, breathless but triumphant. "I told you we’re the best club! No boring rules, no endless laps like in Deuce's lame track team, and best of all—" He struck a dramatic pose, arms wide. "You get to hang out with me every day!"

"Please don’t make them quit on the first week," Jamil muttered, giving you a look that seemed to say, Are you sure about this?

"Quit? Nahhh!" Ace grinned. "They’re gonna thrive here. I’ll even teach them my signature moves—like my no-look, backwards, mid-air layup."

"You can’t even do that," Jamil said flatly.

"Not yet," Ace shot back. "But it’s the thought that counts."

Floyd leaned in closer, his grin somehow growing wider. "You better keep up, shrimpy. Otherwise, I might have to… spice things up a little."

"Spice things up?" you echoed, immediately suspicious.

"He means doing things like replacing the basketballs with watermelons," Jamil deadpanned.

Ace snorted. "Or throwing the ball at the hoop so hard it breaks the backboard. Oh wait, that actually happened. Twice."

"It was fun," Floyd said, completely unrepentant.

Jamil sighed like a man who’d aged a decade in the last five minutes. But then, to your surprise, he turned to you and offered a small, genuine smile. "Still… I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to the team."

The words were simple, but coming from Jamil, they felt like a warm endorsement.

Ace clapped his hands together, clearly ready to move things along. "Alright, enough talking! Let’s get you on the court and see what you’ve got!"

"Or we could start slow," Jamil suggested, but Ace was already dragging you toward the center of the court, Floyd trailing behind with a basketball under one arm.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, tossing the ball up and catching it effortlessly. "If ya mess up, we’ll just laugh at ya a little. No big deal~."

"No one’s laughing at anyone," Jamil said firmly, already pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ace threw an arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Ignore him. We’re gonna have a blast! First practice starts now!"

You weren’t sure what you’d gotten yourself into, but judging by their enthusiasm (and Floyd’s maniacal laughter), you were in for one chaotic ride.

Track and Field Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the track and field club, Deuce’s face lit up like someone had just told him he passed his midterms.

“You’re… really joining?” he asked, like he needed double confirmation. When you nodded, his grin widened, the kind that made him look both relieved and excited. “That’s awesome! Uh—welcome to the team! Seriously, it’s great to have you.” His usual earnestness shone through, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m still kind of learning the ropes, but we can figure things out together. It’s gonna be great!”

Jack, standing beside him, gave a firm nod of approval. “Good call. Track and field’s a solid choice. You’ll fit right in.” His tail wagged just enough to betray how happy he was, even if his tone stayed calm.

"Yeah!" Deuce agreed. “And, uh, don’t worry about keeping up or anything. It’s all about improving at your own pace. Right, Jack?”

“Sure,” Jack replied, glancing at you. Then he added, almost casually, “We’ll work on your stamina. You’re gonna need it.”

It took you a second to catch the faint glint in his eye, and then you remembered—oh no, the fridge comment. Jack had been disturbed ever since.

Deuce, oblivious to the subtext, chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s great at that stuff! He’s got this crazy endurance. Like, he can run forever. I’m still working on it, but, uh, you’re in good hands!”

Jack’s tail swished again. “Just be ready to push yourself. But don’t worry—we’ve got your back.”

“Exactly!” Deuce said, his fists clenching like he was ready to run a marathon right there. “This is gonna be awesome. I mean, not that it wasn’t already great, but now it’s even better. Right, Jack?”

Jack gave a small, satisfied smile. “Right.”

As they led you toward the field, you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d just signed up for. One thing was certain, though—Jack’s still thinking about that fridge, and he will make sure it’s not an issue anymore.

Board Game Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the board game club, Azul adjusted his glasses, looking smugly pleased with himself, like he'd just negotiated the deal of the century.

"An excellent decision," he said, his voice as smooth as the perfectly polished board games stacked behind him. "With your addition to our club, I foresee a new golden age of strategic victories."

Idia, sitting half-hidden behind a pile of unopened game boxes, choked on his energy drink. "W-Wait, you’re serious? They actually chose us?" His hair flared a brilliant shade of pink for a moment before he pulled his hoodie tighter around himself. "Th-this isn’t some prank, right? Like, I’m not gonna look up and see them bolting out the door laughing, right?"

"Nope," you replied with a grin. "I’m all in."

Ortho, ever the enthusiastic hype man, zipped into the room with his jet thrusters. "Welcome to the club! Now we have a full party for dungeon raids. This is amazing!"

Azul cleared his throat, waving a hand. "Ahem, while cooperative RPGs are certainly an option, I believe we should start with a game of strategy and wit to introduce them properly. Perhaps a round of Chess of Betrayal?"

Idia groaned, sinking further into his hoodie. "Ugh, that game takes, like, three hours. If you’re gonna scare them away, at least wait until they’re too deep in to quit. Why don’t we start with something easy, like Goblin King Gauntlet?"

Ortho clapped his hands. "Ooh, I love that one! It has a random trap mechanic! Let’s play that!"

Azul raised an eyebrow, his smile shark-like. "Trap mechanics are hardly a proper welcome. It would be far better to demonstrate the finer nuances of strategy, wouldn’t you agree?"

Idia muttered something about Azul turning everything into a power play, but you interrupted before they could spiral into a full-blown debate. "Honestly, I’m fine with anything. Just deal me in."

Azul’s smirk widened. "Very well, then. I shall prepare the game board. And don’t worry, I’ll make certain you’re fully equipped for our upcoming campaigns. You’ll find we offer more than just fun—we offer victory."

Idia peeked out from his hoodie, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto his face. "You’re not bad at this whole club thing. Maybe this won’t be so terrible."

As they started setting up the game, you felt an unexpected warmth. Sure, it was just a board game club, but there was something endearing about their chaotic enthusiasm.

Though one thing was clear—Azul would probably try to sell you game tokens at some point, and Idia would absolutely try to teach you how to min-max your dice rolls.

But hey, you were ready for it.

Film Studies Club

When you announced your decision to join the film studies club, Vil paused mid-sip of his herbal tea, one elegantly arched eyebrow rising. For a moment, he looked like he was considering whether he had heard you correctly. Then, with a practiced air of nonchalance, he set the teacup down.

"Hm. Acceptable," he said coolly, though his tone betrayed a slight uptick of satisfaction. "It’s rare to find someone with enough taste to appreciate the art of cinema. I suppose your presence will be… useful."

But the slight curl of his lips gave him away.

He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat, and gave you an appraising look. "We have much to discuss. If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to commit entirely—no half-measures, no excuses. The camera is unforgiving, and I have no intention of allowing this club to falter under subpar contributions."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already pacing, gesturing dramatically like the star of an avant-garde production. "Lighting, blocking, composition—they are all integral to creating art, not merely entertainment. I trust you won’t embarrass yourself, or me, for that matter."

Despite his words, you caught the faintest hint of pride in his gaze as he turned to face you fully. "And, if for some reason, acting isn’t your strength, there are other roles. Cinematography, set design, editing… Perhaps backstage work would suit you, should you fail the audition."

He didn’t say it to be harsh; this was Vil’s version of encouragement. And as he continued outlining the club’s vision—"a modern renaissance in storytelling"—you realized he was genuinely excited to have you there, even if he’d rather gargle poison than openly admit it.

Finally, he stopped and gave you a small, approving nod. "Welcome to the film studies club. Don’t make me regret this."

Translation: I’m glad you’re here.

Science Club

The moment you announced your decision to join the science club, Rook’s eyes lit up like you’d just declared him the ruler of the universe.

"Ah, mon ami! What a magnifique choice!" he exclaimed, sweeping you into a theatrical bow so deep you thought he might topple over. "You possess the soul of an explorer, a true seeker of knowledge! Together, we shall unlock the mysteries of nature and celebrate its beauty in all its forms!"

"Uh… don’t scare them off, Rook," Trey interjected, though he was smiling. He adjusted his apron, clearly relieved that you hadn’t bolted under Rook’s enthusiastic greeting. "We’re glad to have you. Really. It’s nice to have someone else around who won’t accidentally set the lab on fire."

You raised an eyebrow. "That’s a low bar."

Trey shrugged. "You’d be surprised how many fail to meet it."

Before you could respond, Rook was already spinning grand plans. "Imagine the adventures we will have! Scaling mountains, crafting elixirs, nurturing delicate blossoms—ah, the poetry of science!" He clasped his hands to his chest, radiating so much joy that you were worried he’d break into song.

Trey, ever the grounded one, sighed fondly. "What he means is: we do a little bit of everything. Growing plants, chemistry experiments, cooking—you’ll fit right in. Assuming Rook doesn’t scare you off first."

Rook turned to Trey with an exaggerated gasp, as if the very suggestion of him being overwhelming was the greatest insult he’d ever received. "Chevalier des Roses, how could you wound me so?" He turned back to you with a theatrical flourish. "Fear not! I shall be your guide, your companion, your—"

"Assistant," Trey cut in, giving you a knowing look. "We'll assist you. Don’t let him take over your projects."

You grinned, feeling oddly at home already. Between Rook’s boundless enthusiasm and Trey’s steadying presence, you realized the science club might just be the perfect balance of chaos and calm.

Pop Music Club

When you announced your decision to join the Pop Music Club, Lilia was the first to react. He shot up from his chair with a dramatic flourish, his cape—where did the cape come from?—billowing as if on cue.

"Ah, an excellent choice! Welcome to the most electrifying club in the entire school!" Lilia declared, his voice reverberating like an arena announcer. He played an imaginary riff on an air guitar, complete with sound effects that you were almost certain were magically amplified.

Kalim clapped his hands, beaming as brightly as the sun. "This is going to be so much fun! We can sing duets, make up dances, throw a party for every new song we write—oh! We should have a welcome party for you right now!" He was already halfway to grabbing balloons out of thin air before Cater stopped him.

"Easy there, Kalim," Cater said with a laugh, pulling out his phone to snap a picture. "We haven’t even started jamming yet! Gotta document this first—‘New Member Alert 🚨🎶! Welcome to the coolest club at NRC!’” He posed next to you, flipping through filters. "Ooh, should we do a pastel vibe or go all-out neon?"

"Why not both?" Lilia suggested, somehow holding a tambourine he hadn’t been holding two seconds ago. He shook it with gusto, the jingles creating an impromptu beat.

Kalim joined in instantly, dancing around the room with energy that could probably power a small city. "This is going to be amazing! Do you play any instruments? Can you sing? Or maybe you’ll write the songs? Wait, can you do all three?!"

Before you could answer, Lilia leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Don’t worry, even if you’re terrible, I can teach you. After all, I’ve had centuries of experience."

"Centuries of experience at what exactly?" you asked, though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted the answer.

"Everything," Lilia replied cryptically, shaking the tambourine once more for emphasis.

Cater gave you a wink. "Don’t let him intimidate you. He’s mostly harmless. Mostly."

As the chaos swirled around you, you realized joining the Pop Music Club was probably going to be as much about managing everyone’s energy as it was about making music.

But looking at their genuine excitement, you couldn’t help but feel you’d made the right choice. It was going to be loud, unpredictable, and—most importantly—a lot of fun.

Equestrian Club

When you chose the Equestrian Club, Riddle’s reaction was immediate and deeply Riddle. He straightened his posture, cleared his throat, and gave you a small but dignified nod, though his ears turned the faintest shade of pink.

“A wise decision,” he said primly, but his voice wavered just enough to give away his excitement. “The Equestrian Club values discipline and care, and I trust you will uphold those values. Welcome.” He paused, then added with uncharacteristic softness, “I’m glad you chose us.”

Sebek, on the other hand, reacted with his usual intensity, which was to say, very loudly.

“AS EXPECTED OF SOMEONE WITH DISCERNING TASTE!” Sebek bellowed, saluting for no discernible reason. “THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB IS A PLACE OF HONOR AND DILIGENCE. YOU HAVE MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE, AND I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, SHALL PERSONALLY ENSURE YOU MEET OUR HIGH STANDARDS!”

“You’re going to scare the horses,” Silver muttered, patting a dozing mare who didn’t even flinch at Sebek’s volume. Clearly, she’d built up an immunity.

Silver turned to you with a sleepy but genuine smile. “Welcome. It’ll be nice having another person around who actually seems calm. I’ll show you the best places to ride, and we’ll make sure you’re comfortable with the horses.”

“And with the rules,” Riddle interjected, already retrieving a stack of laminated pages. “Equestrian care is not something to take lightly. You’ll need to memorize these guidelines to ensure both your safety and that of the horses.”

Sebek leaned over your shoulder to inspect the stack and immediately saluted again. “AN EXCELLENT INITIATIVE, HOUSEWARDEN ROSEHEARTS! I, TOO, WILL MEMORIZE THESE IN CASE THEY EVER REQUIRE REINFORCEMENT!”

“I think they’re fine,” Silver said. “We don’t need to make this harder than it needs to be.”

Riddle frowned. “Standards exist for a reason, Silver. Though I appreciate your enthusiasm, perhaps we can—Sebek, stop shouting—perhaps we can go over the basics first before overwhelming them.”

As Riddle and Sebek debated, Silver handed you a carrot to feed one of the horses. “Don’t worry,” he said, as the horse happily munched away. “It’s not as intense as it seems. Usually.”

You glanced at the stack of rules in Riddle’s hand and the fervent look in Sebek’s eyes. It was definitely going to be an adjustment. But seeing how genuinely happy they all were to have you—yes, even Sebek—you felt like this would be worth it.

Magift Club

When you announced your decision to join the Magift Club as their manager, the reaction was instantaneous and… surprisingly chaotic.

Ruggie let out a whoop, immediately dropping to the floor in a mock bow. "Ayo, everyone, bow to the boss! Finally, someone who can keep this circus in line!"

Leona, lounging on the sidelines, cracked open an eye and smirked. “’Bout time. Herbivores usually flake out, but I knew you were better than the rest.” He stretched lazily, like he’d personally orchestrated your decision. “Just keep the snacks coming, and we’ll get along fine.”

Epel looked between them and grinned, his enthusiasm much more grounded. “It’s great to have ya! With you around, maybe Leona will actually show up to warmups... or not just sleep through it.” He shot a pointed glance at their captain, who was, of course, ignoring him entirely.

“Eh,” Leona drawled, flicking his tail dismissively.

“You could work on that attitude,” you muttered, earning a low chuckle from him.

“See, I told you they’d fit right in!” Ruggie said, gesturing at you dramatically. “They’re already roasting him. This is gonna be great!”

Epel, suddenly inspired, added, “And they’ll keep Ruggie from stealing the fresh apple juice we get after games. That’s worth it alone.”

As the reality of your new role settled in, you felt a bit like a lion tamer walking into a den of mischievous cubs and one very lazy big cat. But their enthusiasm—expressed in their own peculiar ways—was endearing.

Ruggie threw an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, boss, first order of business: snacks! Let’s discuss our game day budget and whether I can convince you to sneak me a sandwich before practice.”

Leona snorted but didn’t argue, which you took as a sign of approval. Epel pumped his fist. “We’re gonna crush it this year!”

Maybe managing this bunch wouldn’t be so bad after all. If nothing else, it’d definitely be entertaining.

Mountain Lovers Club

When you joined Jade for a hike to "test the waters" of the Mountain Lovers Club, you had your doubts. You were prepared for a lot of things—maybe getting lost in the wilderness, maybe Jade pulling out his eerie cryptid knowledge, or maybe just a weirdly formal lecture about moss. What you weren’t prepared for was… actually enjoying yourself.

Jade led the way with an unhurried confidence, pointing out various wild plants, their uses, and fun facts about the environment. He wasn’t his usual enigmatic self, either. He seemed lighter, almost enthusiastic, as he described a tiny wildflower you would’ve missed entirely.

“This particular species only blooms during the autumn months,” he said, crouching to show you. “Quite fascinating how it adapts to the cooler temperatures, don’t you think?”

You nodded, trying not to stare too hard at how his face lit up when he spoke. Jade was… cute? When he wasn’t talking about mushrooms in a way that made you question your mortality, he was actually kind of charming.

By the time you reached a rocky outcrop with a gorgeous view of the campus, you realized you’d been smiling for most of the hike. Jade noticed too.

“It seems I’ve made a decent impression,” he said, turning toward you with a soft grin. “I’m pleased to see you enjoying yourself.”

“It’s… relaxing,” you admitted, surprising even yourself. “I didn’t think it’d be this fun.”

Jade tilted his head. “Does that mean you’d consider joining the Mountain Lovers Club?”

You hesitated for a moment, but as you looked at the breathtaking view and the rare, genuine smile on his face, the answer came easily. “Yeah. I’ll join.”

For a split second, Jade’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly schooled his expression into his usual composed smile. “Wonderful. I must say, I wasn’t expecting this outcome, but I’m glad. It’s not every day someone sees the beauty in what I love.”

There was an odd warmth in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. As he turned to lead the way back, he added, “Now that we’re a team, I look forward to our next adventure.”

Jade Leech was genuinely happy. And, you realized, so were you.

Gargoyle Research Society

When you told Malleus you were joining the Gargoyle Research Society, his reaction was almost imperceptible at first. A slight widening of his eyes, a pause as though he was waiting to see if you were serious, and then—pure, unfiltered delight.

"You have an interest in gargoyles?" he asked, his voice both surprised and reverent, as if you'd just confessed to enjoying a rare and ancient art form.

You nodded. "Yeah. I think they're fascinating. The designs, the history… They’re like stone guardians with stories etched into them."

For a moment, Malleus simply looked at you, his emerald eyes shimmering like the light of distant stars. Then, as if unable to contain his joy, he smiled—a soft, genuine expression that sent a wave of warmth through the chilly Ramshackle evening.

"This pleases me greatly," he said, his tone unusually light. “Not many share my appreciation for gargoyles. Often, I speak of them, and others… how do I put it? Pretend to listen.”

“Well, I’m definitely not pretending,” you said, grinning. “I’m in for real.”

Malleus clasped his hands together in what could only be described as regal excitement. "Then I must share something with you. Sometimes, I create gargoyles myself."

“You what?” you asked, laughing in delight.

“Yes,” he replied earnestly, his eyes alight. “Carving stone requires patience, but there is a certain satisfaction in breathing life into something lifeless. Well, not literal life, of course, but a soul of sorts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the image of Malleus with a chisel and hammer popping into your head. “I never would have guessed. That’s… really cool.”

“I can show you some of my creations, if you’d like,” he offered, almost shyly.

“I’d love that,” you said, genuinely glad to have joined him. “I think I’m going to enjoy this club.”

The glow in his expression was impossible to miss. It wasn’t just that you had joined his club—it was that, for once, someone truly shared his passion. “And I am glad to have you,” he said softly.

In that moment, under the watchful eyes of the stone guardians scattered around campus, it felt like you had chosen exactly the right place.

Masterlist

tags: @techno-danger

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kateschi · 2 days ago

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get them fangirls away!

synopsis: katsuki’s greatest battle isn’t on the field—it’s surviving relentless fangirls. good thing he has you to shield him

pairing: secondyear!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki doesn’t run away from fights. he’s a fighter—loud, explosive, and always ready for a challenge.

but this?

this is different. this is a nightmare of his own making, and no amount of explosions is going to fix it.

“dynamight-senpai!” the shrill voices echo down the hallway like a siren’s call, and katsuki’s eye twitches.

his palms spark with irritation as he quickens his pace, trying to lose them in the maze of ua corridors.

but they’re relentless, chasing after him like their lives depend on it. why the hell don’t these brats know when to quit?

“dynamight-senpai! wait for us!”

he clenches his jaw. they’re like a pack of wolves, except these wolves ask for autographs and selfies instead of sinking their teeth in. still, they’re dangerous.

his eyes dart around, scanning the hallway for any possible escape route, when he spots you up ahead.

you’re leaning casually against your locker, completely unaware of the chaos barrelling toward you.

a plan clicks into place immediately.

he pushes off the ground, sprinting towards you with quick, desperate steps.

the frantic pounding of his footsteps catches your attention just as he skids to a stop behind you, ducking down to use you as a human shield.

“katsuki—what the hell are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide with confusion as you turn to face him.

“fangirls!” he hisses, crouching even lower behind you, his breath slightly ragged. his red eyes flicker toward the hallway entrance where the fangirls are rounding the corner, their faces lighting up the moment they spot him.

before you can ask any more questions, the first-years come to a screeching halt in front of you, out of breath but still buzzing with excitement.

they don’t even seem to notice you, their eyes locked onto katsuki who is half-hidden behind you like a kid caught in trouble.

“dynamight-senpai!” the leader squeals, pushing her way to the front of the group. “we’ve been looking all over for you!”

katsuki grits his teeth and curses under his breath, barely peeking over your shoulder. his hand grips your shoulder a little tighter, holding onto you for dear life.

“go away,” he growls, but his usual explosive tone is muffled by your presence, sounding more irritated than intimidating.

the fangirls, however, are undeterred. in fact, they seem even more excited by the sight of their idol so close—and apparently, within reach.

“we just want a picture, dynamight-senpai!” one of them pleads, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “just one, please?”

“no,” he snaps, but it’s lacking the usual bite. his eyes dart to yours, desperation flashing across his face for a split second. “damn it, why won’t they leave?”

you bite back a laugh. the mighty katsuki, hiding behind his girlfriend from a group of over-eager first-years. this is too good.

taking a step forward, you square your shoulders and block katsuki from view even more. “I think you heard him. he said no.”

the leader of the fangirls blinks, her enthusiasm faltering just a bit as she finally acknowledges your presence. “wait... are you...?”

you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a knowing smirk. “yeah, I’m his girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air for a moment, and you can practically see the wave of shock that ripples through the group.

the girls exchange stunned looks, their expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.

“dynamight-senpai has a girlfriend?!” one of them whispers, her eyes going wide.

katsuki smirks as he straightens up a little behind you. “yeah, you heard her. my girlfriend. and if you don’t back off, she’ll beat your asses into the ground.”

you glance back at him, giving him a pointed look. “seriously? that’s your plan?”

“damn right it is,” he mutters, crossing his arms as if he’s made the smartest move ever. “they’re annoyin’ the hell outta me. figured I’d let you handle it.”

one of the girls in the back gasps, clutching her hands to her chest.

“wait, we didn’t mean to upset him! we’re just...we’re such big fans of dynamight-senpai! he’s so amazing!”

“yeah!” another chimes in, her eyes wide and pleading. “we didn’t mean any harm!”

you sigh, looking them over. they’re not bad kids—just... overly enthusiastic.

but katsuki is your boyfriend, and while you’re used to his temper, you’re not about to let anyone, even a group of fangirls, mess with him.

“look, I get it,” you say, your tone softening slightly, though you still keep it firm.

“you’re excited and all, but katsuki isn’t some kind of photo op. he’s just trying to get through his day. how about you give him some space?”

the leader looks embarrassed now, her earlier excitement faltering. “we didn’t mean to bother him...”

katsuki huffs from behind you. “you did.”

you glance at him over your shoulder, shaking your head slightly. “so helpful.”

he grumbles under his breath but stays quiet, letting you handle it. you turn back to the girls, offering them a small smile. “just...be respectful, okay?”

the leader nods quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “y-yeah, we’ll leave him alone. sorry for bothering you, dynamight-senpai and h/n-senpai.”

katsuki grunts, obviously relieved they’re finally getting the hint. the group lingers for a moment longer before they start shuffling away down the hall, their chatter much quieter now.

once they are gone, you turn to katsuki, raising an eyebrow. “so... hiding behind your girlfriend now? that’s a new one.”

he scowls, though the faint blush creeping up his neck was hard to miss. “shut up. I wasn’t hiding.”

you can’t help but laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “sure, ‘cause using me as a shield isn’t hiding.”

“tch. you handled it, didn’t you?” he shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “better than blowin’ ‘em up.”

you smile, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “you’re lucky I’ve got your back.”

he grumbles something under his breath, clearly too stubborn to admit you were right, but he takes his hand out of his pocket to intertwine your fingers together.

of course, that isn’t without a side-eye when you grin.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x y/n #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugou x female reader

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error-523scintilla · 3 days ago

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As a bisexual woman from and living in Panamá, if someone proudly said out loud they’re an ally I would shed tears of happiness, considering that the default here is Not Being One. Actively someone reminding us we are loved and worth standing with even if technically Not Their Problem, opening themselves to criticism from most of the population, taking the risk, is such a sweet and impactful thing to do. We are few of the countries still not having equal marriage rights, and the piece of shit that our Monseñor is, having an iron fist grip in our politics, it won’t happen soon. So someone from outside the community actively saying they love us is such a beautiful show of love to us here.

When I do tutoring as a side gig with young boys and teenage guys, and they talk to me about stuff they see online, and repeat some mysoginistic bullshit they learnt online, I concerned but patiently ask them what they mean by that. When explaining it out loud I may answer with ‘that’s so mean why would anyone say that about a girl’ with a preoccupied face, and now seeing their favorite funny math teacher looking hurt makes them think ‘wait maybe this is kind of wrong and fucked up actually’. Before that moment, have they ever stopped to think how that was wrong, when all their pals normalize the same thought process? Isn’t that what mysoginistic men online prey on for them to not find out until it explodes on their faces? And now they see their loved tutor, who’s a woman, be affected by those kind of comments when they don’t feel I fit the rhetoric, and ask how much of that stuff is then actually false. To doubt what they’ve been fed, specially in a society like the one in my country. I plant the seed of doubt, and see it bloom. I gently guide them to a place of good while teaching math.

There was this kid in 5th grade before the pandemic who I saw weekly for a few months who one day proudly told me how he defended a girl in his class, who he even kinda disliked for unrelated reasons to this post, be picked up by some other boys for being a girl or some other bullshit I don’t remember. That the stuff they were saying were mean and false and made no sense. He was so proud of standing up for what he felt was wrong and following what his nice teacher had taught him, and I congratulated him for doing a good job. It made him so so happy to be recognized. He was such a nice kid. I hope he’s doing alright now.

Nooo mutual don’t put that “men fall down the alt-right pipeline bc women/feminists are too mean” post on my dash nooo mutual don’t try to say women need to be nicer when dealing with misogynistic men nooo mutual nooo

#man I I really do miss giving classes to José Antonio #he was such a funny guy #took me like 5 or 6 clases to make him understand that no he’s not dumb and math is not the worst thing in the world #to sit down the whole class with me and do the homework #that math can be fun #he sometimes told me how he waited all week to see me and tell me about what he did that week #I love when my students tell me that ahhhh #it makes me happy when they say how my class is a highlight of their week #I miss doing those more often #stupid college with his stupid class schedules that end up at 8 pm #I also miss the money #I also remember when Ana Lucia (15) went from almost failing math to actually be some of the best math students in her class #she was the ban of my existence and always a fight for her to do her homework #but my gif wasn’t she so proud when for the first time in her life she didn’t even had to do the final of math bc she had high enough #índice to be exonerated of doing it #her mom in a million years thought that would ever happen #anyways I derailed too much with my rambling #I love kids okay #even when being the most annoying motehrfuckers ever

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txrully · 2 days ago

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WATASHI NO AIDORU SAMA!

summary: IN WHICH BLLK BOYS DATE AN IDOL!

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, hiori yo, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness.

warning: fem! reader implied

isagi yoichi

isagi is in awe of you. your determination, charm, and the way you captivate an audience—he’s lowkey your #1 fan. he’s also the boyfriend who overthinks everything. is he doing enough? are you eating properly? is his goodnight text too basic? but when you’re overwhelmed by the pressures of being an idol, he’s the one who brings you back down to earth with his soft smiles and reassuring words.

when he attends your concerts, he tries to keep a low profile, but the way he beams when you glance at him gives him away every time.

"yoichi, they caught you smiling like a lovesick puppy in the crowd."

"but you looked so cool up there! how could I not?!"

"next time, at least wear sunglasses."

"then how will you see me cheering for you?"

bachira meguru

bachira lives for the drama of dating you. the glitz and glam? he loves it. sneaking into your dressing room mid-rehearsal? absolutely. he thrives on making you laugh, especially when the idol world feels too suffocating. he even suggests the most ridiculous disguises when you want to go out, like matching frog hats or dressing up as old people.

he’s also not shy about flaunting your relationship, sending chaotic selfies to your fan club and saying, “aren’t we cute?” yeah, he’s banned from your socials now.

"bachira, stop posting pictures of us!"

"what? they love me. look, 10k likes already!"

"i will revoke your access to my phone."

"awwww :("

itoshi rin

rin doesn’t care about fame, but oh boy, he cares about you. the media knows him as the stoic, no-nonsense soccer prodigy, but behind closed doors, he’s your biggest supporter. he secretly streams your performances and even sets your songs as his alarm (though he’ll deny it if you ever find out). when you’re busy with schedules, rin shows his love in quiet ways—making sure you eat, sending random texts like, “don’t overwork yourself. i mean it.”

but paparazzi catching him sneaking into your concerts? yeah, that’s not part of his plan.

"you know they saw you, right?"

"tch. who cares?"

"rin, they’re calling you my biggest fanboy on twitter."

"...well, they’re not wrong."

nagi seishiro

nagi finds your idol schedule exhausting just hearing about it. but he loves you, so he makes the effort. he’s the type to show up to your rehearsals half-asleep, holding your favorite snacks. when you’re performing, though, he’s laser-focused, recording every moment because “you look cool up there.”

he also doesn’t get jealous often, but when a fanboy gets too enthusiastic, he’ll casually sling an arm around your shoulder and deadpan, “she’s taken.”

"sei, were you napping backstage?"

"mm. comfy couch."

"you’re unbelievable."

"but i got your favorite chips."

"...okay, forgiven."

mikage reo

reo is the ultimate boyfriend-slash-manager. need help with your contract? done. overwhelmed with schedules? he’s already booked a spa day for you. he’s your rock in the chaotic idol world, always reminding you that it’s okay to take a break.

he also spoils you shamelessly—designer dresses for red carpets, private dinners after concerts, and the fanciest bouquets delivered to your dressing room.

"reo, you didn’t have to buy out the whole bakery just because i said i liked their croissants."

"but you deserve the best."

"...i’m keeping the chocolate ones."

"all yours, my love."

chigiri hyoma

chigiri gets it. as someone constantly in the spotlight himself, he knows how draining it can be. he’s always there to hype you up, whether it’s helping you perfect a dance move or rehearsing lines for interviews. when you feel insecure, he’s the first to remind you of how talented and beautiful you are.

his favorite moments are when it’s just the two of you—no cameras, no fans, just quiet walks or lazy afternoons.

"hyo, do you think i’m doing okay?"

"you’re doing amazing. and even if the whole world doesn’t see it, i do."

"you’re too sweet."

"only for you."

hiori yo

hiori loves your passion for performing, but he worries about how much it takes out of you. he’s the type to leave little notes in your bag—"you’ve got this!" or "don’t forget to eat!"—and surprise you with coffee during long rehearsals.

he doesn’t love the spotlight, but for you? he’ll put up with it, even if it means sitting front-row at your concerts surrounded by screaming fans.

"yo, are you okay? you looked uncomfortable out there."

"yeah, i’m fine. just not used to being around so many people."

"next time, i’ll get you noise-canceling headphones."

"i’ll wear them if they have your voice recorded on loop."

shidou ryusei

shidou lives for the chaos of your idol life. paparazzi? fans? scandals? bring it on. he thrives on being the center of attention, especially when it involves you. he’s the boyfriend who gets caught sneaking onto stage mid-performance just to blow you a kiss.

he’s also fiercely protective, ready to throw hands with anyone who disrespects you. but when it’s just the two of you, he’s surprisingly soft, reminding you why you fell for him in the first place.

"ryu, you can’t just interrupt my concerts!"

"what? they loved it. besides, i missed you."

"you saw me five minutes ago!"

"five minutes too long."

itoshi sae

sae isn’t the best at expressing his feelings, but his actions speak volumes. he doesn’t show up to your events often, but when he does, it’s with flowers in hand and a rare smile just for you. he admires your dedication but worries you’re pushing yourself too hard.

he’s also your harshest yet most supportive critic, always giving honest feedback because he wants you to be your best.

"sae, was my performance okay?"

"it was good. but you can do better."

"...you could’ve just said you’re proud of me."

"i am. but you already knew that."

michael kaiser

kaiser adores the spotlight, and dating you? it only adds to his charm. he loves flaunting your relationship, whether it’s through matching outfits or casually mentioning you in interviews. he’s cocky, but his support is unwavering, always hyping you up like your personal cheerleader.

he’s also lowkey competitive, challenging you to see who can trend on social media first after a big event. spoiler: you always win.

"kaiser, stop refreshing twitter."

"i need to know if we’re trending."

"you’re ridiculous."

"ridiculously in love with you."

alexis ness

ness is the sweetest, most wholesome boyfriend. he’s constantly in awe of your talent and works hard to make you feel appreciated, from writing you letters to learning your favorite songs on the piano. he’s also your biggest fan, always gushing about you to anyone who’ll listen.

he gets flustered when fans recognize him as “your boyfriend” but secretly loves it.

"ness, are you blushing?"

"n-no! i just—your fans are so nice."

"you’re adorable."

"not as adorable as you."

do not copy, translate or plagiarize my works.

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yung-notorious · 2 days ago

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ALWAYS SOME NEW SHIT, AIN’T NEVER THE USUAL! I FUCK YOU SO GOOD TILL I HAVE YOU DELUSIONAL! - ♡

— your roommates are gone, the apartment is yours, and you're laid up in bed with somethin' dangerous. all you need is him, his hands, and a little time to make the most of it. — feat. satoru gojo

+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x college!gojo, excerpt from never lose my chapter 8, porn with plot, situationship, morning sex, that good 'ol sunday dick, protected sex, dirty talk, body worship, sub/dom undertones, trust & boundaries, slight cum play, squirting, riding, fingering, voice kink, gojo kink(?), edging & milking, overstimulation, gojo’s character may be questionable but his stroke game is A1. notes. word count 5.8K, apart of a larger body of work but can stand alone as a one-shot. you can read the full chapter here: A03 & master post. title: lick me - sexyy red ft. lil baby. divider: fairytopea (tumblr)

You knew Satoru was bullshitting when he said he’d be on the phone for a few more minutes. He’s been chatting away for an extra thirty, and you’ve already gone through your entire Instagram feeds stories and now the Tiktok burnout is starting to set in.

Exhausted from doom scrolling, you chuck your phone somewhere across the bed to snuggle deeper into his embrace, resting your head against his chest. You don’t have a single fucking clue what’s being said anymore with his ear now pressed against the phone, but whatever it is definitely isn't related to earlier’s conversation. You think you catch mention of the school’s football team and the names of people you don’t recognize, but at this point, you’re too out of the loop to care. He’s lucky you actually like being around him, because had this been anyone else you’d probably kick them out telling them to go the fuck home.

What’s even more surprising is that despite being bored out of your mind, chilling with him in bed while he talks on the phone is strangely confronting. You’ve had your share of intimate moments at your young age, but you’ve never simply laid up like this with a guy before. It’s domestic as hell— whatever the girls online call it— but you’re not pushing it away.

Resting your head on his chest as he rubs your shoulder, you let the rhythm of his voice wrap around you like a warm blanket. There’s this cool boyish charm that comes through as he talks— a side of him you’ve caught glimpses of only a few times when he’s speaking to his friends. He’s more commanding and animated, yet somehow still a relaxed version of himself all together, nearly a polar opposite of how he is with you.

And you know what? That’s exactly how it should be, you’re not the one to be treated like a homie. And even though his friends do annoy the hell out of you when they’re together, seeing him be himself with them is undeniably attractive and lowkey turning you on.

Shifting over onto your stomach, you tuck an arm behind his neck, hooking a leg around his waist, letting your free hand slowly trail down his body feeling him up. Stopping to rest your hand on the inside of his thigh, you look up, waiting for a reaction.

When you don’t get one— he’s still chatting away— you decide to take it a step further, slowly creeping your hand up to cup his balls, palming his bulge.

It only takes a couple good rubs for you to feel his dick harden beneath you. Feeling bold, you wrap a tight fist around his length stroking him through his briefs. All it takes is a couple tight ones for his thighs to widen up and you take that as permission to go further.

Slipping a hand under his waistband to squeeze his dick, you watch him bite his lip, still ignoring you as he lazily stares up at the ceiling. He can try to act all cool and unbothered all he wants, but you know exactly how to melt his ice.

Taking charge, you rub your thumb carefully around his slit, your acrylic nail getting caught in the fabric of his briefs with each pressing circle. It doesn't take much effort before you’re feeling the wetness of his pre sticking to the pad of your thumb as you. Pausing to collect up what you can to wet his shaft, you grip your hand back around his length giving him more quick strokes.

Feeling more daring, you connect your lips to his neck, slowly peppering soft, wet kisses along his skin as you continue working your hand around his dick and balls. You’re finding some sort of fun in all this really, feeling him up in every which way you please while he lays beside you trying to act like he’s not bricked the hell up.

You can hear every grunt that gets stuck in his throat and cracking of his toes each time you press against the underside of his tip. It’s kind of funny how you’re unsure who’s more of a slut now: you for daring to do this, or him for letting it happen while he’s on a call. Y’all are both some trouble!

Just as you’re about to go for a gentle bite on his ear you feel the deep bass of his voice against your lips.

“Choso— Choso…bro I’ma let you go…I’ll try to be over there later tonight. Alright, I'll talk to you later. Bye.” He ends the call to lean over— your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick— to drop his phone onto the nightside with a loud thud.

Unfortunately for him, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his composure, it’ll be his own body that will betray him every single time. Men, they’re so fucking weak. You probably could rob him with a fleshlight.

Falling back onto the mattress, he turns to give you a look before opening his mouth, and of all the things you expect him to say, it definitely isn’t, “Why’d you interrupt my phone call?”

“Because you talk too much.” You say smart, releasing him to wipe your hand clean on his briefs along the side of his hip. Sitting up on your elbow to rest your cheek in your hand, you hover above his face to stare down at him challengingly, awaiting his response. This could go one or two ways, but you know for sure either way ends with you getting fucked.

"All I needed was a few minutes.” He murmurs, his hand glides up your chest stopping just below your neck before gently tracing your jawline with his thumb.

“I gave you that, now I want your attention.” You cock your head. “Did you forget where you were at?”

"You have it— so now what’s up?" He asks, his tone still soft, eyes locked on yours as he tilts your chin up just as your hand slides over to squeeze his thigh.

“You know what I want…” You breathe, inching closer to his bulge.

“Yeah?” He lets go of your chin, trailing his hand down your chest. “You don’t have to ask me— could have just pulled it out.” Eyes still locked on yours as you slip a hand under his waistband.

Letting you go, he gives you space to slip under the covers, lifting his hips to help you tug off his briefs. The second they're gone, your hand is around him, leaning over to take him between your lips. You know exactly how he likes it— your mouth and hand wrapped tight around the tip, teasing him with just the right amount of pressure that’ll make his toes curl.

You know you're doing a good job when his hand resting at the back of your neck tightens, turning into a firm grip that keeps you exactly where he wants you. Not wanting to try your luck deep throating him just yet, you brace yourself with a hand on his thigh for balance, but soon find yourself running your hand along the muscle instead, grabbing on wherever please, feeling out their solid weight and smoothness. Even though his dick is the main event— hot, thick, and heavy in your hands each time you pull off to catch your breath— it’s his thighs that have your full attention. Maybe next time you'll leave a trail of bites and hickeys along them, marking him up good just because you can.

“Get in between my legs...” He throws the covers back making room for you. Without a second thought, you crawl between his thighs, and just as you’re about to shift down the bed to lay on your stomach, his voice interrupts.

“Uh-uh, sit up...” He whispers, and despite it being nothing more than a gentle correction, it still finds a way to make your stomach tingle. You can’t even lie, that bossy shit turns you up. Glancing up at him, you slowly prop yourself up on your elbows to part your knees just enough, arching yourself down low, nice and sexy in a way you know he’ll like.

Bobbing your head up and down his dick, you lose track of every grunt and curse you pull past his lips. The wet, squishy sounds from each tight squeeze, paired with the clacking of your pretty nails around his dick, become a rhythm you get lost in until the growing dampness in your panties pulls you back in. Fuck, you’re going to have to speed this up because you really want to fuck now.

“Sloppy, baby. Make it—” His voice breaks off, caught in his throat as you pull off to throw a nasty wad of spit on his dick, watching as it drips down his length. “There you go…” He murmurs, a grin tugging at his lips. You don’t even need to look up to know he’s smiling. Anything for him, right?

“Gotta get the sides too. All of it. Just how I taught you...” His words make your stomach tighten. Glancing up through your lashes, you latch onto his shaft, tongue tracing long, slow licks along his length. The salty taste of him mixing with the slick of your spit as you pump the head of his dick with a tight fist.

“Sloppier…spit on it some more…get that shit wet for me…” He murmurs, bringing his hands down into your hair to gently pull back to keep out of your face. Taking a moment to lick his pre-cum and drool off your lips, you teasingly slap his dick against your tongue, testing its weight. Spitting down onto him again, you let it drip slow and messy before taking him back into your mouth, your lips wrapping tight around him. As you glance up, you catch him smiling down at you, and you can’t help but sheepishly smile back. You used to hate giving head, but for him— talking to you like this— you’ll keep going till he busts in your mouth twice.

You swear everytime he looks at you like that, something inside you loosens up. You never thought sex could be like this— fun, messy, and so damn freeing. That it’s not just about getting him off; but letting yourself enjoy it too.

Remembering the times he’s whispered for you to drop your innocence and open up awakens those butterflies in your stomach. It’s a mystery how in such a short time of knowing him, he’s managed to create a safe space for you to let go and push past the boundaries you once clung to— all without a hint of judgment.

But no matter how amazing everything feels with him, there’s this nagging thing that won’t leave you alone—a constant reminder of how off this all this really is. No matter how hard you try to push it aside, the truth is starting to feel impossible to shake, and the longer you avoid the elephant in the room, the harder it becomes to hold it all together. It’s doubt that creeps in at the end of every night, makes you wonder if any of this is even real. But fuck it, you don’t have the time to make any sense of it right now. You can talk it out with Tink later, you have to get this nut in.

"Ahmp!" You bite back a moan, caught off guard as his hand slaps your ass right when he shifts to sit up.

“Come up here…” He says, and without a second thought, you slide your soaked panties off to straddle his lap. Once fully seated, you wrap your hand around his dick, stroking him from behind your back, while your other hand rests against his shoulder for support. You can feel your wetness sticking against him, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower not to be a horny bunny and grind your sloppy wet pussy against his chest.

“You know where that condom at?” The question catches you off guard, making you pause— again, definitely not what you expected to hear. Someone’s full of surprises today, huh?

“Yeah, why?” You give him a confused look.

“It’s early, and I’m still kinda tired…I don’t wanna have to worry about pulling out. It be in the back of my mind when we fuck...” He says, warm hands smoothing along your stomach then up around your ribs.

Okay, cool, good to know at least one of you is trying to be responsible. Condom? Sure. Not a problem!

“I think it’s in here.” You lean over, trying to search in the top drawer of your nightstand without tipping over. “Hold me.” You warn, feeling yourself about to topple over. His hands quickly find your waist steadying you.

“I got it.” You find it stuck beneath a pile of clutter you've been meaning to sort out.

Handing him the gold foil, you scoot back a bit, giving him space to do his thing. As much as you love the feeling of raw sex, there’s something seriously hot about watching him work a tight fist along his length, struggling to stretch the latex over his girth. And as if that wasn’t enough, the damage your sanity takes from his dick snapping back against his abdomen when he lets go is downright disrespectful.

“Come on— ready?” He grabs you at your ribs, pulling you forward towards him, your breath hitches at his sudden eagerness. “You don’t need this…” He tugs at your shirt, and the second it’s off he’s grabbing hold of your boobs, squeezing them and sucking on your nipples like a baby. Never too tired to suck titties, huh!?

Taking your hand to guide his dick to your entrance, you carefully sink down onto the tip. Yet, no matter how many times you’ve done this, the feeling of just the head pushing through is one that’ll never get easier even with time.

It’s harder this time around— his dick— no pun intended. After nearly a week of constant sex, you have no choice but to take him slow, inch by inch, feeling yourself clench around him as you sink down.

“Gimme a second…” You plead, pressing your hand against his chest to keep him from bucking his hips up. On a good day you could take all of him, but with the way he’s bricked up, you’re not trying to bite off more than you can chew. See, this is that early morning dick, It’ll be a lot more than hurtful words flying out of your mouth if he so much as attempts to push you down.

“Take your time…” He teases, bringing both his hands to rub soothing circles along your jawline, fingers combing through your tresses around your nap. “Too much?”

“It’s enough— you’re not little.” You laugh, bouncing slowly on his length, giving your wetness a chance to moisten the condom as you try to fully take him in. It’s painstakingly slow working your sore pussy down his stiff dick, but guess this is the price you pay for letting him fuck you like a dog all week.

“My bad…” He chuckles. “Here, come lay on my chest— hmm.” He pulls you into his arms. Slanging one around your back, he scoots the both of you further down the bed gripping a handful of your ass to help guide you down his length.

“It’s too dry…” You come back up, the friction of the condom becoming unbearable as you feel yourself drying up from frustration. This isn’t working.

“I got you…” He brings two fingers to his mouth to wet them. Pulling out, he uses those same fingers to stroke your pussy, rubbing tight circles on and around your clit. Burying your face in his neck to stifle your moans, you feel yourself grow wetter as he whispers filthy praises in your ear, urging you on.

“This better?” He lips brush against the shell of your ear. Your thighs quiver with each teasing stroke to your clit, the oversensitivity heightening your arousal. And like a slut you can’t do much but moan against his neck when you feel those same two fingers sink into your heat. Curling deep, giving himself a feel around your velvety walls.

“Mhm…” You nod, slowly rolling your hips down to ride his hand. The exploratory movements of his fingers driving deep, stroking your g-spot. “Right there…fuck…right there…”

“I got you baby…I got you...” His palm presses against your clit as he drives his fingers even faster making sure to hit that sweet spot over and over, he’s so damn deep he could poke your cervix if he pleased. “…you’re squeezing baby, relax for me…there you go…how that feel, good?”

“Toru…I’ma fucking squirt…” You warn, already feeling yourself start to leak. Shit feels so fucking good he needs to publish a wikiHow on finger stroking pussy.

“Show me— go ‘head baby…you know I got you…” He exhales heavily, his other hand running through your hair to hold you close to him as he bullies your pussy like a pro, digging your coochie out so good, leaving her sorer than when you started. It’s a good soreness though, a sweet discomfort that’s nothing more than a reminder of how throughly he’s fucked you the past week.

“Fuck— hmmmm!” You grip his hair tight, trying your damn hardest to hold back the moan that’s fighting to erupt from you, but it’s no use because all it takes is one final stroke to your g-spot and you're cumming harder than a bull.

“Oh my god!” You cry out, clenching down on his fingers so tight he has to pull them out. Taking his hands to strum your pussy to keep you squirting, your thighs shake with such a force you have no choice but to cling onto him for dear life. A wave of pleasure hits you so intense your entire body electrifies like static off an old box TV across your chest and shoulders. His fingers are pruney once he lets go, all gooed up and coated with sticky globs of your cum.

Wiping his fingers clean on your thigh, he effortlessly guides your soaked pussy all the way down his dick, and a sweet moan comes up your throat once you’re fully seated. You’re so damn wet you can’t even feel the condom anymore, if it was any darker in here you wouldn’t even be able to tell he had one on.

“Bet that rose can’t do it like me, huh?” He teases, two hands at your waist rocking you forward. “I got you making a mess. Wetting the bed all up...”

“Heh— please shut up…” You laugh, catching your breath. Because of course he’d make a joke eight inches deep in your pussy. No matter how good his dick is it’ll never take away from how corny he can be sometimes.

Regaining your strength, your hands find his shoulders again to steady yourself as you begin a slow pace bouncing on his dick. It starts off a lot sweeter this time, nothing like your usual. No creaking bed or pounding headboard, just the quiet sound of your soft moans and his low grunts filling the room.

You’re fully lost in the moment when his hips start to move in perfect sync with yours, the delicious drag of his dick massaging your walls coaxes the softest, neediest whimpers past your lips. You’re so in love with his dick, you’re serious when you say you’ll fuck him up if you ever find out he’s sharing, because this shit right here makes no sense. It’s too damn good!

“More…right there…” You whine, needing to feel him deeper. Gripping your ass in response he presses his heels into the mattress, pulling your hips closer towards him to fuck up into you so well you have to put a hand to his chest to hold him back.

You totally get the need for the condom now— thankful for it even— because with the way he’s fucking you this damn good you don’t think he could push you off quick enough before he’s busting his load. And as bad as you want it, you’d hate to dip into that hundred dollars he gave you to spend half of it on a Plan B.

“Toru...Toru...Toru.." His name spills from your lips over and over as your brain goes fuzzy, slipping into a dizzy, dick drunken state. He's gripping you up just so right, and every stroke to your g-spot has you coming further undone, scattering every thought in your head until there's nothing left but his voice and touch occupying your mind.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby…didn’t I say I’d fuck you everyday? Hmm?” His voice rings.

“Thursday…Friday…Saturday…Sunday…” He murmurs, each day punctuated by a slow, deliberate thrust in sync with the roll of your hips. “You love this dick, don’t you?” He breathes, his hand coming down heavy giving a sharp slap against your ass.

“I do…” You whine, almost like a declaration, as you pull his hands off your waist to guide them up your chest to cup your boobs, lacing your fingers through his to show him how to squeeze them just right.

You feel so incredibly fucking sexy bouncing on his dick, riding him like it’s been a while and you miss him. You’re trying your hardest to keep it classy for him, but with one more slap to your ass, you’ll be begging him to take the safety off and hit your pussy raw from the side till it goes numb. You hope he’s loving this shit, because you’re not letting him get up in you for at least a week after this one. Your coochie needs a break!

“I wanna cum…” You whine, searching his face for permission, but he doesn’t hear you, too focused on working his own nut out.

“I wanna cum…” You whine again, your hands come down to press against his chest to grind your pussy down hard on his dick. You got him buried so deep inside you the weight of your hips are holding down his.

“You tryna be done already?” His hips still, falling flat as he watches you chase your orgasm all on your own.

“No. Just don’t move…” You plead, trying to keep him from messing up your rhythm as you hit that sweet spot like a drum. It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to rise up your body, making your face flush hot and your heart rate pick up. You’re almost there!

“Don’t move— don't move— I’m close…fuck…ahh” You babble out, toes curling. Almost there, you’re almost there!

“Damn boo…” The pet name rolls off his tongue effortlessly, bringing you into focus, your eyes meeting his right as he wraps a firm hand around your neck holding you in place. You got him pussy drunk acting rough and nasty just how you like it. “When you start taking dick like this? You showing off for me today?”

“Mmmm— fuck me after I cum…” You say through a smile, his thumb brushing gently underneath your chin. The look in your eyes clear— you’re trying to get broken off like a Kit-Kat. You want it rough, and you know he’ll deliver. He’s got you.

“Say that again?” He asks as if he can’t understand a word you’re saying. There’s no denying that your voice turns him on. But it’s cool, you have no problem spelling it out for him.

“I said I want you to fuck the shit out of me after I c— ahmp!” You yelp, a wave of giddy pleasure washing over you from the sting of his heavy hand landing across your ass again.

“One more time for me?” He pulls you forward, a devilish look in his eyes waiting for you to soften into submission in his hands.

“I want you to fuck me so bad.” You whine, voice dripping with so much need. You don't give a fuck how you sound right now, his dick drilling your pussy deep, it’s thick head messaging against your puffy walls. “I wanna feel all of it— oowww— mmmm— Fuck! You feel so fuckin— ahh good!—” You moan out, each and every one of his deep strokes punching the words from out of your chest.

“You don’t want it.” He taunts, a smirk tugging at his lips daring you to prove him wrong— to show him just how badly you want it— to beg. The sudden shift in dominance sends your heart racing, and you find yourself rocking your hips even faster.

It’s this dynamic that you love the most: how one minute he’s soft and tender, talking you through with the filthiest yet gentlest whispers, and the next, commanding and rude, giving you the space to surrender completely and embrace your submissive side. It’s the perfect balance of give and take, and with him talking in your ear nasty like this, you’re more than willing to give it all up and let him lead.

“Yes I do— fuck…fuck…” You moan breathlessly, lost in the wave of pleasure taking you under. “Make me cum…” You look down at him with those needy doll eyes, the kind that silently beg for more, even as you roll your hips slow and deliberate like the little minx you are, teasing him just enough that you know will drive him wild.

Every move is a silent challenge, a tease, a true test of his strength and you’re doing it because you know exactly what he wants, and he’s already right there ready to meet you. His hands find your waist again, gripping you firmly, and that awaiting spark of dominance lights up his eyes as he pulls you in close.

No one but him can bring this side out of you, the one that craves to be taken, to be pushed to the edge. You know he’s been holding back, waiting for you to push him there, and now, you’ve done it. His hand then tightens around your frame, the tension in his body radiating through every inch of him, and that tells you everything you need to know; you’ve got him right where you want him, you can let go.

“You not gonna run?” He presses, but you know your answer is meaningless. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried.

“No—” You whine, the sound barely escaping your throat as you bounce, the strain in your knees starting to intensify with each movement as you chase your orgasm.

“No, what?” Another good grab to your ass, this time with two hands and enough grip to bounce you on his dick himself, fucking up into with a force that causes you to fall forward, nails digging into his shoulders as you cling onto him. “Tell me baby…go ‘head.”

“Fuck…Gojo— Go— AHMP!” Another heavy slap to your ass before you can catch your breath to repeat it. “I’m not gonna run Gojo— I'm not gonna run—”

“You know I love hearing you say it…” He beathes heavy, one hand now threading through your hair to grip your tresses tight, the other fucking you down his dick. “You gonna cum on this dick? Yeah?”

“Yes! Fuck— Fuck— Gojo! Gojo!” You choke out, orgasm fully taking over each and every one of your senses.

“Again baby…come on…this your dick right…” He breathes, voice low and hot in your ear, hips bucking up fast as another heavy slap comes down to your ass. “Don't run from it…don’t run from it.”

“Fucckkkk— Oh my godddddd! Keep going! Keep going! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes!” You cry out, your pussy clenching so tightly around him that you can feel the rim of the condom scratching against your entrance. The intensity of your grip threatens to pull it loose as it’s already slipped off some.

“Mmmmm— there you gooo~“ He coos, sensing you reached your climax seeing the way your jaw goes slack and your grip around him tightens.

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You’re begging like slut now throwing your arms around him to tuck behind his neck. Feeling you lose yourself, you take your fingers to work them up to brush along his undercut, anything to try and keep you grounded.

“Kiss on my neck…yeah…just like that for me— “ He moans, as you press your lips against his skin, licking hungry, wet, and sloppy. “Just like that…”

“Where you want me to nut?” His question meets your ear with urgency, the pace of his thrusts quickening in such a way that you can tell he’s close to cumming.

“Anywhere…I don’t care—” You gasp, words spilling, your body trembling with anticipation. Stupidest fucking question he could ask right now. He can bust it on your tits, ass, pussy, or even your face. You don’t care as long as his hot cum drips off your body, ready for him to scoop up and feed to you like you’re Suki.

“Shit!— Get up! Get up!” He groans, lifting you up just enough to pull off the condom to jerk his dick.

“Gimme your hand…” He takes yours to grab his length, wrapping his large hand around yours, guiding you as you both help work his nut out. Both of your bodies are hot and sweaty, and his heavy breathing is perfectly in sync with yours. Your thighs coming down from a trembling mess.

“Like that baby….mmmm…you gonna kiss it when you're done?” He hums through a smile, head thrown back in pure bliss. It doesn’t take more than a few tight strokes for you to feel his dick pulsate, his hot cum spills out running down both your knuckles sticking your fingers together.

“Oowww— it's so much!” You giggle, endorphins still having you feeling like you're on cloud nine as you watch amazed by the amount of cum he’s spilling, feeling a warm milky streak run sticky down the back of your hand.

“Fuck—” He exhales, chest heaving as he starts to come down from his climax. His arms drop limply to his sides, but you stay right where you’re sitting on his chest, reaching back as you keep working the cum out of his still hard dick.

You can feel him twitch with every pull as you coax the last drops of cum from him. There’s just something so sexy about the way his breath stutters and his toes crack as they curl with each slow tug…like you’re draining him of every ounce of cum he has left.

“That’s it…baby…that’s it…alright that’s it…stop…” He warns, voice strained and his face balling up, eyes shut tight as he tries to fight back a guttural moan. You feel his abs tense up underneath you, throwing off your balance but you take a hand to his chest— now flushed red and glistening with sweat— to hold him steady, fist tightening around his dick to jerk him quicker.

“Uh-uh, there’s more, look…lemme get it all out for you.” You tease with a playful laugh, tightening your hold around him. “Just relax, it doesn’t hurt.” You purr, your voice dropping low and sweet. More cum spilling with every pull.

“Oh my g— Yooooo! Stop! Stop! Stop! Bro! Stop!” He gasps, body jerking involuntarily from not being used to the overstimulation. His hips shake under your grip as if trying to escape, but he’s trapped under the weight you’re pressing down on him.

“Bro!? I’m not your bro!” You scoff with a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the fucking nerve to address you by anything other than something ladylike! Goofy ass, now you’re really not letting up. He must have you confused for someone else.

“I swear to god, if you make me nut again— Fuck!” He growls, head tipping back as he wraps a tight hand around your wrist trying to stop you.

“Satoru, you don’t scare me— let go!” You mock, your hand steadily working his dick, grip unwavering even as his strength weakens less and less from every stroke.

“What happened to all that shit you were talking, hmm?” You pause, watching him closely. “Bet that hand can’t do it like mine?”

“I’ma fuck you up after this…I’m so serious…watch.” He breathes out, a shaky laugh breaking through, his grip on your wrist loosens completely as he gives in, letting you milk him for everything he’s got. He’s probably dead serious too, but the way his fine ass is squirming under you is too entertaining to give a damn. And to be honest, that just sounds like a promise for round two and that’s not striking fear in your heart— or pussy. Ain't no fun when the rabbits got the gun now is it? We can go till the fucking bed breaks boo, y’all got all the time in the world today!

“Schhhhhoooowwww— oh my god!” He groans, his plump lips parting with a low, desperate growl. “Alright c’mon, chill! Stop!”

“Keep lying telling people I snore, and I’ma tell your friends you moan like a bitch." You taunt, leaning closer. Pressing more of your weight down on him, your strokes turn into slow teasing massages around the tip of his dick with your palm.

“You still mad over that?” His eyes open meeting yours as his hands grip the sheets in an attempt to hold back from cumming. He can try to look intimidating with those blue eyes all he wants, but they aren’t moving you.

“I don’t get mad, I get even.” You bite back with a whole lot of sass, letting his dick go the moment you feel your hand start to cramp up. He jerks slightly, caught off guard by your sudden release. “Told you to stop trying me.”

“Clean yourself up~” You shoot him a look, wiping your cum-sticky hand off his chest as you ease yourself off his body and slide off the bed.

“Fuck you…” You hear him mumble under his breath with a laugh as you search the sheets for your phone, panties, and top before making your way to the bathroom to pee.

“What!?” You give him a look back, the fakest mean scowl you can muster up right now.

“Nothing— Fuck…” The back of his head hits the pillow again as he exhales deeply.

"Oh, okay! Like I won’t sit my ass on your chest and kill you. Talk to me nice." You fire back playfully, slipping on your top after giving up on the search for your panties— probably somewhere tangled up in the sheets.

Finding your footing, you cross the room to unplug the diffuser you left on throughout the night. With a gentle click, its light shuts off. You take a moment to gather yourself before stepping out and closing the door firmly behind you, leaving him to figure out what the hell just happened. You too are going to need a few minutes alone to yourself after this one.

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reignpage · 6 hours ago

Text

The Other Woman

Pt 1

The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true.

Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting.

That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers.

You keep reminding yourself of that.

Satoru needs this.

He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by.

Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do.

So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?

Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.

All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for.

Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?

It can’t be the latter, right?

Because there’s nothing to be worried about.

Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here.

He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm.

You’re the wife.

You’ve got the ring to prove it.

He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other.

There’s nothing to be done.

You can’t interrupt.

Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet.

Eventually, the night draws to its natural end.

People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back.

Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell.

“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”

Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside.

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him.

So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul.

“Ready to go home?”

Satoru nods.

But he’s looking at a seat in the back.

A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry.

You’re just the woman he did.

#jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk drabble #jjk oneshot #Gojo Satoru #Gojo angst #Gojo x reader #Gojo oneshot

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lemonlover1110 · 16 hours ago

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Summary: Satoru is your best friend's boyfriend, you shouldn't like him.

Warnings: MDNI, Angst, Cheating (on Satoru, not from reader), Smut, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Fluff, Hair descriptions for reader

*This is another commission for @mew4-ever18, y'all can thank her again! I hope you guys enjoy because it's truly a wild but fun ride🙂‍↕️

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You’re not sure why you sit with them instead of just being in your room. They’re here for your best friend, not you. You have no business being with them. It feels like you’re in high school all over again, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst them.

Every other night you’re fine with them being here, but tonight you’re out of it. Your eyes keep darting to Satoru and Ali, both sitting so close together that you almost feel upset. Ali is your best friend– She’s been by your side for as long as you can remember. She’s like a sister… Yet you have conflicting feelings.

Whenever you look at her and Satoru together, you feel upset. A feeling that is quickly followed by remorse. You shouldn’t like your best friend’s boyfriend; alas, you can’t control your feelings. Even if you do act on your feelings (you only have a tiny crush either way, it’s no big deal), he wouldn’t reciprocate them. Ali is simply stunning– It’s not that you’re ugly, but your whole life you’ve watched her get praised for her beauty. She simply stands out while you’re just there. Just like this moment.

“Hey, are you okay?” You hear your name from Satoru’s mouth, interrupting you from your trance of thoughts. Ali giggles, whispering something in his ear which makes the man chuckle. You unintentionally roll your eyes before nodding.

“Oh my god, guys. I forgot to tell you.” Ali begins, drawing everyone’s attention. There’s a grin on her face as she says, “It’s mine and Satoru’s third month anniversary.”

“Woah, for a moment I thought that you had something important to say.” Suguru, who sits beside you, comments. Ali clicks her tongue, sticking out her middle finger at the man. Suguru chuckles in response.

“It’s important! Satoru is going to propose soon.” She announces, sticking up her left hand. Satoru’s eyes widen, and he scoots away from her on the couch. Though they’re details that you don’t notice. You’re just staring at Ali’s ring finger, knowing that it’ll be adorned by a rock soon enough. You know she’s very influential, and gets what she wants in the end.

“She’s joking.” Satoru quickly clarifies but you know that it’s only a matter of time before Ali gets her way. In all of your years of knowing Ali, you’ve never seen her get turned down. She isn’t serious now, but she’s dropping hints that she wants it to happen soon; if she doesn’t get her way soon, the relationship will come to an end.

“I guess.” Ali chuckles before kissing Satoru’s cheek. It makes you take a deep breath and look away once again. You make brief eye contact with Shoko before quickly looking away as an uneasiness takes over you. You hear Ali ask, “It won’t hurt to think about it, right?”

“You’re still young, you have a lot of time.” Shoko chimes in, earning a glare from your best friend. That wasn’t the input she needed, therefore, Ali looks at you.

“It wouldn’t.” You force the words out of your mouth. You can barely look at Ali’s face. Throughout the day whenever you look at her you just think of last night. You left your room to get some water and heard a rather obscene scene. You are rightfully uncomfortable… But you’re also sad.

You know you have no right to feel sad about this, but you can’t help the feeling. Every time you look at her you just can hear her moan his name over and over again while he groans from pleasure. You froze in place, and heard more than you had to last night. You felt sick, and that memory replaying in your head doesn’t help you.

Your breath hitches as you hear all of them laugh. You look around the room, feeling as if it gets smaller by the second. You can’t stand it. You stand up from the couch, and awkwardly smile. You look back and forth between your best friend and her boyfriend before you tell them,

“I’m going to lay down. I have a lot to do tomorrow.”

No one says anything, letting you leave the room without a protest. It’s not like you fit in the group either way. You feel like absolute shit, but it’s not their fault. Your personality just doesn’t match with theirs, and that’s not on them.

You lock yourself in your room and immediately bury your head in a pillow, letting the tears flow. An overwhelming flux of emotions flows through you. You like to think of yourself as confident, brave, and strong but right now you’re simply the worst.

You shouldn’t like your best friend’s boyfriend and you shouldn’t be upset at the fact that you heard them have sex the night before. Ali’s been with you through thick and thin, and this is how you’re repaying her.

Meanwhile, Satoru is staring at your bedroom door before looking back at Ali. He asks, “Shouldn’t you check up on her? She’s acting weird tonight.”

“That’s just how she is. She’s always a little weird.” Ali rolls her eyes, and a slight frown comes on Satoru’s face. Maybe he shouldn’t overstep, Ali knows you better than anyone but the comment still feels odd.

“Isn’t that rude? She’s your best friend.” Satoru reminds her, and she clicks her tongue.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Satoru is in his mother’s hospital room, watching as the one that gave birth to him sleeps. Suguru sits down next to him, afraid to make conversation since he doesn’t want to wake the woman up. Suguru is just there for emotional support.

Satoru doesn’t know what happened. He was on his way to visit his girlfriend, and his father suddenly called. His mother was ill, and they were on the way to the hospital. And here he is now… Waiting to talk to her. They’ve been slipping her in and out of the room to run tests on her, and the moments that she’s in the room she can’t stay awake.

Satoru has been spending most of his days at the hospital for the past week. He’s sick of it, but he’s not leaving his mother alone– She wouldn’t be alone either way, his father is also practically living in the hospital, but Satoru still won’t leave. He texts Ali to kill time, though the conversations quickly get boring and he has to frequently change the topic.

“I’m going to get something to eat.” Suguru says, standing up from his seat. He’s been glancing at Satoru’s phone, snooping in a conversation that doesn’t concern him whatsoever. A conversation that’s too boring for him to keep reading, which is a lot to say.

“I’ll come with.” Satoru stands up as well, following Suguru’s lead. Satoru cracks his knuckles as they leave the room, commenting, “I’m so bored in there.”

“I saw you talking to Ali–” Suguru quickly bites his tongue when he realizes that he’s admitted to snooping. He can’t shut up now, he’s already admitted to his crime, he might as well say what’s on his mind. Suguru throws his arm over Satoru’s shoulder, slightly leaning on him as they walk to the elevator. “She’s pretty, bro. I’ll give you that but… She’s kind of superficial.”

“Why are you staring at my phone?” Satoru side-eyes his best friend, and Suguru shrugs. Satoru rolls his eyes at the lack of response before quickly defending his girlfriend. “You know she’s better in person.”

“She’s not. She only ever talks about herself, and it’s never something interesting.” Suguru points out, which makes a frown appear on Satoru’s face. That isn’t true at all– At least Satoru hasn’t noticed and he’s quick to pick up on stuff. Suguru continues trying to get his point across, “And I know she has… What, two million followers on Instagram? Like yeah, she’s pretty but apart from that she has nothing.”

“She has other qualities.” Satoru says as they both get to the elevator. He presses on the downwards arrow button, and they begin the long wait for either elevator.

“Like what? Please name one.” Suguru responds, and Satoru takes a minute to think about it. The elevator opens, and the men step aside to let the people out before entering the lift. The conversation dies down at that moment since it’s awkward to talk about Ali’s lack of personality when three other people surround them.

When they get to the first floor, Suguru brings up the topic again. Satoru’s annoyed, unwilling to listen at this point, and it’s written all over his face but Suguru does not care, “You deserve better. She’s not the type you’d want to marry.”

“How would you even know that?” Satoru scoffs, and Suguru rolls his eyes. Suguru knows that Satoru isn’t going to actually listen. Satoru is defensive about this, and Suguru can’t entirely blame him. Ali is still his girlfriend regardless, Suguru knows that he’d react the same way if Satoru began to bad talk Shoko.

“She treats her best friend like shit. She treats someone that she’s known her whole life like shit, and you think that’s the woman you should marry?” Suguru answers, which makes Satoru roll his eyes.

“Let’s just drop it.” Satoru ends up saying, and Suguru sighs defeatedly.

“Yeah. Let’s just eat something.” Suguru agrees. He checks the time and realizes he has to get going soon, “I’m leaving you after, I’m going to see Shoko.”

After Suguru leaves, Satoru is left to go back upstairs alone. He doesn’t mind the solitude, it’s not like he was talking to Suguru either way. He’ll probably ponder on Suguru’s words, and try to make an excuse for his girlfriend. Though if Satoru is being honest… He doubts the relationship is going to last long. He’s turned a one night stand into a regular thing– But maybe there’s a future in the relationship. He likes to be optimistic about things, even if it’s a relationship that doesn’t have much of a future.

“Satoru!” He’s met by a voice that catches him off guard. He’s a little surprised to be met by his girlfriend, but a smile comes to his face as he sees her face. Though the smile fades when he looks over her outfit.

Satoru isn’t one to police what his girlfriend wears. He’s fine with whatever that makes her happy. He’s not the type to get jealous or control that aspect of her life… But he recognizes when an outfit is inappropriate for an occasion.

She wears a red cut out dress, as if she’s about to go out clubbing. She smiles brightly at him, and Satoru can’t help but feel bad. She’s a little ditzy sometimes. She doesn’t mean any harm.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru sounds rather awkward, something that she doesn’t seem to notice. Satoru would be more welcoming if she looked a little more decent for the place.

“I just want to visit my mother-in-law.” She says which makes Satoru cringe. He won’t correct her, he knows she’s just joking. He thinks she’s just joking. She gives him a tight hug, something that a few minutes ago he thought would be comforting; it’s anything but… But it’s not her fault.

“She’s sleeping.” Satoru answers as he pulls away. Ali pouts, mimicking a sad expression. It feels like she’s mimicking considering how she exaggerates it. No– Satoru is just overthinking everything after his conversation with Suguru. The dumbass was trying to brainwash Satoru.

“Do you want to go out to dinner then?” She asks, as if it’s the only reason why she’s here. Satoru shakes his head which makes a slight frown appear on the woman’s face.

“I already ate something at the cafeteria.” Satoru responds.

“I’ll go get something then. I’m hungry.” She replies, and Satoru tries not to question it. Did she come here for the sole purpose of stealing Satoru’s attention? No, he’s just letting Suguru get to his head. Though he’d admit that it’s odd for her to show up at the hospital and immediately ask him out to eat.

She bites down her lip before asking Satoru, “Do you want to come with?”

“I’m going to my mom’s room. You can come back after you’re finished.” Satoru answers, and she rolls her eyes. Satoru is going to pretend like he didn’t catch that weird reaction. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him. She leaves without a word, letting Satoru walk back to his mother’s room to wait by her side.

Satoru is sure he’s just reading into things as he sits down besides his mother once again. Stupid Suguru got in his head. The idiot has a way to mess with Satoru, it works ninety percent of the time. Though Satoru knows that he can’t entirely blame Suguru since the man just mentioned certain behaviors that Satoru himself noticed. Ali is quite a bitch with you, and if Satoru were anyone else, he’d give you the advice to cut her off.

Perhaps you’re just sticking around because you’re roommates with Ali. He doesn’t know the extent of your relationship either, he’s barely even scratched the surface so it’s not a matter that he has an opinion on. Ali is rising to fame as an influencer, and she’s letting the attention get to her head so maybe this is just some new behavior on her end.

Satoru begins to question every little thing about Ali in the span of thirty minutes. Maybe she really is superficial like Suguru claims– Who is Satoru even trying to convince? Ali is most definitely superficial, he’s known about this since their very first date.

He grabs his phone to distract himself, he’s currently questioning his relationship because of Suguru’s dumb words. He can’t let the little shit get to his head, Suguru loves to do this every time Satoru has a girlfriend and it always ends up with Satoru breaking up with his girl.

Satoru’s eyes narrow as he sees a new story from Ali. His thumb hovers over the screen as the man builds up the courage to click on it. She’s posing seductively for the camera, and Satoru sighs as he sees the story from a couple of minutes ago. Maybe it’s just a video from a couple of weeks ago; she’s just posting content to keep her followers engaged.

Satoru taps on the screen, seeing she’s posted multiple things in the last thirty minutes. Before getting to the hospital and while she’s clearly in the building. Just five minutes ago she posted a mirror selfie in the hospital bathroom, and Satoru can’t help but frown. She’s a bit ditzy but she can’t be this unaware, right?

It clicks in his head at that moment. Suguru isn’t trying to brainwash him, he’s just pointing out what’s fairly obvious. Ali isn’t here to actually check up on Satoru’s mom, she’s here for another reason. She just wants Satoru’s attention.

He stands up from his chair and walks out of the room. He can’t sit there knowing she’s making a fool out of herself, and in the process, embarrassing him. He has to talk to her, ask for her to leave before she makes a complete and utter fool out of him as well.

Satoru gets to the cafeteria quickly, his eyes searching around the place for his girlfriend. Luckily, he doesn’t have to look for too long before his eyes land on her as she poses for a photo. She’s treating the hospital cafeteria as a photo studio, he can’t look at her for too long without embarrassment filling him inside. His eyes don’t wander too far before landing on an all too familiar face.

Satoru’s breath hitches, gulping as he stares back at his father. His father’s eyes then fall on Ali. Satoru just should turn around and not acknowledge her at all– If the situation is embarrassing now, he can only imagine it’s ten times worse if his father finds out that this oblivious woman is Satoru’s girlfriend.

“Pookie! Come here!” Ali yells once her eyes fall on Satoru, making it loud enough for everyone to hear. Satoru can still turn around and pretend like he doesn’t know her, especially since he sees his father’s brow furrows. Yeah… It’s best if Satoru turns around and apologizes later.

“Satoru! Are you ignoring me?!” She calls out as she walks over to the man. Satoru freezes in his spot, making eye contact with his father who shakes his head disappointedly.

“Allison, now it’s not the time.” Satoru says through gritted teeth, not being able to even look at her.

“What? What are you saying?” She sounds offended, and frankly, she should be. Satoru looks ashamed to be near her because he is. He feels all eyes on him since Ali isn’t exactly someone that blends into the crowd. Is this what it feels to be self-conscious?

Satoru grabs her hand and practically drags her out of the place. She posters him, demanding he tell her what’s going on the entire time until they’re finally outside of the building. Satoru lets go and she crosses her arms, huffing and puffing as Satoru runs a hand through his hair.

He can’t lose his cool.

“Why are you here?” He asks, taking a deep breath to ensure he remains calm and collected.

“I told you–” She begins only to be quickly interrupted by Satoru.

“Why are you actually here? Actually. First of all you come here looking like– That. You tell me you want to see my mother but immediately ask me to go out and get something together. Instead of coming back up you begin to smugly post on your social media,” Satoru is too frustrated to care about the words that leave his lips. “You’re posting for your millions of followers while you’re in a hospital. You’re supposed to be visiting my mother and you look like this.”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” She’s trying to play dumb, looking down at the attire that is clearly inappropriate for the occasion. She’s ignoring everything else, knowing that she can easily win the argument if she only focuses on one detail.

“For fuck’s sake, Allison. This is a hospital not a club. You’re here to visit my sick mother, or what? Did you have other plans tonight?” Satoru argues and she scoffs.

“Excuse me for trying to be a good girlfriend. For the record, I do want to check up on my future mother-in-law. Next time I’ll just leave you alone.” She tries to sound threatening which makes Satoru roll his eyes. Before he can get another word in, she begins to walk away. She’s not going back inside, opting to walk to her car instead.

Satoru doesn’t care to stop her, instead he’s agreeing with everything Suguru mentioned. Maybe he should reconsider everything about this relationship. But first… He has to go back inside and face his father.

As Ali and Satoru’s six month mark comes by, you notice that Satoru comes around less often. Satoru, who would come around every few days, barely shows up every two weeks. You think it started after Ali began to joke about getting engaged, but you know why Satoru is distant. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

You remember catching her before going out, telling you that she’s about to go meet Satoru at the hospital– Before you could even question her outfit she told you that she was hoping he’d take her out to eat. It’s shocking that he didn’t break up with her right then and there, but you guess that he likes her so much that he can’t bring himself to end things.

Though as you walk past her bedroom, you hear that some things don’t change. No matter how bad she screws things up, this detail will never change. They could be a little less loud though, they’re not alone. Or they could simply go to Satoru’s apartment since he lives alone. But no, they choose to come here.

You should probably cover your ears as you walk to the kitchen to get some water, but you’re unphased by this. It’s not the first time it happens, and it certainly won’t be the last. You won’t lie and say that you aren’t uncomfortable by the sound of it, and perhaps you’re searching for an apartment to move away soon because of how upsetting it is. But you’re slowly getting used to it.

“Oh, fuck! It’s so good!” She moans and you let out a sigh. She has no consideration for you. It’s fine, you’ll go back to your room and put on some headphones to block it out. But you freeze in your steps when you hear a voice that is not the one of her boyfriend.

You feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest as you come to the realization– But no, you’re not going to get involved. You grab your glass of water and walk back to your bedroom, locking the door.

You plop down on the bed, grabbing your phone to check on your social media. You have a feeling that Ali isn’t there with Satoru, and you want to check what he’s doing tonight. Satoru usually posts what he’s doing for the night in the most subtle ways. If he hasn’t posted anything, then he’s probably with Ali and you should ignore the whole situation; but you’re quickly proven right when you see Satoru posting with Suguru.

The pictures could be from a different night though, but you notice that they were posted just a few minutes ago. Your eyes are wide, hands shaky as you stare at the picture. Regardless if they’re from nights ago or tonight, Satoru couldn’t have posted this while he’s getting busy with Ali.

You turn off your phone and close your eyes at the realization that your best friend is cheating on her boyfriend.

You try to convince yourself that the previous night is a misunderstanding. You’re just getting the situation wrong, Ali would not do that to her boyfriend. But your best friend quickly proves you wrong when you walk out of your bedroom and see a random man in your kitchen, looking most indecent. He’s covered in love bites, confirming that you weren’t wrong in your assumptions

You almost feel like a prude for covering your eyes when you look in his direction– You would think she would try to hide it the best she could, but she doesn’t care. She’s letting him walk around freely in your apartment, even though you know she’s awake.

“Allison.” You knock on her bedroom door, and within a few seconds she opens it. Her sandy blonde hair is neatly kept, letting you know that she’s been awake for a while. She’s had enough time to get ready so she’s certainly had enough time to kick the random man that’s in your house out.

“Hi…” She bites her lip, looking guilty as ever. Just one swift look at you, and she knows that you’re not happy with her. She grabs your hand and pulls you inside before shutting the door. She doesn’t want her loverboy to hear what she has to say.

“Ali, what did you do?” You’re stern, making it clear that this isn’t a situation that you’re willing to laugh about. Maybe if Satoru deserved it you could turn a blind eye to this, but you can’t. Satoru is a great boyfriend to her.

“I’m sorry.” Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she mutters an apology. An apology that should be to Satoru and not you. “I don’t know what came over me… I told him I loved him and he just– Just ignored me.”

“Ali, that’s no reason to betray your boyfriend.” You argue, and she buries her face between her hands. She cries, only making you feel guilty for even questioning her actions. You cross your arms and look away, refusing to feel guilty for her disloyalty.

“Please don’t tell him– I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.” She pleads and you feel a heavy weight settle in your heart. No, you should tell him. Satoru doesn’t deserve this.

Ali wraps her arms around you, resting her face on your shoulder as she continues to sob. “Please, you’re the only person I can count on.”

“Ali–” You begin, but you cut yourself off. You take a deep breath, before agreeing, “Fine. I’ll keep your secret.”

Guilt is eating you alive. The very next day, Satoru comes over and you can’t look him in the eye. You ignore him the entire time, and he notices something is up with you, but he won’t question it. If you don’t want to talk to him, then it’s your own issue.

You feel like the responsibility of confessing to him is on your shoulders. But you don’t want to betray your best friend by doing so. She’s made her own decisions about her relationship, if you snitch the blame shouldn’t fall on you… But you still feel like it isn’t your position to tell. You’re not friends with Satoru at all, you’re friends with Ali. You feel like you’d be betraying her, not only because she’s your best friend but also because you happen to like her boyfriend.

You’re nearly driving yourself insane as you think about it. Ultimately, you decide to stay out of it. Satoru is going to find out in his own way eventually; you’re a firm believer that the truth always comes to light eventually, and in this situation you refuse to be the catalyst. And you certainly don’t want to lose your friendship by telling him.

That is until the doorbell rings, a little later than usual on a Tuesday night. Ali isn’t home, leaving you alone to welcome the uninvited guest.

“Satoru, what are you doing here?” You question, surprised at his presence. He should know that Ali is at a brand event right now, after all, she’s gloating about it on any and every social media platform. “Ali isn’t here right now. She won’t be here in a while.”

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you.” He confesses, and you feel your stomach churn. You feel nauseous as guilt takes over you. Does he know? Is that why he’s here? He’s most definitely here to question you, and you feel nervous.

“Oh… What is it?” You try to smile to hide the fact that you’re freaking out. But it comes off as disingenuous, and Satoru is not an idiot that won’t notice it. He’ll choose to ignore it though.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you move to the side, inviting him to the apartment. He steps inside, and looks around the place. There’s a different vibe to the apartment when Ali is gone… It feels oddly comforting.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You offer as you shut the door. But he shakes his head, and you feel oddly relieved by that answer. He’s not going to be here for a long time, so he’s not going to bring it up.

Before saying anything, he takes a seat on the couch. He looks around the place for another minute, and he notices that you choose to stand instead of taking a seat. You couldn’t make it any more obvious. He clears his throat before speaking up, “Is everything okay between us?”

“Yeah! Yeah, why wouldn’t they be?” You’re stumbling over words, making your statement sound false. He’s quick to spot the lie, and a frown comes to his face. You can’t keep lying to him, you know.

“Why–”

“She’s cheating on you!” You blurt out, and to your surprise, he looks unphased. You feel the need to explain yourself after his lack of reaction, a response from your nerves. “I swore I was going to stay out of it when I heard her with her friend last week– I thought it was you two again but then I realized that it wasn’t you, and I couldn’t look you in the eye after it. I didn’t want to say anything because she’s my friend but you’re a really good guy–”

And as you ramble, you fail to notice that he’s stood up and he’s taken your hands into his. He’s squeezing your hands to make you calm down as you explain your side of the story. You’re not guilty in any of this, you’re just too damn good of a friend.

“Hey, hey. I’m not mad at you.” He cuts you off when he realizes you’re on the verge of tears. If he’s being honest, he was expecting something like this to happen with her. He’s been waiting for the right moment to end things, and luckily he has the best excuse now.

“I should’ve told you sooner, I’m sorry.” You still apologize. You feel your face get warm as you realize he’s holding your hands, making you jerk them out of his grasp. “But please, don’t tell her I told you.”

“I promise I won’t.” He responds. “Thank you so much for telling me.”

“Satoru, please don’t tell her I told you.” You ask of him once again, and he nods in response. And though the weight is lifted off your shoulders, another worry begins to settle in. But you try to convince yourself that you’ll be fine. If this marks the end of your friendship with Ali, then so be it. In the end, you did the right thing.

Satoru messages Ali on a Friday night, making sure that you’re out of the apartment before coming over. The message gets Ali excited since she thinks everything is going back to normal, especially since Satoru has been acting weirder than usual. The honeymoon stage is supposed to last longer than six months, but for some reason their relationship is going through a dry spell.

Ali begins to get ready for what she expects is going to be a steamy night. She checks the time every five minutes, waiting for Satoru to finally show up. While she promised you that she wouldn’t do it again, she’s not the type to keep a promise; especially when her needs aren’t being met.

Meanwhile, Satoru decides how he’s going to break the news… Should he be gentle? He won’t lie and say that he isn’t butthurt about her disloyalty. He’s been thinking about ending things with her for a while, but it hurts his ego to know that she cheated on him. Maybe he should be harsh with her, after all, cheating is not a mistake one should take lightly. And Satoru is certainly mad at the offense.

He’s set on making this as quick and easy as possible, so he’ll be calm with her. He’s grown to not care for her, so being angry will just waste his time. Sure, his ego is hurt but not enough to waste minutes of precious time. He takes a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

“Pookie! I’m so happy that you’re here!” Ali exclaims immediately as she opens the door. She throws her arms over Satoru, hugging him tightly. Satoru does not return the hug, something that she doesn’t seem to notice.

They step inside, and Satoru awkwardly places his hands in his pockets. He’s not unfamiliar with a breakup, but it’s still awkward. Ali walks to the kitchen to get something to drink for him. Something sweet, just how he likes it.

“I’ve been thinking about you so much. I miss you.” She begins, and Satoru thinks about how to lay it on gently. She begins to tell him about a brand trip that she’s been invited to, and all the magnificent details.

“Here.” She smiles brightly at him, handing him something to drink. Satoru hesitantly takes it from her hand, swirling the drink in his hand but not daring to bring it up to his lips. She takes a seat on the couch, waiting for him to join her. Satoru remains standing though. “You’ve been so quiet lately.”

“Yeah…” Satoru sounds awkward, but he knows that she won’t pick up on it. Satoru walks to the kitchen to put the drink on the counter, he’s not thirsty right now.

“Is everything okay?” Ali asks, and Satoru slowly walks back to her. Her eyes keep going back and forth between him and the couch, but Satoru is opting to stand.

“My friend saw you with another guy in a compromising situation.” He finally admits, making her eyes go wide. A simple look at her, and Satoru knows that she’s ready to deny the situation. He has no proof, why is he questioning her loyalty?

“I– I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She begins, immediately giving it away that she’s guilty. She’s as pale as a ghost, something that almost earns a chuckle from Satoru in the very tense situation. He forgets about his hurt ego when he sees her reaction.

“Don’t lie to me. He said everything I need to know, and I trust him.” Satoru changes a certain detail, one that will take away all suspicions that would surround you. She’s taken back by this, and she’s not sure how to respond. She stands up from her seat, taking a step near the man.

“I only did it because you–” She’s getting defensive over her wrongdoings. Sure, she did it but she had a damn good reason– At least that’s what she thinks. “I told you I loved you and you–”

“I can’t tell you I love you when I don’t.” Satoru cuts her off, and her face gets red from embarrassment. She’s still going to hold her head high and defend her actions, even if there’s no good explanation for her decisions. “I was going to end things with you eventually, but what you’ve done is unforgivable. I liked the possibility of us being friends but… I don’t think I can do that either.”

“Satoru, we can talk about this.” Ali begins when she realizes that Satoru won’t care for any reasoning. He’s set on ending things. She’s stepping toward him, and when she’s within reach, she grabs his hands. “We can work things out, let’s not throw everything away–”

“You threw everything away. There’s no way in hell I’d get back with you after you cheated.” He interrupts her once again. It’s just like Suguru said, she’s very superficial. “You told me you loved me, yet you went with the first guy you could find because I needed some time. What does that say about your character or your feelings toward me? Do you even care about me?”

“I do! I was just– Feeling so low. I was tipsy and made a mistake.” She tries to explain her side, and Satoru takes his hands from her grasp. He doesn’t want to spend another minute here to hear stupid excuses for horrible actions– Horrible actions that hurt his ego but he doesn’t care about as much as he should. He was over with the relationship for a while now.

“I don’t care for a reason. This is over.” Satoru says, taking a step backwards. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. We’re both mature enough to not make this a bigger deal than it has to be.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but Satoru walks away before she can get a word out. He doesn’t care enough to hear what she has in mind, so she’s forced to swallow her words.

You’ve never seen Ali as devastated as she is now. She’s crying on your shoulder, telling you how much she regrets her actions. It’s good to hear that she’s learned from her mistakes, but you feel extremely guilty knowing that your best friend is heartbroken because you couldn’t keep a secret. Deep down, you know you did the right thing but still feel bad while your best friend is sobbing over her now ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do– He was so perfect.” She sobs, and you hear your heart breaking. You should’ve just bit your tongue about it.

You have conflicting feelings for Satoru, but you were rooting for them. You’d never wish harm on your best friend, and you didn’t tell him with the hopes that they’d break up. Cheating isn’t something that you can keep quiet about, even if it’s a mistake from your best friend.

“You’ll be okay, Ali. He wasn’t worth it.” You embrace her, hand rubbing her back to soothe her. You don’t believe the words leave your lips, but you’ll say just about anything to comfort her. You know her, she’s more upset about the fact that she got dumped than her so-called love for Satoru.

“You’re such a liar! He was perfect!” She cries, and you can’t argue with it. You’re at a loss of words– What’s the next step that you should take? You can’t reprimand her and remind her that these are the consequences of her actions. “He’s blocked me everywhere. I’ve been trying to message him on social media but I can’t find his accounts.”

“Maybe you should let this go. There’s no way to go back from this.” You try to tell her, but your words fall on deaf ears. You know her, she’s not listening to anything she doesn’t want to hear. Ali wants something, and she’ll get it no matter the cost.

She’s looking up at you with glossy eyes, desperate to get what she wants. You know the look in her eyes. She’s determined to get back with him, and she needs your help. Before she can mutter something out, you speak, “No. I’m not getting involved.”

“Please– Please, please, please. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She pleads, putting her hands together to beg. You look away, not willing to fall for her trap. You feel the guilt of telling Satoru, slowly eat you alive; you know you did the right thing, but why do you feel so bad?

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea, and you’re a pretty girl. He’s not all that.” You answer, once again not believing a single word you say. You have to make her drop this absurd idea of getting back with Satoru though, and you’re willing to make up any lie.

She takes her head off your shoulder, dramatically crossing her arms and pouting like a child. You let out a sigh, knowing that this stupid idea of getting back with Satoru is not getting dropped any time soon.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like him.” She murmurs, and you feel your face get hot. You don’t say anything because you’d surely give away your feelings by uttering a single word.

“We’ll talk again when you grow up.” You stand up from the couch, planning to leave her behind to sort out her intense emotions. But just as you’re about to walk away, she speaks up,

“Please, do this one thing for me and then I’ll leave you alone.” And you look back at her, the desperation in her eyes getting to you. She’s in this position because of you. The least you can do is help her out.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips before you mutter out, “Fine.”

Ali has an insane power over you, and it’s clear when she strings you along in her ridiculous plan. Though there is no plan, she just wants you to show up at Satoru’s place and beg. She can’t show up anymore since he threatened her with a restraining order (thinking about it, you’re not sure why you agreed to come), so she pushed you to show up.

Though you aren’t exactly doing what she wants you to do.

You texted Satoru in the morning, asking him if you could meet up to talk. Surprisingly, he agreed. You have no idea how to proceed though. How will you even bring up the topic without getting completely turned down?

Your mind is racing to find the answer as you sit down outside the café. You’re bouncing your leg, feeling your nerves rise as you wait for Satoru’s arrival. Ali is inside, trying to hide as her stupid plan unravels. You’re like her puppet, and you fail to notice.

“Hi.” You’re startled by a welcoming voice. You look up to find Satoru with a subtle smile on his face. You stand up to greet him, though he assures you it isn’t necessary.

His eyes look you up and down, and your face gets hot at the mere thought that he’s checking you out– No, it’s absurd. He wouldn’t be into you in any way. Ali is his type, and you’re nothing like her.

“I’m going in. Do you want anything? I heard you also like sweet stuff.” Satoru offers, and you’re about to shake your head since you don’t want Satoru spending a single cent on you; but then you remember Ali is also inside.

“I’ll get it, what do you want?” You quickly ask and he raises a brow.

“It’s fine, I need to walk a little more before stuffing my face.” He replies, and you insist. He lets out a chuckle at your insistence before telling you, “I’ll ignore Allison, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh– You know about that.” You awkwardly respond, and Satoru nods.

“You don’t think I’m dumb enough to not know, right? You’re too good to her, you wouldn’t reach out even though–” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. He doesn’t want to embarrass you. “I know you’re here for her.”

“Then why did you come?” You question, earning a shrug for him. Before you can pressure him to give you a proper answer, he walks inside the café to get himself a treat. You take a seat once again, and instead of focusing on your initial goal, your mind fills up with questions.

He’s not here because he likes you… Right? No. Absolutely not. You quickly shake that thought out of your head. It’s not that you’re not beautiful, but compared to Ali you’re nothing. Your whole life you’ve always come second to her, and this situation is no different. Even if Satoru were to make a move on you, it’d be to get some sort of revenge on Ali.

As your mind races and goes through every possible scenario, Satoru comes back with a coffee and two treats. He places a delicious dessert in front of you before sitting down across from you. Your eyes get big at the sight of the sweet dish, your mouth salivating. It sure manages to push away any and all thoughts that were flooding your brain.

“What is this?” You ask, and he looks like he’s fighting back a smile.

“Just thought you might like it.” He acts unbothered. You lick your lips, about to taste the dessert but you end up holding back. You simply watch him sip on his beverage. You’re reminded that you’re here to help Ali out.

“How have you been holding up? Has the breakup been hitting you hard?” You ask, though you know the question is useless. Satoru has never looked better. A great weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and it’s noticeable.

“Sure, you can say that.” He chuckles, taking the question as a joke. “Give me your proposal. What is she offering?”

“Apologies.” There’s an unintentional mocking tone in your voice. Satoru’s brows raise as he picks up on it, but he quickly assumes that you don’t do it on purpose. “She really is sorry, Satoru. She regrets her decision, and she really misses you.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says, and before you can say anything, he speaks up again, “I still don’t want anything to do with her. You of all people should know that cheating isn’t the only thing that led to this.”

“Ali is a good person… She’s just out of it sometimes.” You defend her, and Satoru laughs. “She misses you so much, and it hurts to see my best friend in this much pain.”

“You’re too good for her.” He replies, and you hate to hear those words. She’s your best friend, you’re not too good for her– You’re just doing everything that a best friend should be doing.

“I’m doing what I should be doing. She loves you, Satoru.” You point out, and he scoffs. She told him that she loves him, but that’s hard to believe. Satoru’s gotten to know Ali, and he knows that she has a certain way with words. She’s not very convincing to Satoru though.

“Why should you be involved in this? You’re a great friend, but she’s not one. If she was, she wouldn’t get you involved in this.” Satoru responds, and you sigh. You don’t want to begin that conversation, mainly because you know there’s some truth to his words.

“I should get involved because she’s suffering.” You argue, and Satoru wants to laugh. Suffering, right. She’s too self-absorbed to care about someone else.

“Can’t she just get a new boyfriend? Why does it have to be me?” He asks, and you furrow your brows.

“What do you mean? Who else would it be?” You question. “You can’t easily fall in and out of love.”

“She’s not in love with me though. She just likes attention and expensive things, something a lot of other men can offer.” Satoru points out, making you bite your lip. He’s not entirely wrong but you still choose to defend your best friend.

“She does love you, Satoru. She’s been crying to me about this for so long. She misses you.” You defend her, and Satoru clicks his tongue.

“Will you taste the dessert I got you? I want to see if you like it.” Satoru tries to change the topic, and you puff out a breath. It’s not going to kill you to taste it, and you’ll quickly go back to the subject.

You take a small bite, and your eyes light up as you begin to savor the food in front of you. Satoru is watching your every move, finding your expression amusing. For the second, you completely forget why you’re here.

“Is it good?” Satoru asks, and you excitedly nod your head. It’s good to know that he made the right decision. He watches you take another bite before standing up. The topic of Ali is tired, and he knows that it’s the only type of conversation he’ll get from you today. He knew that the whole reason you asked him to meet up was to talk about Ali, but he doesn’t regret coming.

“Where are you going?” You sound funny, your mouth full of food as Satoru grabs his drink. It’s obvious he’s leaving, but you ask with the slight hope that you’re wrong.

“For the record, I came here because it’s always nice to talk to you.” Satoru tells you, and you raise your eyebrows in confusion. He clears his throat before pointing inside, “We can meet up again soon, just not with her around.”

“Wait–! We’re not done here.” You try to stop him but Satoru turns his back to you and begins to walk away.

Unluckily for Ali, you’re not running after him to talk. He’s made his decision and you aren’t willing to interfere in their relationship anymore. And unluckily for you, you know that Ali won’t accept the decision and continue to press you about the matter.

Satoru furrows his eyebrows as he sees the long line of the shop. He thought that showing up early would reduce the amount of people in the place, but he’s been proven wrong. He can’t help but sigh, knowing that he’ll spend at least twenty minutes waiting just to get a treat. But all the time in line is worth it.

Satoru looks around the place, hoping that he’ll find something– Even if he stands so far away that he can’t make out anything he sees. He freezes when he sees a familiar head of curly brown hair, way ahead in line. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before stepping forward.

“Which one should I get?” You mutter yourself, mouth watering as your eyes scan all the desserts behind the glass.

“The macaroons look good.” You’re startled by an all too familiar voice. You put your hand over your heart, feeling as if it’s about to beat out of your chest as you look at him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, as if it’s impossible for you to end up in the same place. You know he has a sweet tooth as well, it shouldn’t be a surprise to find him here. You look back, and see the long line behind you. “Oh, you’re using me to cut line, I see.”

“Can’t you believe I just wanted to greet you?” Satoru responds, and you chuckle.

“It’s fine. You can use me.” You respond, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s weird to talk to him without using Ali as an excuse. “I’ve been waiting for a while, it’s fine.”

“Did you just get off work?” Satoru asks and you nod. “What do you do? I’m sorry I never–”

“Hurry up! We’re waiting!” Someone cuts off the conversation, and you feel your face get warm from embarrassment. Satoru glares back at them, as if he has the right. He did cut the line, but he doesn’t care.

“I’ll take two of those.” You tell the worker behind the counter. You don’t even look at the food that you’re pointing at, you just want to get out of line. “Pick what you want.”

His order is more intricate than yours. It’s clear that he would’ve waited an hour if he had to.

“I’ll pay.” He insists when you get to the register, and you want to argue with him that you got yourself covered. But he pays before you can even open your mouth.

“Thank you.” You’re forced to thank him when you exit the store. You expect to go your separate ways, after leaving the place but Satoru offers,

“How about we take a seat? I want to talk to you.”

“Oh– Yeah.” You respond. You bite down your lip before telling him, “I’m a tech analyst, by the way.”

“Huh– Oh, yeah.” Satoru replies. He stares at your face for a moment before letting out a low laugh. “I would’ve never guessed.”

“Well now you know.”

Ali calms down a couple of months after her breakup with Satoru. She certainly leaves you alone about the matter which you’re grateful for. You’re more than willing to help your best friend with any issue, but her relationship with Satoru is a mess you’d rather stay out of.

Knowing Ali, she’s certainly not given up on Satoru. She’s just leaving you out of the mess, and by doing so, she’s completely forgotten about you. Even though you miss your friend, you certainly don’t mind not being involved in her romantic issues.

You know that she’s looking for ways to get close to Satoru again, not knowing that using you again would actually offer some sort of result this time around. But you wouldn’t dare tell her.

It wasn’t something you planned out, it just happened. Your shared love for sweets led you to the same shop in town– And you keep meeting up by chance. There aren't many shops in the area like that one. Sure, you can buy a dessert anywhere, but you won’t find the variety and quality anywhere else in town; it’s what attracts you two to the same place.

You met a handful of times by chance, and each time you began to talk. Conversation flowed smoothly each time, which led you to talk more on the phone. Now you’re texting to meet up, agreeing to grab a sweet treat at least once a week. You slightly feel guilty for meeting him behind Ali’s back, but you know that you aren’t doing anything wrong.

You’re simply friends with Satoru. Everything is completely platonic.

“I got this for you.” Satoru puts down a little box on the table, sliding it over to you. Your eyes narrow as you try to decipher what’s in the box. You wonder what he’s picked for you. While you’ve gotten close, you doubt that he’s really noticed your preferences in sweets.

“You didn’t have to, thank you.” You immediately respond, opening the box to find your favorite dessert. Your eyes widen, a smile coming to your face as you realize that he’s noticed what your favorite kind of treat is. It’s sweet to know that he’s noticed. “I really appreciate it, Satoru.”

“It was no problem.” He smiles back at you. He’s always buying something for you, making you feel special in a way that he’d never guess. You almost feel guilty for never getting him something in return.

“Do you want a bit?” You offer, but he quickly shakes his head. He got it for you because he knows that you like it, but he isn’t particularly fond of the dessert that he got you. You look delighted with his response, making Satoru scoff.

“You do know the place has more, right? It wouldn’t kill you to share either.” He says, and you stick your tongue out at him jokingly. “You can enjoy your yucky dessert alone, don’t worry.”

“Yucky? Really?” You respond and he hums in response. “You sound like a child.”

“I can’t find a more fitting word.” He replies which makes you giggle. He can criticize the food all he wants, as long as you don’t have to share. Satoru clears his throat before speaking up again, “You know, I was thinking–”

“This is so good.” You unintentionally cut him off as you taste what he got you. You swear you’re in heaven with the first taste. You don’t understand how Satoru doesn’t like it, but it’s fine, you’re happy as long as you don’t have to share. Satoru chuckles at your reaction.

“I really don’t understand why you like it so much. There’s so many other options.” He says, but you don’t pay much attention to what he has to say. And just like that, the courage for what he was going to say is completely gone. “But if it makes you happy.”

“You know something? You’re actually a really picky eater. I never figured you as the type.” You tell him, and Satoru clicks his tongue. You aren’t wrong though. “I did cut you off, didn’t I? What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, dismissing the topic. You furrow your brows, getting curious as to what you interrupted.

“Are you sure?” You question and he nods in response. The reason you’re here today is because Satoru texted you that he wanted to talk about something. You seriously doubt that the reason he’s here is to simply give you a free dessert. “I don’t buy it.”

“You’re right.” He sighs. He bites his lip, fidgeting his fingers. He’s feeling nervous, something that rarely comes to him. Satoru has the right to feel confident in every situation– But he’s not sure how to approach this considering the weird dynamic that you have. He finally spits out, “How about we go on a date? Would you like that?”

“Satoru–” You’re caught speechless. You slowly blink, feeling as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest. Did you hear that right? You begin to laugh, as if Satoru just told you some sort of joke. “You got me.”

“I’m not joking.” Satoru almost sounds offended by your response.

“I– I can’t, Satoru.” You answer, feeling dirty for even saying that. You like him– It’s no longer a stupid crush anymore. After spending time with him, and getting to know him better, you’ve realized that you like him as a person. You’re not just attracted to him. You can picture a future with him, although you shouldn’t.

“Why?” He asks. He knows you like him, he’s known for a long time. It’s clear that you two have chemistry. You didn’t just say no, you specifically told him that you can’t. “If it’s about Ali–”

“I’m sorry.” You stand up. You walk away, leaving your dessert half eaten.

“Should’ve known.” Satoru mutters, quickly followed by a sigh. It’s clear that you like him, but your loyalty towards Ali is stronger.

“Hey… What are you doing here?” Satoru opens the door, only to find you completely distressed. It’s almost midnight, so he’s shocked to find you at his door. You look distressed– It’s clear to him that you’ve just woken up, given that you’re wearing your glasses instead of your usual contacts. “If it’s about earlier–”

“We have to talk.” You cut him off, and Satoru moves to the side to let you in. You take a deep breath before stepping into his apartment. You awkwardly look around the place, wondering why you’re here. You’re listening to your heart instead of your brain, you should turn around and go back to your best friend.

“What do you want to say?” He asks, shutting the door behind him. He steps near you, and you feel your breath get caught up in your chest.

“I was thinking about it… I do like you, Satoru.” You confess, something that isn’t news to Satoru. He’s known for a while. It was clear that you were trying to hide it, so it wasn’t something that concerned him while he was with Ali.

You sigh, “But Ali’s been my friend since childhood. She loves you. I can’t do this to her.”

“Please…” Satoru grabs your hand, putting it over his beating heart. You feel your face get warm, looking up at him to make eye contact. “You shouldn’t be unhappy for her.”

“We make great friends, Satoru. I can’t hurt her like this.” You tell him, hating yourself for the words that leave your mouth. If you were anyone else, you’d jump at the opportunity to be with him, but you can’t do that to your best friend. “I came here to tell you that. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“You know that we’d go really great together.” He tries to convince you, and you know he isn’t wrong. You look into his adoring eyes, feeling your heart skip a beat. “You can’t base your decisions on her feelings.”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter as your hands go to the back of his neck, bringing him down to meet your lips. You’re not apologizing to him, that part is clear to him when your soft lips meet his. You’re listening to your heart and not your mind for once. Though it swells with guilt, the feeling is overshadowed.

Satoru shuts his eyes, giving in to the soft feeling of your lips against his. You pull away, your gaze meeting his adoring eyes for a moment. You shouldn’t, yet your lips meet again. It starts sweet, but his wandering hands escalate things. Your tongue enters his mouth as his hands land on your ass.

You feel as if your body is burning up as your tongue presses against his. You need him in every explicable way. Your body needs more. Satoru picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to his bedroom, gently putting you down on his bed. Are things going too fast? Or has this been brewing up for a while? Either way, things aren’t stopping now.

He pulls away, taking off your glasses and putting them down on his nightstand before focusing all his attention on you. He cups your face and lovingly kisses you as your fingers trace down his body and stop at his sweatpants.

You escalate things by pulling down his sweatpants, unable to waste any more time. You pull away from the kiss. You look up at him with dark, lust-filled eyes. As he pulls away, you push down his underwear.

You shouldn’t be surprised by his size, but he’s bigger than average. Your hand wraps around the base and you give it a couple of strokes before your tongue circles around the tip. You start off slow and unsure, but quickly become confident as you hear a soft moan leave Satoru’s lips.

You lick his length before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.

You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. It’s not how he usually likes to start off things, but right now he swears he’s in heaven with how your mouth feels around his cock. It feels so perfect around him.

Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and he bites down his lip. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by being too loud, even if it is because you’re making him feel good. He stares down at you, watching as you suck him off with no problem, looking so perfect while you’re preoccupied. He sighs, relieved.

You look up at him, wanting his approval. He’s a little too caught up in his own feelings, too engrossed with how your mouth feels around him. He can’t form a sentence to praise you on how good you’re doing.

He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. As gentle as he wants to be with you, he can’t hold back for too long. You’re gagging on his dick, tears filling up your eyes and quickly spilling as he makes you take every inch of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans, watching as a couple of tears leave your eyes. It should be a sin for someone to look so pretty as they begin to cry. He finally lets go of you, allowing you to retake control of the narrative. “Your mouth is too perfect.”

You take his dick out of your mouth, stroking it a couple of times before wrapping your mouth around it again. Satoru’s breath gets caught up in his throat as his release nears.

He shuts his eyes, throwing his head back, groaning in pleasure as his come hits the back of your throat. You take his cock out of your mouth and before you can say a word, his lips land on yours again.

Satoru wastes no time in getting you undressed. He makes sure to praise every inch of your body, kissing every corner. He wants you to know just how much he likes you, and how attractive he finds you. There is no better way to tell you than just by kissing every inch of your body.

“Get on all fours.” He tells you, and you waste no time. Satoru takes a moment to look at your pretty pussy before spitting on it a couple of times.

Satoru aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy, running the tip through your folds and teasing you. Satoru slowly pushes himself inside of you, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. You loudly moan as his thick cock stretches you out.

Satoru’s hands go to your hips, searching for balance before he begins to move. The man can’t help but loudly moan as he feels your tight pussy wrap around him. You’re so perfect, it’s going to drive him insane. He hasn’t properly tasted you yet but he’s surely to get obsessed.

“It’s so good!” You moan, his cock filling you up just right. You hate to admit that you’ve thought about this moment so many times, but you never imagined it’d be this good. It’s hard to feel guilty when your body feels this amazing.

Your back arches as your head presses against the mattress, muffling any noise that comes from your mouth. Satoru slaps your ass as his eyes watch it jiggle with his every movement. He can’t keep his eyes off it.

“You’re so tight.” Satoru tells you through gritted teeth. He holds back on moaning, not wanting to sound too pathetic as he fucks you. It’s hard when your cunt is so nice and tight around him though.

“It’s so good, daddy.” You moan, stumbling over your words. Satoru can die and go to heaven when he hears you call him daddy. Everything you do is so perfect, he can’t believe he’s waited so long to pursue you.

One of your hands goes under and you begin to play with your clit, making you squeeze around his cock. He moans your name out of pure pleasure. He’s surely going to be thinking about this for days on end. He’s never felt like this with anyone else.

“Daddy, it’s so good!” You stop playing with your clit, your hands gripping the silk sheets underneath as your orgasm takes over your body.

“Good girl. You’re doing so good.” Satoru breathlessly praises you, knowing that he won’t last much longer. He isn’t alone though. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, orgasm rapidly approaching.

Your body finally spasms, reaching your peak. Satoru slaps your ass a couple of times, praising you for being so good and so perfect for finishing around his cock. He keeps telling you how perfect you are, moaning your name. He’s making you feel like a goddess.

Satoru’s thrusts become unregulated. It’s hard for him to contain himself, but he doesn’t want this moment to end. He doesn’t want you to come to your senses yet. He wants to stay like this for a while. Alas, he can’t hold himself back forever.

He pulls his cock out, coating your ass with his cum. He swears he hasn’t seen a prettier sight– Apart from your face, of course. But your ass being coated with his cum is a close second.

“That was–” Satoru plops down on the bed beside you, as you lay on your stomach. He’s out of breath, and needs a moment. “Amazing.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, staring at him as he looks at the ceiling.

Maybe you’ll regret it in the morning, but not right now. Right now, you feel euphoric.

Your hand goes to his face, thumb caressing his cheek. He looks back at you so lovingly, and your heart skips a beat.

“We’re not done yet.” You tell him, and a smile comes to Satoru’s face.

He couldn’t agree more.

The sunlight peeks into the room, causing you to open your eyes first thing in the morning. You slowly take in your surroundings, realizing that you’re not back at your place. You feel a heavy arm over your body, cuddling you. It takes you a minute to remember the events of last night before you quickly sit up on the bed.

You feel your face get hot, embarrassment quickly flowing through you. Quickly followed by regret. No, you shouldn’t be here. You do like him, otherwise you wouldn’t have shown up last night… But doing this to your own best friend? You don’t know how you could ever face her again after this.

“Go back to sleep.” A sleepy Satoru mutters, and as much as your sore body wants to lay back down, you can’t. You’re pulling the bed sheets off your body and searching for your scattered clothes. Satoru ends up fully waking up when he realizes what you’re doing. You’re leaving as if this is a one-night-stand.

“Please don’t ever tell anyone that this happened.” You tell him, grabbing your bra from the floor. Satoru’s eyes focus on your ass– Granted, it’s the worst time to focus on your ass, but it’s hard to ignore when it looks so perfect in front of him. Your next words bring him back to reality, “What happened last night shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” He calls out your name, making you freeze in your spot. You’re hesitant to look back at him, but you end up doing it. “You know you don’t regret it.”

“I– I don’t.” You can’t lie to him. You try to continue to get dressed to get out of the apartment as fast as possible. You’re scared that you’re going to commit another mistake if you stay for too long.

“Why don’t you stay?” Satoru asks, and you can’t give him an answer. He knows why, but he needs you to say it for you to realize how ridiculous you sound. “You shouldn’t put yourself second. Ali made her own mistakes, and you shouldn’t pay for them.”

“She’s my best friend, Satoru. She loves you.” You respond, and Satoru scoffs. It’s too early to deal with this. How many times does he have to tell you that she doesn’t love him for you to drop the subject. “I know that she doesn’t deserve another chance with you, but I can’t do this to her.”

“Do what to her? She’s going to move on eventually, and you’re just going to be miserable. You’re passing up on a great relationship for a girl that doesn’t care about you enough.” It’s harsh, but Satoru can’t help but tell you the truth. As painful as it is. If he isn’t harsh with you, you’ll never open your eyes.

“You’re right.” You end up sighing. You take a seat on the bed again, mind heavy with thoughts.

“If you want this to stop now, we can end it now.” He says, reaching over to grab your hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Just know that we like each other, and there’s actually nothing keeping us apart.”

For a long minute, the room is silent. He’s right, as much as you don’t want to admit it. There’s no reason for you to not be together. Ali won’t react well, but you’re not going to let her dictate your life.

“You’re right.” You respond, and you watch as his face lights up. “But please, let’s keep this a secret for now. Until I figure out what to say to Ali.”

“My lips are sealed.”

There’s something up your sleeve, and Ali can’t help but notice. She doesn’t know when it started, but one day she realized that the place was dirty. Dishes were piling up, the floor needed to be mopped and she didn’t have a single article of clean clothes.

Even when you found out that she cheated on Satoru, you continued to do everything for her, so she wonders if something is wrong with you… The place is filthy, time is running out and she refuses to pick up a single dish. You’ve always taken it as your responsibility to do every chore in the house, you can’t just stop now. What could she have possibly done to upset you this time? She tries to talk to you about the subject, but when she knocks on your door, you’re not home.

That’s not the only thing though. When you do come home, she notices you have some expensive items. Items that you’d never willingly spend money on, she knows that much about you. The signs are all there: you’re seeing someone.

“Hi, babe.” Ali startles you when you get home, a little past midnight. You’re a bit disheveled, making it clear what you were up to. She stayed up for you, waiting for you on the couch, and it makes you feel uneasy.

“Hi, Ali.” You sheepishly smile at her, feeling as if you’ve somehow gotten caught. You cover up your tracks damn well, you know that she has no way of knowing that you’re dating Satoru behind her back. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much.” She responds. You feel your breath get caught up in your chest, waiting for her to say something else. You begin to take small, subtle steps to your room as she makes up her mind. “Are you mad at me?”

“No… Why would I be?” You question, though you know why she asks. She’s worried because you’re barely coming around.

“You’re seeing someone then, right?” She asks, standing up from the couch and stepping towards you. You feel your hands get shaky, nerves taking over you.

“No– Why do you ask?” You slightly stumble over your words, and you hope that she doesn’t notice. You hope that Satoru is right about your best friend when he says that she’s too self absorbed to care about anyone else but herself.

“You’re here late and…” She looks you up and down, judgment written all over her face. “You look like that.”

“I just had a rough day.” You claim, trying to play it off. Much to your dismay, she snatches the purse that you hold in your hands. She closely inspects it, trying to check if it’s authentic. You should’ve known better than to accept Satoru’s very expensive gifts.

“It’s real. You wouldn’t spend this much money on a purse.” She points out, and you get increasingly nervous. You snatch the purse back before answering,

“Is it that hard to believe that I would slowly save up for a purse?”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. It’s very clear that you’re seeing someone, but you won’t tell. You’ll come around eventually, she just has to give you the cold shoulder for a while– She’s not too sure if it’ll work this time around.

She dramatically turns away from you and begins to walk to her room, taking small steps to give you time to speak up. But you don’t say anything. On the contrary, you begin to walk to your room as well.

“You’re the worst.” You stick out your tongue at Satoru, getting mad at the 4+ card that he puts down on the deck. You wish you could easily take defeat, but your boyfriend sure loves to brag about his victories. He drives you insane.

“The worst? Why? Because I’m better than you?” Satoru is so smug about it, and you’re filled with rage. You take deep breaths, reminding yourself that this is just a game.

“You suck!” You respond, throwing your cards on the coffee table. Satoru chuckles, watching you stand up and head to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water, making him follow like a lost puppy.

He engulfs you in a hug, filling up your face with kisses. He mutters baseless apologies for his great luck and strategy for the game. You’re trying to push him away, but he’s too overbearing.

“Hi, guys.” You hear and your blood runs cold as you hear an all too familiar voice. You finally manage to stop Satoru, who looks unphased by Shoko’s voice. You’ve been caught, yet he doesn’t seem to care.

“Jeez, have you heard of knocking?” Satoru finally looks at the woman, who holds up the apartment key.

“I came here to pick something up. Suguru left his jacket here.” She looks around for the item she came for, not really questioning why Satoru was kissing you.

“We– We can explain.” You begin, and she furrows her brows in a confused manner as she looks back at you.

“What is there to explain? Satoru told us that you’re dating.” She answers, and you glare at the man that stands right next to you. He looks just as confused as Shoko by your reaction.

“Was I not supposed to?” He questions, and you cross your arms.

“I told you that this is a secret.” You mutter.

“Yeah, a secret from Allison. Not my friends.” Satoru reiterates, and you sigh. So his friends know, great. It’s only a matter of time before your best friend finds out as well. You have to find the right time to break the news to her before she finds out on her own.

“Satoru…” You shake your head disappointedly. You want to show off your relationship as much as possible, so you’re not hiding this because you want to. You’re doing what’s best for your relationship for Ali– As selfish as it is to do this to Satoru.

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood.” He apologizes, as a heavy weight sets on your shoulders. You have to tell her eventually, you can’t keep your relationship a secret forever.

“I have to–” You begin, but you’re cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. Shoko grabs it from the coffee table and hands it to you, a look of annoyance coming to her face on your part. You feel your heart drop, looking back at your boyfriend. “It’s her.”

“Just pick up the phone. She won’t call you unless it’s an emergency.” Satoru tells you. He’s noticed that your best friend rarely communicates with you; granted, unless she needs something from you.

“Hi, Ali.” You answer the phone, stepping away from Satoru because you’re scared that a single breath from him will get you caught. Satoru keeps his gaze on you as you talk to your best friend. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“What happened?” Satoru mouths, but you ignore him as you comfort your best friend. You stay on the line for another minute before hanging up.

“A family member of hers died, and she wants me to go with her back to our hometown.” You answer, and Satoru raises his brows. He won’t ask who, it’s too intrusive. You’re together, but there’s some things about Ali that you refuse to tell him because you feel like you’re telling too much about your best friend.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Satoru isn’t sure how else to respond. You kiss his cheek before walking over to the couch to grab your stuff.

“I have to go. She sounds pretty devastated.” You tell him, and Satoru purses his lips together. The great night that he had planned has been ruined, and for Ali of all people. But he tries to pull his feelings to the side, knowing that there’s a possibility that you’re affected by all of this. After all, you and Ali grew up together.

“Do you need anything? I can–” He begins, only to be interrupted by you.

“I didn’t know him well, he was one of Ali’s uncles and I saw him maybe a handful of times.” You reassure him, somehow managing to read his mind. “But… Can I ask something from you?”

“Anything.” He responds.

“Please refrain from communicating. Right now is not the time to break the news to Ali.”

Satoru is slowly dying inside, knowing that he can’t contact you in any way. For two weeks, he’s forced to blankly stare at his phone, hoping that you’ll send him a message. It doesn’t have to be long, just a sign of life from you.

He’s told his parents about you. It’s obvious that he takes this relationship very seriously, and he sees a future with you– One that he never saw with Ali. Which means he’s miserable knowing that he can’t contact you. He counts down the hours till he gets to know that you’re coming back.

It’s fair to say that he’s overjoyed when you finally call. He wants to pick up the phone immediately, but he doesn’t want to seem desperate by picking up within the first ring. He waits a couple of seconds before bringing up the phone to his ear.

“Hi, baby. I miss you.” Satoru immediately says, not helping his case of not looking desperate. There’s only so much he can do though.

“Hi.” You’re not as affectionate as he is, which lets him know that you’re not alone. He wonders why you’re calling when she’s nearby but at the same time he couldn’t give a damn. As long as he gets to hear your voice, he’s happy. “I’m calling to let you know I’m back home.”

“When can we meet?” He quickly asks, hoping that you’ll say tonight. He’s quickly filled with disappointment when you tell him,

“Are you going to Suguru’s party tomorrow night? How about there?” You suggest. He bites down his lip, holding back a sigh. It’s better than waiting for days on end.

“Yeah… I’ll see you then.” He responds, hoping that you’ll say something more. But you end up hanging up the phone before he can get another word in.

He still can’t help but smile, realizing that he’ll finally see you tomorrow.

Satoru bounces his leg anxiously, waiting for you to finally show up at Suguru’s apartment. You’re late– At least a lot of people are showing up before you which is rare. You usually show up early to things, but you’re still not here. Perhaps Satoru is a little earlier than usual today; he’s simply too excited with the fact that he’ll finally see you. It feels like an eternity since the last time he saw your face.

He can’t wait to hold you or kiss you again, which is why he’s impatient. He’s slowly becoming needy by your side, and he isn’t particularly mad about it.

“Hey–” He excitedly greets you, standing up from the couch to hug you but he freezes in his spot when he sees your best friend right behind you. The smile on his face drops, realizing that his plans for tonight have been delayed even further. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah… Me neither.” You try to play it off. You watch as your best friend happily greets your boyfriend, only to be ignored by Satoru.

“Shoko!” You call out, walking over to her since you don’t want to awkwardly be put in the position of being between Satoru and Ali. No matter what you say to her, she’s still going to do everything in her power to flirt with him. As uncomfortable as it is to know that your best friend is hitting on your boyfriend, you know that you’re doing something wrong by dating him so you won’t intervene.

“How are you, Satoru? I haven’t seen you in a while.” She begins, only for the man to completely ignore her and follow after you. He doesn’t bother to hide it, but he knows that she won’t notice. She thinks that you’re beneath her, she doesn’t think that he’s following after you.

“What is she doing here?” He asks you as he approaches you. He interrupts Shoko as she speaks to you, and Shoko crosses her arms, annoyed that she’s been cut off by Satoru.

“They’re best friends, why wouldn’t she be here?” Shoko argues, and Satoru clicks his tongue.

“I didn’t ask you.” Satoru glares at Shoko. Knowing Suguru, he most definitely didn’t invite Ali.

“She’s feeling a little down and asked if she could tag along.” You answer, and Satoru hates the fact that you’re such a great friend– Especially to such an undeserving woman like Ali. Satoru gives you an unintentional but nasty look and you kiss his cheek, “I couldn’t say no to her–”

“She saw that.” Shoko quickly tells you, and you begin to panic only for Shoko to laugh in your face. “I was joking, but man, that look on your face is priceless.”

“Shoko!” You yell and she laughs even harder than before. You roll your eyes at her before turning your attention to Satoru,

“I think it’s best if we stay away from each other for the night… I’ll come over after the party.” Which makes the man sigh. He got too excited for tonight, only for Ali to ruin it all. “I don’t want her to think something’s up if we’re attached to the hip tonight. She’s still very fragile.”

“Fine.” Satoru agrees. As much as he thinks that Ali is undeserving of you, he won’t go against your wishes. Though his night had suddenly turned sour.

Ali has lost track of time. She’s been chasing around Satoru the entire night, all to no avail. It’s like he’s running away from her. But that doesn’t seem plausible in her head. Why would Satoru want to run away from her?

She asks around, hoping that one of his friends can pinpoint where Satoru is and lead her to him. She doesn’t seem to realize that the majority of the people she talks to are Satoru’s friends, all who know the type of person she is. All of them who luckily keep their mouths shut about you.

“Where is he?” She questions, going upstairs when she comes to the realization that he isn’t anywhere on the first floor. Is he upstairs with somebody else? Surely Satoru hasn’t moved on yet… Right? No, he wouldn’t.

Ali chases after him, hoping to have a conversation with him where she can explain her truth. Her side of things about the very straightforward mistake that she made. She hopes that a couple of tears are going to be able to move him. After all, who can say no to her?

She confidently opens a door, only for her eyes to widen when she sees what’s happening. Her blood runs cold before it begins to boil at the sight. You’re on top of Satoru. You’re kissing him. He’s kissing you back.

No, this can’t be happening. She pinches herself, checking if what she sees is a dream. But no. Satoru has moved on, and with you of all people. How pathetic. Satoru Gojo can get just about any woman he wants and he’d choose you?

“What the fuck?!” She yells, causing you to come to an abrupt stop. Your eyes widen at the sight of your best friend, and you begin to panic. But before you can even get a word out, Ali grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you off Satoru. “You stupid little bitch.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You cry out as she begins to hit you. You’re not doing anything to stop her because it’s something that you genuinely believe you deserve. A good friend wouldn’t date their best friend’s ex-boyfriend.

“Allison, let go of her.” Satoru tries to pull her off you, but he’s unable to unless he uses force. He doesn’t want to harm Ali in any way, knowing that it’ll upset you. Even when she’s pulling your hair and scratching you like a cat.

“You call yourself my best friend and this is what you do?! You’re a stupid homewrecker.” She spits on you, and it drives Satoru over the edge. He’ll deal with the repercussions later but he can’t stand to watch it. He forcibly pushes Ali off you, making her back harshly hit the wall.

“Are you okay, baby?” Satoru cups your face, thumb going over the scratch on your cheek. It’s bleeding. Tears are streaming down your face, completely ignoring what Satoru says as you apologize to your best friend.

“I’m sorry, Ali. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” You sob, but she’s not listening to what you have to say.

A couple of people are gathering around. They heard some commotion, and of course, they had to come around to see. All to add to your embarrassment.

“You stupid bitch!” Ali yells again, trying to reach for you but Satoru doesn’t let her. Someone steps in to hold her back, but that doesn’t stop the barrage of insults that roll off her tongue.

“I’m so sorry.” You continue, trying to pay no mind to the insults that she spews. You’re trying to block them out, but they still hurt like hell.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Satoru tries to get you to look at him, but you keep your focus on Ali. The woman that you’ve betrayed.

Even when she’s taken out of your line of sight, she’s the only thing on your mind. No matter what you do, your friendship will never be the same.

You should’ve known that Ali wouldn’t stop at dragging you by the hair and hitting you. The woman that you’ve lived with for years is vengeful, and she wouldn’t change a thing for you of all people. Though you didn’t do anything to change it because you believed you deserved it.

The very next day, Ali had changed the locks to your shared apartment. When you managed to get inside, you noticed all of your clothes and accessories destroyed all over your room. It was fine. You deserved it. Even though Satoru reassured you that you didn’t, you still believed she was right to do it.

A week later, your car’s tires were slashed, and two of the windows were broken. To top it off, Whore was keyed on it. You called Satoru about it, complaining that you’d get late to work– Something that annoyed Satoru. It was clear who the culprit was, yet you refused to do anything about it because it was Ali. You believed you deserved it even though you didn’t.

Satoru knows that you can stand up for yourself, he’s seen it before, so why can’t you do it with Ali? He knows that you’ve spent a lifetime together, but that’s not a good reason for you to let her walk all over you.

But no matter what he says, you won’t do anything to stop her. You apologize for what she’s done to you. Ali can ruin as many cars as she’d like, he can easily replace them; however, it pains him to see you suffer because of her.

Satoru won’t overstep, not until he receives a call a little after five, and you sound completely distressed.

“I– I can’t do this anymore, Satoru.” You sob, and he quickly becomes alert.

“What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to pick you up?” He asks, quickly searching for car keys to leave and pick you up. Whatever it is, he knows that it’s tied to Ali.

“I’m covered in eggs. Some of her crazy followers know where I work and they–” You sob, and Satoru feels his heart break as you explain the situation. He can only hope that you finally open your eyes and realize the type of person Ali is. “I can’t do this anymore, Satoru. We should end this here.”

“Wait– No. Absolutely not. You’re not letting her win.” Satoru quickly responds as he exits the house. He’s going somewhere– Either to your apartment or your workplace to talk to you. No, he should go to the police station to deal with Ali. She needs to be stopped, and it’s clear that you’re not going to take action.

“I’m not letting her win. I’m tired.” You sound completely defeated. It’s not easy to deal with constant harassment. “I’ve been getting death threats nonstop all week. I’m genuinely scared for my life now.”

“Come live with me.” He offers, but you doubt that it’ll fix anything. “I’ll protect you, but please.”

“It’ll just drag you down with me, Satoru.” You respond, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “I don’t want you to get affected by her craziness.”

“I love you.” He blurts out. Ali made the same attempt with him once upon a time, but he actually means the words that leave his lips. “I don’t mind being affected by her craziness because I love you.”

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” You’re about to hang up the call before he can change your mind. But he successfully manages to get another word in.

“I promise I will make all of this stop. Just come to me, please.” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and that’s the last thing you want. You just want all of this to end, you want your best friend back even if she’s clearly awful, and you want to live in peace. “I will fix it all, even if I have to beg her.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” You end up hanging up the phone, leaving Satoru with a broken heart. But as much as you care for him– You can even say that you love him, but you can’t keep doing this. It hasn’t even been a month, but your life has been a living hell.

You hear some loud laughter from Ali’s room, and you furrow your brows as you hear it. It’s cackling. It feels as if she knows what happened to you, and it’s causing her joy.

You know that you should walk to your room, and ignore her. You’re apartment hunting, you know that you can’t live under the same roof for too much longer. Instead of seeing what she’s up to, you should lock yourself in your room and figure out a way of how to get out of here.

But you can’t help but press your ear against the bedroom door to hear what she’s doing.

“I would’ve killed to see the look on that bitch’s face. Can you send me the video?” You hear, and you don’t have to listen to another word. You know she’s talking about you. “It’s only a matter of time before she breaks up with him.”

And those words send you over the edge. You clench your fists as your blood begins to boil. That’s all she wanted, for you to end things with Satoru, and you’re not going to let her have her way.

You love Satoru, and you’re not going to let her ruin things between the two of you. She might be miserable with her life, but you’re not going to let her drag you down with her.

You grab your phone and don’t hesitate before calling Satoru. You begin walking to your bedroom, getting ready to have a long heart-to-heart conversation with him.

“Satoru…” You say when he picks up the phone, unsure of how to proceed. An apology is in order but should you tell him that you want to get back together first? Maybe you should ask him to meet up first, having this conversation over a phone call seems improper.

“You’re calling because you regret it.” He says before you can get another word out. He can read your mind so well, it’s ridiculous sometimes.

“I do.” You can’t help but awkwardly chuckle. “I love you too, Satoru. I’m sorry.”

Ali quickly realizes that she isn’t untouchable when she messes with your car again– Not that you would do anything against her. She might be horrible to you, but you still treat her like the little girl that was once upon your best friend. Her error lies in messing around with a car that’s under Satoru’s name.

“I can’t believe she did it again.” You comment, still in your pajamas as you look at the damage. You’re staying in Satoru’s apartment for a while, and you would’ve sworn that she wouldn’t do anything while you were staying with him. But now your car is completely destroyed.

“You sound unphased.” Satoru says, taking pictures of the damage. “You shouldn’t be used to this.”

“She’s going to chase me for the rest of my life. I’m convinced.” You answer. “By the way, can you drop me off–”

“I got you.” He cuts you off, and you kiss his cheek. You couldn’t be luckier. Until he opens his mouth to speak again, “But after we talk to the cops.”

“Satoru–”

“They’re already involved. I’ve been working with some people behind the scenes, and we’re building up a harassment case against her.” Satoru interrupts you, and you feel your heart stop. “It’s going to stop whether you like it or not. That woman won’t leave you alone no matter what.”

“Okay…” You sigh, giving him a subtle nod. You can’t stop him. Either way, you know he’s right. She won’t stop unless she faces some serious consequences. “For how long is she–”

“So far three years.” He reads your mind. “If she pulls something else, we can make it four.”

“That’s not too bad.” You answer, though you don’t believe it. You feel guilty for not stopping him, but he’s right. You know he’s right.

Ali has beaten off more than she can chew, and unluckily for her, Satoru won’t let her get away with it.

You couldn’t be happier a year after your friendship with Ali ends. You were so caught up in the past, that you failed to realize that Ali was a negative in your life. Even though you can’t help but miss the bond that you had once upon a time, you’re excelling without her.

Satoru made sure that Ali paid for her behavior. He got law enforcement involved and she was penalized with a year in jail, and with a hefty fine that ensures she stays off your back. When she found out, she begged that you’d help her but you refused. You listened to Satoru for once, and left her to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Your social life couldn’t be better without her. You’ve gotten close to Shoko, and now consider her as your best friend– And your friendship is so much different than the one you had with Ali. You notice it’s much healthier than whatever you had going on with Ali. Shoko genuinely cares about you, and you feel appreciated by her side.

Romantically, things couldn’t be better either. Satoru loves you like no other, and he lets it be known. He treats you like his queen, always spoiling you and letting you be right even when you’re so clearly wrong.

Though there’s something wrong with him lately. He’s been acting odd around you, and you can’t help but feel nervous… As if you’ve done something to upset him. So it comes as a shocker when he invites you on a date out of the blue.

“Where are we going?” You question him as you look out the window. He’s singing along to his favorite song as he drives you to your destination. He completely ignores you, which makes you nervous. “Satoru.”

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” He exclaims, and his tone takes some weight off your shoulders. He sounds playful… So it can’t be too bad, right?

“Can’t you give me a hint?” You question, and Satoru shakes his head. He’s smirking, which annoys you. He has something up his sleeve and it’s written all over his face.

You finally get to your destination, and no matter how much you bug him for an answer, he refuses to give you a response. You furrow your brows when you realize you’re at the beach. It’s a little late for a beach day, so you’re questioning what you’re doing at the place.

“What are we doing here?” You ask him, but he refuses to give you an answer. Instead, he grabs your hand when you exit the car and drags you along. You’re not letting him get away so easily. “You’re so quiet today, what are you up to?”

Your eyes narrow as you see an odd scene at the beach. Are those… Candlelights? Rose petals? Oh, someone is getting proposed to, that’s good for them. It makes you wonder when Satoru will do the same— It’s not like you’re expecting it any time soon but seeing that makes you wonder.

Then it hits you. Satoru makes an abrupt stop and gets on one knee. Yes, someone is getting proposed to but it’s not a random stranger. Satoru is proposing to you. Your jaw drops, quickly followed by a gasp of pure disbelief.

“I love you so much—“ He begins his speech and you’re pinching yourself to check if this is reality. Two years ago you wouldn’t have imagined that Satoru would be proposing to you of all people. He’s in love with you.

“Yes!” You exclaim, even when he isn’t close to being done to asking his question. “I’d love to marry you!”

Tears of joy well up in his eyes as he slides the very heavy rock on your finger. It fits just perfectly. Satoru stands up from the ground, kissing you ever so lovingly. After all, you are doing him the grand honor of becoming his wife— Allowing him to become your husband.

He picks you up from the ground, spinning you around as if you were his prized possession. He tells you over and over again, “I love you, dear. So much.”

“Put me down, Satoru!” You chuckle, and he does as you ask of him. But he doesn’t let you go before filling your face with kisses first.

You would’ve never imagined that you’d end up here with him, but you did. And you couldn’t have asked for a better destiny.

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stalkerr-daddy · 14 hours ago

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Sneaking into your room late at night, making sure I wait until you’re in a deep sleep. I stand over you, watching and admiring you before I take you as mine. I gently push a wet cloth over your nose and mouth, making sure you don’t wake up for a while. I quickly tie you up and carry you to the car where I put you into my trunk. I drive you to your new home and put you in the room that I had made specifically for you, all of your favorite things are in there. You suddenly wake up to the tv playing your missing persons report on the news, while I stroke my cock to your pictures plastered all over the screen. I notice you’re awake and begin playing with your pussy while you scream and try and fight it, “Poor little girl, they’re never going to see you again,” I say to you while you cry out, knowing that there’s absolutely nothing you can do to leave me. Your pussy gets wet for me even though tears are streaming down your face. I grab my throbbing cock, wiping your tears away with it and using them as lube to fuck you. “Look at the pretty pictures they chose for you,” I moan out, holding your head in place and forcing you to watch the news report while I violate you to it, laughing at you because you’ll never see your old life again, you’re all mine now. I violently fuck you making you cum repeatedly on my cock, breaking you in and training you to love your new life as my victim. Your body starts to give out as you begin to uncontrollably shake from fear, your pussy clenching around my dick from being overstimulated and used, I aggressively shove my swollen cock into your hole, pounding you deeper and deeper until I flood your pussy full of your kidnappers cum, showing you what your life is like now as my doll

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hyperions-light · 3 days ago

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The Poison Fruit Ripens

#defendingtheending here we go

First of all mega super ultra spoilers for the ending teaser that Steam says like… 6% ? Of players have seen? So you’ve been warned. No cuts baby, it’s Miyazaki style

Okay, so it’s the Executors, and they’re probably coming across the sea in the next game (if EA doesn’t nuke BW), from what I can gather. I mean, this is fine from a lore perspective. All we knew about those people before is that 1) they are mysterious 2) they are from over there, across the ocean

And now they’re maybe connected to the revealed Qunari lore, which I am ! So excited to have! We already knew that the Qunari fled across the ocean for unspecified reasons, and that going back there was Not A Thing. But now we know that they left because of the (probably metaphorical?) Devouring Storm, which could be connected to the Executors. What are the odds that there are two separate Huge Bad Things Over There that both want to destroy Thedas? Probably is just one big thing— also the title Executor implies they are doing the bidding of someone else, so whatever the Qunari were talking about could be it. (They also talked about being agents of someone else’s will in the Inquisition War Table quest).

So the cinematic shows a bunch of our prominent villains from the previous games being influenced in some way by the Executors. Which I think people are upset about, but I think it’s fine because:

- They did not really specify the manner of influence. I would be annoyed if they retconned Loghain’s decision to leave Cailan on the battlefield because it makes him interesting, but they didn’t say that. They just said they influenced his decisions. They could have done that by stoking his paranoia about Orlais, or by planting Arl Howe to influence him after the battle. He did a lot of OOC stuff while he was King Regent, and this could be a chance to explain what didn’t make sense for his previously established character and was just put in there to make him seem Very Evil.

- They also were around some people doing a blood magic ritual… there weren’t enough of them to be the Magisters, technically, but that is usually what it looks like when we see them in DA art so I’m going to assume that’s them for now. I mean that’s wild if that’s what it is bc that was such a long time ago? Thee guys have really been playing the long game I guess

- The other person they directly influenced seems to be Bartrand, which is really easy because who the fuck gave him that damn map? We NEVER found out who pointed Bartrand to the Thaig! Someone did it, and they probably did it on purpose! It may as well be these guys

- the rest of the villains don’t get guys whispering to them, so I have to assume they mean to imply that they just set up the circumstances that would lead to these people gaining power. I mean someone sent the Carta to the Vimmark mountains, right? And there was like some weird demon there, too.

-So basically they’re just implying that these people have been manipulating events to make sure that shit in Thedas is hitting the fan all at once, which does kind of explain the frankly improbable number of world-ending events that have happened during the Dragon Age. I mean, three Blights, two Magisters, two Evanuris, Antaam invasion, major mage rebellion, Templar schism, and the death of the Southern Divine? It’s only been like 50 years!!! Before the Dragon Age there had only been four Blights since the Ancient Age! Shit does not normally happen this fast in Thedas

I think the phrase itself is pretty direct (also giving Southern Reach vibes). All this chaos they helped sew is reaching its culmination, and now they’re getting ready to cash in the chips. They’re coming to Thedas at the moment that all the great powers are at their weakest, when there’s basically no one to oppose them. Tevinter? Fucked. Qunari? No military anymore. Antiva? Haha! lol, even. Fereldan? Basically gone. Orlais? In shambles. Free Marches? Decimated. Anderfels? There’s like 100 Wardens left in a swamp. Nevarra? I actually don’t know, maybe the lichlords can do something. Maybe Rivain could field some token resistance if they didn’t get hit by the Antaam too badly, but that’s kind of it IMO. This is THE time to come in and conquer(?) the land, or whatever they’re trying to do. Kill everybody?? Turn them into Darkspawn? Who knows!

Some speculation about what could be done to repel invasion:

- shit ton of blood magic

- fix titans, wake them up??? But idk if they’d be into it

- adaari, but idk if there are that many

- people with dragon blood, like the Theirins, are maybe super special and can do things?

- pirates, baby!!! Woooooo!

- I guess Mythal could know something? She can see the future a bit

- dragon army! Dragon army!!

#dragon age #datv spoilers #veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard

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lomlhwa · 3 days ago

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scandal (l.c)

pairing: idol!reader x idol!chan

preview: you got into a dating scandal with another idol and chan is not happy. it should've been him, he's your actual boyfriend after all.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of beomgyu and other idols, possessive chan, kisses galore, pet names (pretty, baby, my love, angel), oral (fem.receiving), holding hands while fucking, so much praise, monster cock chan, marking, did i say possessive?, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.8k

song rec for this fic: obsession by exo

a/n: i tried making fake tweets + texts for this how did i do? also i just threw in random female idols to make a fake group lol

you sigh, putting your phone down and rubbing your temples. dating as an idol is so tiring and sometimes you honestly forget why you even try. but you love your boyfriend so much. beomgyu is your good friend and sometimes you fail to remember to be sneaky when hanging out. even small things like going out to eat together makes fans assume you’re madly in love. this isn’t the first time you’ve been roped into media with beomgyu and you’re certain it won’t be the last.

with your swift rise to fame, you’ve had many dating scandals in your time. what pisses chan off the most is the fact that it’s never been him that you’ve had a scandal with. you’ve gone out on many public dates before and no one has ever picked up on the fact that you’re together. he even kissed you in the view of a sasaeng one time and they didn’t notice. he wonders if it’s intentional on the media’s part or if they’re seriously just that oblivious.

you run your hand through your hair, trying to fathom why the general public knowing about your relationship is so important to him. everyone within the industry knows so why does everyone else have to? relationships can ruin idol reputations and he doesn’t seem to care. maybe it’s because you’re both already so big that he’s not worried? or he’s hoping your fans are just accepting enough to be okay with it?

your members come wandering into the living room and you’re quick to compose yourself. you don’t want them to know you’re having relationship problems again. “you okay, y/n?” minji asks you, concern spreading on her face. you nod and smile to the best of your abilities. “hmm, i don’t believe you but we have schedules so i’m not gonna push,” karina shakes her head before gesturing for you to follow the group out the door. you gather your things and do your best not to think about anything but the late night ahead of you.

___________________________________________

after a late night at dance practice you finally get the time to check your phone. you know chan had a fansign today so you decide to check on some of his fan accounts. you smile as you’re met with cute photos of him posing with gifts from fans. you find lots of updates on things he said as well. his current favorite movies, foods, tv shows and… songs. of course he mentions you. it’s cute that he listens to your music and likes to promote you to fans.

you jump as you realize sana is perched over your shoulder, reading your text messages. “he’s gonna get in trouble when people realize he keeps talking about you,” she comments, clicking her tongue. you sigh dramatically, slouching your shoulders. “that’s what he wants.” suddenly all your members are gathered around you, confused as to what you’re talking about. “i got into another scandal with beomgyu and chan is jealous that it’s not him. so he’s putting in extra effort to try and get people to assume things.” your members share a weird look between them before turning back to you. “i think you should go on the most public date ever and make sure everyone knows you’re with lee chan of seventeen,” lily smiles brightly at you. this comment shocks you a little but you agree.

“will you guys help me set up a giant celebration at the restaurant under our dorm?” you ask and they all agree excitedly. you all rush to get back to your dorm, eager to plan an extravagant dinner for you and your boyfriend. you talk to the owners of the restaurant and they agree to vacate the restaurant for you. they even promise to make food on the house. your girls help you pick the perfect outfit, hair and makeup for the event. they even “accidentally” tell a well known media outlet that you have plans for tomorrow and they should be there.

___________________________________________

you sit in eager anticipation waiting for your boyfriend to show up. you can see a photographer out of the corner of your eye, waiting for something to happen. you hear the backdoor open and chan walks in, confidence filling his every step. your eyes fall on the suit he chose for tonight. he left his blazer undone, showing off that the buttons resting on his chest were begging to burst open.

“hello, my love,” he says as he pecks your cheek before sitting down across from you. “what’s the occasion for such a fancy dinner?” his face changes to panic for a moment before he speaks again; “did i miss our anniversary? your birthday?” you shake your head and chuckle just as a waitress comes scurrying out of the kitchen with pre prepared food. you thank her and shoot her a quick wink before turning back to your lover. chan looks at you with an unreadable expression, but you hope it’s positive.

the two of you eat your food happily, the atmosphere feeling very comfortable. your share anecdotes from your lives as idols, laughing that the ridiculousness of your respective companies. before long, your meal is coming to an end. chan gives you a look you know all too well and you’re quick to scurry away, up the stairs and to your dorm. your boyfriend follows swiftly behind you after thanking all the staff.

you thank your members mentally as you enter your normally occupied dorm. as soon as the door is closed, chan’s hands are on you. he drags you by your hips, crashing you against him. he kisses you with such aggression that you would think he was trying to eat you. your tongues tangle like snakes, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth. “fuck, baby. you’re so sexy, you know that?” he connects his lips to your jawline, sucking on your skin gently. he sucks dark red marks on your collar bones, taking a moment to lean back and admire his work.

“jump,” he mutters as he hooks his hands under your thighs. you hop and he catches you before quickly scurrying towards your room. he lays you down on your bed, pressing your legs wide open. he groans as he realizes you aren’t wearing any panties. you bite your lip as he admires you. “stop fucking me with your eyes and fuck me for real,” you demand. chan drops to his knees in front of you, desperation filling his eyes. you lift yourself onto your elbows so you can see him better. he kisses his way up your thighs before meeting his lips with your drenched core.

his skilled tongue darts out to circle your clit, small whines escaping from your throat. he grips your thighs, holding you exactly where he wants you. he slurps and drinks you up as you twitch and squirm under him. he focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, rubbing his tongue back and forth over it. “channie, please please ple-ah,” he silences you with a harsh smack to your inner thigh. “let me enjoy your cunt. god, i love that you’re mine,” he presses kisses against your slit, licking a fat stripe up it to follow. “fucking mine.”

he grazes his teeth over your clit, drinking in the way you squeak and raise your hips towards his mouth. your hands fly to his hair and drag his mouth back to you. he chuckles before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it before letting it go with a small ‘pop.’ you grind your core against his face, his nose brushing your clit as you get more and more desperate for release. “you have the most perfect pussy, baby. could eat you forever.”

a low moan slips from his lips as he watches you clench around nothing at his words. he places one final kiss to your core before rising off his knees. “you’re so tasty, angel. but i think i might explode if i don’t get inside you.” he reaches down to undo his pants and let them pool around his ankles. he aligns himself with your desperate hole before pressing in gently. “my pretty, pretty girl.” he grabs your hands and intertwines all ten of your fingers with his. a gesture like this always felt so romantic to you.

he arms flex in reaction as you clench around him in an eager effort to get him to move. he draws his hips back slowly before returning himself to the hilt. your eyes cross and your back arches off the bed as he repeats this ritual over and over before he can’t take the slow pace anymore. he tightens his grip on your hands as he speeds up, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room. he stares between the two of you, watching as he disappears and reappears between your legs.”fuck, baby. you’re all mine. i don’t care what the media says. i’m the one fucking you. not beomgyu, me.” you nod your head, panting like a dog in the summer heat. “say it. who does this pussy belong to?” he thrusts into you faster, as if to make it harder for you to answer. “y-you, chan. fuck, it’s all yours.”

he lets go of your hands and opts to wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your chest. he ruts into you with such vigor you think you might snap in half. he lifts you partially off the bed so you’re kind of sitting in his lap. your grind down on him, desperate for more. “channie… god, need it so bad,” you plead, your orgasm threatening to rip its way out of you. he runs his tongue between the valley of your breasts before pulling back to look at your face.

“keep eye contact with me while you finish. let me see how fucking good i make you feel.” you nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he connects the pad of his thumb to your clit. you let out a deep sigh and fight your hardest not to throw your head back. the way chan looks at you through his sweaty bangs has you seeing stars. “cumming. oh my god i’m cumming,” you cry out as your whole body spasms. “yeah, that’s it baby. squeeze my cock like that.” your arms give out and you fall back onto the bed, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turn white.

your lover’s orgasm is quick to follow, ropes of cum painting your walls white. he moans and whines out your name like a hymn, gripping your waist so hard you might bruise. you twitch as he rides out the last of his high before stilling completely. he pulls out of you slowly before laying next to you. he pulls you tightly against him, panting slightly as he settles. “i promise i don’t care what the media says. i love you."

___________________________________________

#lomlhwa #seventeen #svt #lee chan #dino #seventeen smut #svt smut #lee chan smut #dino smut

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sweetshuga · 1 day ago

Text

MS ✰ Bewitched ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

contains ⚠︎ smut!, strong language!, suggestive remarks!, obscene descriptions!, polyamory, hint of overstimulation, p in v (unprotected, use condoms irl), threesome, oral (m! receiving), size kink, light s&m, bondage, toys & idk a bunch of kinky stuff °~° ⚠︎

sum. Switching their clothes for a video leads to new sexual discoveries.

wc. 2.1k (2,116)

note. English is not my first language!

You watched from your place on the living room couch as Matt and Chris paced back and forth between their rooms. Seemingly exchanging clothes, laughing and talking about some type of tiktok they’re gonna film. You were only partially paying attention now—the fanfiction you were reading on your phone suddenly taking an interesting turn.

"Hey, ma?" Your head shot up at the sudden interruption, your eyes widened by a fraction when you saw their attire. They had exchanged clothes, and even their jewelleries were of the other. It’s not like they don’t wear each other’s clothes, you’ve seen them share hoodies or pants, but never fully dress as one another.

"Yeah?" You breathed out, your voice coming out a bit too shaky for your liking. "Can you please go into one of our rooms while we film a tiktok? Y’know... we can’t really show you yet." Chris said apologetically, and you nodded. "Yeah, yeah, of course, tell me when you’re done." You stood up and made your way towards Matt’s room.

"Sorry about this, sweetheart, we won’t take too long ’promise," you chuckled quietly to yourself before replying with a soft "okay" and closed the door behind yourself. Immediately plopping down on Matt’s bed as you opened your phone, ready to continue reading the fanfic.

Some people might think it’s weird to read fanfictions about your boyfriend— or boyfriends in your case, but you couldn’t deny how hot it was, how much it turned you on. The suggestive part of the fanfic began and just as you got comfortable on the bed Matt walked inside the room.

You looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow, "you done already?" He chuckled and shook his head no, "Chris is filming his video, I’ll do it after him." You nodded, and motioned for him to come sit beside you. "You should wear bracelets more often, it suits you..." Your voice trailed off as his hand landed on your thigh, giving it a small playful squeeze, and the seemingly innocent gesture sent shivers down your spine.

"Yeah? Maybe I should get a similar one–" he paused, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the Tumblr logo on your phone, the fanfiction left open and abandoned on the bed beside you. You looked at him confused before following his gaze, a small gasp escaped your lips before you quickly turned your phone off.

You sat up, flustered and embarrassed to have been caught red handed reading such a frisky fanfic about him and Chris. Stammering as you tried to find a good excuse as to why you were reading a smut fanfic in broad daylight – even if you could – but it only made it worse. "You read things like that? What was the name again?"

You looked at him for a solid minute before opening your mouth to speak, only getting out a flustered "what?" in response. The corners of Matt’s lips twitched into a small smirk, "what’s the name?" He repeated himself, his smirk threatened to grow wider with each passing second. "Simple solution," you whispered.

"Hm? And what happens in it?" You gulped softly, feeling your face heat up. "Do I have to? I mean, you can just read it yourself, I know you’ve got Tumblr on your phone." Matt laughed, the sound rich and amused, "yeah I do, but I wanna hear you tellin’ me about it, sweetheart." You couldn’t help but fidget slightly at the pet name, it was one of your faves.

"Uhm... It’s like, well," you stammered, "it’s about how much you and Chris look alike when you wear your caps backwards." You finally blurted out, biting your tongue as you waited for his reaction. "That’s... Interesting? So y’like it when we look alike huh?" He chuckled, thoroughly amused.

The bedroom door opened, and Chris peeked his head in. "I’m done," he walked fully inside the room, grinning and putting his hands on his hips in a mock attempt of display. "So, how do I look, ma?" You chuckled and sat up straight, "So fine, I’ll give you that, the kisses tee is just chefs kiss."

Chris grinned wider, "pirate girl tank or kisses tee?" Your jaw dropped, "how do you expect me to pick one? Also, why didn’t you wear the 'iconic' pirate girl tank?" You nudged Matt playfully, "we’re not recreating outfits... well, basically, but it’s more like how we dress and all—" you cut him off with a laugh, "okay, whatever you say, kid."

"Are you two done filming yet?" Nick popped his head in, looking annoyed, "’cause I’m so fucking hungry, and you keep telling me to stay in my room like what am I? One of your secret girlfriends?" Chris scoffed in faux annoyance, "we’ve only got one girl fyi, and no, Matt hasn’t filmed yet, but go ahead and eat if you’re about to starve to death."

Nick huffed, raising his eyebrows in dramatic disbelief, but didn’t say anything else as he walked away, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous everything was. Suddenly, Matt spoke—breaking the silence. "I’ll be back," he gave your thigh one last squeeze before standing up to film the short video for tiktok.

Chris smirked and sauntered over to Matt’s bed where you were – still – laying on. Sitting on the edge as his hand absentmindedly started to caress your calves, "so, real talk, how do I look?" You hummed thoughtfully, "real talk? I think you look hot, like 'makes me wet' kinda hot." He let out a surprised yet amused laugh, "bold now ain’t we?" chuckling as he leaned closer.

"Mm... 'makes you wet' kinda hot huh?" He teased, a wolfish grin on his face as his gaze raked over your body appraisingly. "So, you gon’ show me how wet it makes you or do I have to see it myself." His tone wasn’t one of questioning, more like a commanding one as if you were obligated to show him either way. You felt pleasantly surprised, the fluttering in your abdomen growing tenfold.

However, Matt walked in before you could respond. Raising his eyebrows with a small smirk as he sensed the tension in the air. The room seemed warmer, more electric. That’s when Nick opened the door again, "I’ll be out for a bit–" he paused, having sensed the tension as well.

"Well, uh... Don’t be too loud? We don’t need another noise complaint from our neighbours, that’s just borderline embarrassing." With that, he closed Matt’s bedroom door, leaving you three alone. The front door clicked shut a few minutes later. Your mouth hung agape at Nick’s words.

"Damn, kid has no filter whatsoever." Chris chuckled, taking the fanny pack off and tossing it on Matt’s gaming chair. "Hey, easy with it," Matt said as he took off his cap. Putting it on his gaming desk before turning to look at you. Sensing their eyes on you, you suddenly felt a strong heat in your lower abdomen. Their gazes were enough to make you squirm.

"So, now that Nick is out," Chris looked at Matt before looking back at you, "we’ve the house all to ourselves," Matt continued for him. You nodded subtly, shifting slightly on the bed, trying not to show how in need you were. They weren’t stupid, knowing exactly what was happening with you as their handsome faces lit up with amused grins.

You squirmed, a muffled moan exiting your gagged mouth as your hips bucked and jerked when Chris pressed a button on the small remote, making the vibe in between your legs buzz louder. The intense sensation of the vibe, bound to stay precisely on your clit, was enough to make your eyes roll back.

Your ankles were bound as well as your wrists, making you unable to move much as the pleasure coursed through your body. You bit the gag, your back arching and hips rolling as you tried to get the vibe at least a millimeter away from your throbbing clit, but Matt held your hips down and Chris positioned the vibrator so it was exactly on your clit again.

"Aw, too much?" Matt pouted, jutting his bottom lip out in obvious mock sympathy. Your eyes glazed over as a tight knot formed in your stomach, your body trembling as you tried to fight the impending orgasm – knowing it would turn you dumb from how powerful it would be.

Just when you thought you couldn’t hold back anymore, Chris pressed the button until the vibe buzzed at max. An immediate jolt ran through your body as your eyes widened, tears of pleasure threatening to fall as you shut it back closed, loud muffled noises penetrating through the gag.

Your mind blanked when you felt the knot snap, the orgasm so powerful that you wondered if you could stay conscious. Noticing the slight overstimulation, Chris turned the vibe to a low buzz. The sensation bordered on overstimulating in your oversensitized post-orgasmic state – even if it was barely there. Matt chuckled as he took the remote from Chris and turned the vibe off, your body immediately limping into the mattress as the sensations stopped.

Chris gently untied your ankles from the bounds, but kept your wrists tied over your head. His fingers working deftly to remove the bounds from your pelvic area and tossed the vibe somewhere on the bed. Seeing your inner thighs quivering, covered in your juices, and your swollen, glistening folds on display made their cocks twitch.

They were already naked, not seeing the point in having clothes on, but kept the bracelet and rings on per your request. The tips of their hefty lengths were already dripping with precum from how aroused they were, swollen and taut with unfulfilled desires. Matt suddenly stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet while Chris took off the gag.

A few seconds later, Matt was back on the bed, now beside you as he helped you into a sitting position. Your gaze fell down to his hand that held a red silk blindfold before taking it back up to his face, your eyebrows raised. "Where did you even get that?" You asked with a small hint of amusement.

Matt just grinned, "bought it a while ago, been contemplating whether to use it or not, but I think now’s the best time to use it." Chris chuckled, "dude, I can’t believe y’had all this stuff in your closet, laying ’round like that." Matt chuckled and scooted closer to you, his erection bobbing obscenely as he moved. "C’mon, sweetheart, lemme blindfold you." You eagerly closed your eyes, not denying how much you liked this.

The blindfold cut off any source of light, making you feel a shudder of excitement. It was designed for plays like this so it wasn't a surprise that you couldn't see anything. The inability to see only heightened your other senses, every graze and touch of their hands on you seemed to make your body tremble and jolt.

𓆩♡𓆪

Your mind was a haze as Matt pounded into you with hard, deep strokes, and the slight difficulty breathing from Chris’ length down your throat added to the haze. Your mind fogging with pure unadulterated pleasure as they used your holes. Matt held your bound wrists, keeping you from moving as his other hand gripped your hip with bruising strength.

The obscene sounds of squelching from your sopping pussy being filled over and over again by Matt and the slurping sounds of your mouth working Chris filled the room along with the bed creaking underneath you. The position you were having intercourse in was a new one neither you, Matt or Chris had tried before.

Your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, but your head hung down it—allowing Chris to use your mouth. Matt’s pace quickened as he felt himself growing close with each spasm of your inner walls from your previous orgasms, the aftershocks still coursing through you.

Chris moaned as he felt the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each thrust down your throat, the sight of the bulge he was creating with his cock on your throat proving to be too much. You felt them twitch in your holes, their paces quickening and you knew they were close.

With guttural moans they came, one after the other. After a few seconds of shuddering over you, they finally pulled out, leaving you filled with their releases, but you knew better than to think it was over. Your suspicions were proven right when they coaxed you into a different position, but you weren’t complaining. After all, who could resist? They seemed to have you under their spell—bewitching indeed.

𓆩♡𓆪

ps. The fic mentioned in the beginning is actually one of my chratt fics. I know, I know, sneaky mf, but here's the link in case you wanna check it out<3 «Simple Solution»

Also, the beginning part of the actual smut was inspired by this «p link»

Chratt taglist: @bells-sturn @h3arts4nat @zombiesturniolo @urfavnickgirl @cwistofurr @goingtojohnkramershouseee @blahblahblahm @shoo-00 @ariana2saucyy @ksturnz @sturniolos4life16 @strnlslut @babysturniolo @ashleighpray23 @bl1ssfulbunn1e @ijustbelurkingmymen

♡ If you wanna be tagged on my future Chratt fics click «here» and interact with the post ♡

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chestersturniolo · 24 hours ago

Text

special candy

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader x Chris Sturniolo

Summary; you unknowingly eat some of dealer!matt & dealer!chris’ “special candy” whilst they’re out on their runs..

warnings; chratt poly relationship dynamic! if you are not comfortable with this, do not read // drug use (ofc) , pet names, tripping out (ish) — based on this request

Matt and Chris were currently out handling business, leaving you to your own devices for a couple of hours. As hunger creeps in, you lug yourself off of the couch to scrounge the kitchen, you spot a bag of gummies on the kitchen counter. You don’t think twice. You grab one, then two, then three- before you know it, you’ve polished off almost the entire bag.

You return to the couch, sinking into the cushions, opening your book back up. A chunk of time goes by before things start to feel…strange. Your breathing feels too deliberate, manual even, like you have to focus on every inhale and exhale. Your stomach churns, and time becomes a bizarre concept- minutes feel like hours, or maybe it’s the other way around. The words in the pages of your book start to morph. You squeeze your eyes shut to refocus them, trying to control your breaths and ignore this abnormal feeling.

A small while later you hear front door open, footsteps echoing up the stairs. Matt is the first to reach the living room. He spots you on the couch, grinning as he makes his way over. “Hey sweetheart” he says, cupping your cheek with a gentle hand.

You skip the usual greeting as you jut your lip out “I don’t feel well” you whine, eyes glossy.

Matt frowns, sitting down next to you, “Ah what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, frowning with concern, before brushing a soft kiss to your lips. The moment his lips leave yours, his expression shifts. His eyes widen. “You taste like…blue raspberry” His voice is slow, laced with panic. He grips your jaw, coaxing your mouth open “Fuck” he mutters under his breath, as his eyes land on your bright blue tongue.

Just in time , Chris reaches the top of the stairs, a couple of duffle bags he had retrieved from the trunk slung over his shoulder. Matt stands abruptly,marching over to him “Where the fuck did you leave that batch, Chris?!”

Chris blinked, confused “On the counter…?” he shrugs casually. The confusion lasts only a second until Matt flails his hands toward you. Chris’s eyes widen, and the duffel bags drop to the floor with a thud. He hurries over, crouching down in front of you, hooking a finger under your chin to inspect you

You blink at him slowly, your eyes heavy lidded “I’m sorry I ate your candy..i was hungry-“ you mumble “-I’ll buy you more, I promise!”

Chris ran a hand over his face, “No, you don’t understand, that was special candy, kid. Product!”

From the kitchen, Matt’s voice was frantic “She ate most of them!” he says, as he holds up the bag in the air , a couple of stray blue bears at the bottom. He chucked it down on the counter as he comes back to the couch, raking a hand through his hair.

Panic welled up inside you, your breathing growing shallow. “I-I didn’t mean to…Is this really bad?- am I gonna die?” fear in your voice

In that moment, the boys realise that they need to push their own freaking out aside and help you ride this out. Matt immediately sat beside you, placing his hand on your cheek “No, hey, listen to me - don’t panic, okay?” He shot a glare at Chris, who was pacing now, before turning back to you. “I need you to relax, baby. Talk to me, what are you feeling?”

Tears welled up in your eyes “Time is moving really…slow..and I feel like I’m tingly,and in..in bubble wrap” you pause for what feels like an hour “don’t feel good Matt” Your voice cracked, and you clung to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Chris lets out a big sigh before rummaging through the duffel bags, pulling out a bag of identical blue gummies. Matt’s eyes narrowed “The fuck are you doin’?”

Chris muttered, more to himself than anyone else “Shit’s my fault” He looked at you, guilt in his eyes. “You’re gonna be fine, okay? Look, I’m gonna do it with you” he says in a reassuring voice before quite literally shovelling them into his mouth.

The batch wasn’t majorly strong, but since you barely ever used substances, it was hitting you hard. He knew that taking them wouldn’t put him on the same level as you, considering his tolerance was worlds apart from yours, but he also knew that you seeing him doing so, would calm you down

And it worked, as you watched him chew, you felt a sense of reassurance, knowing you’re not alone in it.

Matt had tucked you into a blanket, you were sinking deeper into the couch as the initial waves of panic began to subside. The room felt both too quiet and too loud, and it was almost like you could hear the air bouncing around the room. The lights seemed brighter, and everything felt far away. Each breath still felt like work.

Matt stayed close, his arm wrapped protectively around you. His hand moved in slow circles over your back,. “Just keep breathing with me, okay?” He took exaggerated deep breaths, guiding you. “In…and out, that’s it”

You tried to mimic him, but it felt like your body wasn’t quite yours “Matt…it’s weird, everything’s weird” you whispered,

Chris knelt in front of you, resting his hands on your knees “Listen to me ma, you’re okay..this is just the gummies messin’ with you, i feel it too” he bluffed. He barely felt a thing…and although he hated lying, in times like these, a little comforting white lie never hurt anyone,right?

“It’ll pass, I promise” he continues , reaching for your hands, holding them firmly “squeeze my hand when it feels too much, yeah?” he says, taking a seat on the other side of you. You nod, holding onto his hands for dear life.

Matt glaced at Chris, silently communicating something before standing and heading into the kitchen. You watched him leave, slight panic flaring again “Where’s he going?” you ask, your eyes trained on him. Chris cupped your face, forcing you to look at him “He’s just getting you some water angel, you need to stay hydrated. Focus on me, okay?” His eyes searched yours, softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Matt returned moments later with a glass of water and a damp cloth. He sat back down in his spot beside you, pressing the cloth to your forehead, before guiding the glass of water to your lips “Small sips”

You took a few hesitant sips, the icy water doing wonders for your cotton mouth. You push the glass away after a few more sips before huffing, “It feels like…like I’m floating” you whispered, blinking slowly.

Matt set the water down on the coffee table, and his hand falls to your thigh “You’re on solid ground, baby. Feel the couch under you? Feel my hand?” he says, giving a small squeeze to your leg. He guided your hand to the blanket, letting you feel its texture. You nod slowly, playing with the soft fluff.

He pressed a kiss to your temple before glancing at Chris, nodding toward the TV “Put something on, something light”

Chris grabbed the remote, flicking through channels until he landed on a nature documentary. The calming voice of the narrator filled the room “This should help” he shrugs, glancing back at you.

You watched the screen, the vivid colors too bright, too intense “It’s…too much” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

Chris quickly turned the lights off, and turned the volume down “Better?”

You nodded, letting yourself get lost in the life of a polar bear.

As the initial anxiousness faded, a different sensation took over. Your stomach growled loudly, breaking the quiet. You glanced up at Matt, with hazy puppy dog eyes “I’m…really hungry”

Matt exchanged a glance with Chris, a hint of amusement softening their worry “The munchies” Chris murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Matt chuckled, pulling out his phone “Alright baby,what do you want? We’ll get you whatever you need”

“Everything” you pleaded , pulling a chuckle from them both.

Within minutes, they had food on the way-pizza, burgers, fries, ice cream. Chris disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and returning with snacks..chips, cookies, anything he could find. He handed you a bag of chips, watching you carefully. You practically snatched them from him

You crunched on them, eyes widening in delight. “These are the best chips I’ve ever had” you mumbled around a mouthful, crumbs falling onto the blanket.

Chris laughed softly, as he settled back in beside you, brushing them crumbs off your lap “Glad you’re feeling a little better” he smiled as he noticed a crumb on the corner of your mouth, reaching his thumb to wipe it off “pretty girl”

They stayed close,both planted either side of you. Whenever a random wave of strange feelings hit, they were there, talking you through it, grounding you.

Eventually the food arrived, they set everything up on the coffee table, letting you pick at whatever you wanted. It was the best meal you’d ever had, everything tasted like magic. You’d even lathered some ice cream on a pizza slice, making the most disgustingly delicious concoction. Matt and Chris watched you in awe.

Once you’d finished your food, and your belly was fulll, exhaustion set in. Your head drooped onto Chris’ shoulder, your eyes heavy. “M’tired” you mumbled.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head as Matt reaches and pulls the blanket over you further “Sleep sweetheart, we’ve got you”

It was seconds before you drifted off, feeling like the couch was swallowing you in its comfort. Every few minutes, Chris leaned in, carefully checking on your breathing, his ear close to your slightly open mouth.

Now you were asleep, Matt took the opportunity to scold his brother further ,, “Never leave our fuckin’ shit out again y’hear me?” he said with a stern look

Chris let out a big sigh, letting his head fall back with a guilty look, before nodding “Lesson learned bruh”

dividers - @strangergraphics-archive

AN; thankyou so much for the request anon! i had so so much fun writing this!! i included some of my personal “trips” in here lmao.

hope y’all enjoyed! - 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST LINKED HERE

#•sage’s chratt collection💨🫧 ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅•#chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fluff

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runariya · 3 days ago

Note

🥸🤫☠️

zombie!jjk x human!reader where zombie roaming around abandon island and found human...

(yandere+smut+apocalypse) part of the prompt game pairing: zombie!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, zombie!AU, S2"L", yandere, angst, smut warnings: angst, survival on an island, yandere, explicit sexual content, breast play, unprotected sex, squirting,, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.328

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’re not sure how you got this far. Not really.

The island’s quiet, apart from the rustling of waves against the rocks and the occasional cry of some bird in the distance. It’s the kind of quiet that grates at your nerves, gets under your skin, makes your thoughts run wild until you’re staring at shadows that aren’t there.

Not that it matters, you think. The only thing worse than shadows that aren’t real is the knowledge that there are real monsters out there, ones that used to look like you, talk like you. Ones that will tear you apart if they catch you slipping.

You sit on the sand, knees pulled up to your chest, and squint at the horizon. Nothing but water as far as the eye can see. There’s no way off this place. No boats, no planes, no rescue missions. You’d counted yourself lucky to have found it at all, back when you still had the energy for such things.

But it’s been weeks now. Maybe months. And luck’s gone sour. The supplies you’d scavenged are almost gone, and every day it feels like the island is shrinking a bit more.

The quiet’s the worst of it, though. It’s loud enough to make you jump at nothing, loud enough to leave you wishing for the kind of noise you’d sworn you’d never want to hear again.

Not this kind of noise, though.

The sound of shuffling and low, wet breathing.

It freezes you where you sit, your heart kicking in your chest like a dying engine. You tell yourself it’s your imagination, that there’s no way, no way anything could’ve followed you here. But the sound grows louder, scuff of footsteps against sand, and you know you’re not alone.

You should move. Run, hide, something. But you’re cemented to the spot, fear pinning you in place like a fucking corpse on a spike, and when you finally manage to turn your head, he’s already there.

The first thing you notice is his eyes.

Dark. Too dark. Not the milky, empty gaze you’ve come to expect from the infected, but different entirely. Like shadows sucking everything in, swallowing whatever light they might’ve had.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and eerily human, except for the faint grey tinge to his skin, the cracks along his arms and neck, like porcelain left out in a storm.

You know exactly what he is, but you can’t stop staring.

He’s handsome. That’s the part that catches even yourself off guard. No rotting flesh, no slack jaw or hollowed-out face. His hair is dark, long enough to curl at their tips, and his bottom lip is full, though they’re pressed into a tight, almost pained line.

His clothes are ripped and stained, clinging to his muscular frame, and you notice the claws at his fingertips, black and sharp.

Then he moves, and you snap back to reality with a jolt.

“Shit,” you hiss, scrambling to your feet and stumbling backwards.

He doesn’t lunge at you. Doesn’t even bare his teeth. He just tilts his head, watching you with those black, round eyes, like he’s studying you.

“What do you want?” you snap, even though you know it’s pointless. He’s not going to answer.

But then he does.

“I found you.” His voice is low, rough even, like it hasn’t been used in a long time.

You take another step back, your hands shaking from the wave of adrenaline drowning you. “Stay away from me.”

He doesn’t listen. Of course he doesn’t as he takes a step closer, like if he’s testing the waters.

“Stay—” Your voice cracks, but you don’t have time to fix it, because suddenly he’s in front of you, faster than you can blink.

His hand shoots out, engulfing your wrist hard enough to make you wince, but thankfully not hard enough to break anything. His skin is cold, but not too cold, not dead. You don’t understand how that’s possible.

“You’re not running,” he states, his head tilting again. There’s something almost curious in his tone, but you’re too scared to pay it any real attention.

“Let go,” you snarl, trying to wrench your arm free, but his grip doesn’t ease up.

His other hand rises now too, clawed fingers brushing against your cheek in a way that makes you want to recoil. But you don’t. You can’t.

“You’re soft,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. “Warm.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not,” you bite out.

His lips twitch, and for a moment you think he might smile.

“You’re mine.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I found you. You’re mine.”

You laugh, but it’s more out of panic than anything. “That’s not how it works, buddy.”

He leans in closer, and you can feel his breath against your skin. “It is now.”

You want to push him away, to scream or fight or do something, but all you can do is stare into his eyes.

And then he lets go.

You stumble back, clutching your wrist like it might’ve been burned, even though the only thing you feel is the ghost of his touch. He doesn’t move to follow you, but his eyes stay locked on yours.

“Don’t run,” is he warning you? Pleasing?

You glare at him, though it feels pointless. “Why shouldn’t I?”

His head tilts again, and there’s that almost-smile, like he knows something you don’t. “Because I’ll catch you.”

You want to tell him he’s full of shit. You want to tell him he’s wrong, that you’ve survived this long because you don’t get caught.

But you don’t.

Because deep down, you know he’s right.

That’s how it starts. That’s how it ends.

He doesn’t leave after that. No, he follows you wherever you go. He’s not always close, sometimes you catch glimpses of him at the fringe of the treeline, watching you like some predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

But he doesn’t. Not yet, anyway.

You try to ignore him at first. Pretend he’s not there, focus on scavenging what little food you can find and rationing your water. But it’s impossible. You can feel his eyes on you, always watching, always waiting.

It should terrify you. It does terrify you. But it’s not just fear that keeps you up at night. It’s something else.

Something you don’t want to admit to yourself.

You tell yourself it’s just survival instinct, just your brain trying to make sense of the impossible. But it’s not that simple.

He’s too human. That’s the problem.

When you see him up close, when you hear his voice, low and rasping and somehow still fucking captivating, it’s like your mind forgets what he is. Or maybe it just doesn’t care.

He’s still dangerous. You know that. You see it in the way he moves, in the sharpness of his claws, in the flicker of primal instinct in his dark eyes.

But he doesn’t hurt you.

He could, and you know it. You’re not stupid. He could tear you apart in seconds if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He watches. And waits. And when he does speak, his voice is calm, almost gentle.

It’s not normal. Nothing about this is normal.

But normal doesn’t exist anymore.

The world’s gone to shit, and you’re stranded on a fucking island with a zombie who looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

And maybe you’re starting to believe your own thoughts, or is it him?

The first time you let him get close, it’s not because you want to. It’s because you don’t have a choice.

You’re sitting by the fire you’ve managed to build as the nights turned colder, a small thing that barely keeps the cold at bay, when you hear the sound of his footsteps approaching.

You don’t even flinch anymore. You know it’s him, so why would you bother?

He doesn’t say anything as he just lowers himself to the ground a few feet away from you, maybe wanting some warmth too.

“What do you want?”

His unblinking eyes meet yours. “You.”

You divert your gaze to the flames, though your heart betrays you by skipping a beat. “Yeah, well, tough luck. I’m not exactly available.”

He taps his claws against his thigh, and there’s that almost-smile again. “You will be.”

It’s not a threat. It should feel like one, but it doesn’t. Is it a promise? You can’t tell.

And you hate that some part of you doesn’t hate it. You hate that, even though he’s not fully human, you feel drawn to him, crave his proximity, even his touch. You reason it’s because of your isolation, because of the many days and months spent without any sort of affection.

You know that sooner or later your time will come, that this island is your final destination. So why wouldn’t you seize the opportunity to just feel again?

With a heavy sigh, you get up, trying to quieten down your doubts and everything in between as you make your way over to the zombie, his eyes following you curiously.

No longer letting your mind intervene, you get down on your knees right before him, hands shakily landing on his knees, gauging his reaction. But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t speak, just watches you like always does. And so, with a deep breath that not only fills your lungs but seems to expand your whole chest, you do what you never expected to do.

Crawling forward, you settle carefully on his lap, unable to look away from the dark voids of his eyes as his hands rest on your waist, squeezing just a little, as if to reassure you this is fine. That this is normal.

You let yourself think it is, that he’s human, that he wants you just as much as you want him. And as you lean forward, your whole body trembling with adrenaline or want, you’re not sure which, his lips part the moment yours find his.

Their warmth and plushness send your mind into a frenzy, letting you give in completely. With one silent moan escaping your lips, he pushes his tongue into your mouth, black claws ripping your already torn clothes to shreds in seconds, letting the tatters fall around you.

You try to do the same, clawing at his clothes to feel his skin on yours, but it’s in vain. Survival has stripped you of your energy, leaving you too weak to even tear the most fragile fabric in two.

The zombie grunts when your cunt grinds hard against his cock, and with that, he rips his own clothes away, lifting you slightly to adjust you just right on his lap. His skin doesn’t look as grey in the warm orange dance of the flames as it does in sunlight, something you’re oddly grateful for.

“Taste so good,” the zombie mumbles as he licks and kisses down your throat, ending his journey at your tits. You both get lost in his ministrations while you’re only able to ride your weeping cunt on his rock-hard cock, fingers weaving through his soft hair.

You should fear his black claws as they squeeze your tits together or scrape lightly against your skin, but you don’t. Not because you’re blind to the danger, but because you feel how careful he is, how utterly tender and mindful he’s being, as if he’s afraid to break you.

That thought alone sends another wave of arousal coursing through you, showing just how desperate you’ve become, desperate for touch, desperate for this zombie to fuck you senseless.

Lifting his head with both hands, his lips unnaturally rosy and swollen, you crash into him again, starved for love, for affection, for anything remotely human that the world has stripped away, not only from you but from him as well.

The zombie lifts you easily with one hand, aligning his leaking fat cock without breaking the kiss. Frantic breaths mingle as he pushes you down, spearing you in a way you never thought possible.

“Yes,” you cry out, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His moans and grunts, sounds you didn’t know you needed, only fuel your desire.

And while you try your best to ride him, both of you know how weak you’ve become, how fragile you are. His pace is inhuman as he lies back and thrusts upward, but you wouldn’t expect anything less.

The sight of him below you, biceps, pecs, and abs flexing with every pump, the jiggling of your tits in the corner of your vision, it’s enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm spills over him and onto the sand, leaving you trembling but unable to stop meeting his thrusts halfway.

“Fuck,” the zombie groans, looking more human than ever as his eyes glow in the firelight, reflecting not only the flames but your body too.

You can’t tell how long he fucks you, how long this desperate and delirious paradise lasts, but you don’t mind. You don’t mind him not stopping, don’t mind feeling dehydrated from the multiple orgasms paralysing you until you collapse on top of him.

You don’t mind when he steals your breath with his tongue, don’t mind that he’s imprinting the shape of his cock into your cunt permanently.

Because when he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you’re at peace. So content, so spent, that you forget who you are and who he is.

The quiet doesn’t bother you as you lie on his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to feel less alone.

But eventually, the calm in your mind has to make room for the survival instincts you’ve relied on for so long. It has to, because the next words you hear sound utterly insane.

“You’re finally mine, ___.”

And yes, you’re insane, you’ve lost your mind, because when you startle upright, the zombie is human.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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h5eavenly · 3 days ago

Text

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

Twenty-four - a little of me, warnings: slight mention of death and descriptions of grief etc..

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You had woken up feeling awful. It doesn’t really come as a surprise not when these exact moments have been recurring like daydreams that you somehow swim through with a hazy mind and aching limbs. It all started with a slight cough and a runny nose at the beginning of the week, nothing that was too hard to handle for you. The weather was starting to turn crueler, your clothes layered more, thicker in fabric so when you woke up the very next day completely fine you had guessed that the seven cups of tea you had dawned throughout the previous day had surely done their magic.

You were so wrong.

Your body had decided to collapse on you in the middle of the day. Dizziness sneaking into your mind as if you weren’t just running away from Sunghoon with a laughter so loud you were sure you were gonna turn someone deaf. Thankfully Jake was nowhere around to see you and as Sunghoon was fanning you while you lied down on one of the dressing rooms couches you had made him swear not to tell a soul about it – given his love to announce everyone’s news like they’re his own.

So, it didn’t take you long to figure out there’s definitely something wrong with your body, perhaps it was exhaustion yet no matter how many hours you manage to drown in sleep nothing seems to be helping. You make a mental note to get a checkup thinking it might be an iron deficiency or something along these lines.

And yet each day you open your eyes there is something else wrong with you. be your aching body or a scratch in your throat you can’t seem to cough. It’s torture and it feels like your body keeps toying between the line of being sick and healthy, not sure where to lean into more.

“Jesus. You look awful.” Sunghoon comments as soon as you meet him in front of the elevator.

“Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with your face?” Sunoo adds from beside him with a look of unrestrained disgust etched into his face.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence guys.” You reply with a roll of your eyes, sniffling as you walk into the elevator, and they follow while the cold seems to trail as quickly swirling through the space, and you tighten your arms around your shaking body.

You should have taken a painkiller before leaving your apartment.

“Do you even have makeup on?” Sunoo asks, his disgust is washed away by a look of pure worrisome instead. Although the way it’s directed at you somehow feels offensive rather than warming.

“Yeah. I have concealer on.”

“Yikes.” Sunghoon coughs.

“Maybe you should try a different brand. You know something that actually covers your dark circles” Sunoo pouts, his eyebrows knitting in what seems to be pity as his hand rubs your shoulder soothingly. It takes a few counted seconds for you to register his words. The insult sneaked into it has rancor slipping into your feature just as vast as you squint your eyes at him.

“Are you worried about me or the brands of makeup I use?”

“Your makeup. Duh.” Sunoo rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone and Sunghoon snickers from beside you.

You think you’re aware that you don’t look your best. Although to be quite honest you’re not as worried about your face as how the state of your body is stamping its anxiety deep within you. You don’t get sick often, make sure to take care of yourself in that sense at least and the thought of being home, cuddled up in your bed with a snotty nose and a pounding headache isn’t very exciting and nor do you wish for that to happen.

You’re really praying to every fucking god that exists you’re not actually falling sick.

You’ll be fine though – or at least that’s what you think. That’s what you keep praying for -

Please god please please please!!

At this point you have had your fair share of showing up to work half a mess a day then fully got it together the next day so a few of perturbed coated comments from Sunoo and Sunghoon aren’t gonna bother you too much.

However, it does get to you when you’re face to face with Jay and Soojin - who seem to have tagged along after the two of them sharing a breakfast together - You don’t think Jay has ever been this surprised or is he horrified? While looking at your face as he is right now. You blink at him and as his stare stretches a second too long you wonder if you have grown a third arm in the time you walked from the elevator.

“Oh, you look...” he crosses his arms, his eyes sweeping over your figure as he tilts his head. As if finding a word to describe your state is harder than it appears to be “not every good.” He settles with. Cringing at himself or at you. You’re not very sure of anything anymore.

“For fuck’s sake guys okay! I look like an ugly duckling I get it!” you exaggeratingly whine throwing both of your arms in the air as if it expresses your distress and throw yourself onto the couch with a dry sob and bury your face into one of the pillows. Nor your cry or attempt to suffocate yourself with the awful scent of fake leather seem to be working nor gaining you any grain of commiseration because Sunghoon starts cackling from behind you. Almost as clamorous as your sob.

“Aww yn. Don’t mind these silly boys. They’re just being dumb.” Soojin coos gently, sitting down next to you and turning you on your back and you welcome her with a pout that probably does resemble an ugly duckling.

“Like always.” She adds, raises an eyebrow at Sunghoon who shuts up almost immediately, his face turns expressionless in the blink of an eye, and he pretends to be busy examining the snack table. That is empty. while Jay looks away from you. With an awkward scratch to his neck, you could almost detect the wheels in his head finding error in his words.

“Are you sick?” She asks, tone much softer and clement as she moves her hand up and down your arm. You could stare back for a few silent minutes, mouth slightly agape at the power Seo Soojin seem to contain with merely existing.

You don’t think you could ever make Sunghoon shut up this quickly even with the presence of weapons nearby (not that you’ve ever tried. You definitely would never do such a thing).

“I think I’m just a little tired.” you reply, remembering to close your mouth when it feels too dry.

“You don’t look a little tired though.” She rests the open of her palm on the skin of your forehead and you shiver “thankfully, you don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I do have a bit of a headache.” You say, sitting up probably when you almost feel your body slipping down the couch.

“Maybe you should head home.” She rubs your shoulder soothingly.

“And do what?”

“Rest.” Soojin blinks at you slowly as if the dumbest question has just tumbled out your mouth. You wonder if you have managed to lose braincells while growing a third arm.

“Oh, I’ll be fine don’t worry. Besides, I probably have so much to do and- “Soojin doesn’t even let you finish turning her head away from you towards Jay. Yet her palm remains. It’s warm against your shoulder in contrast to how freezing the weather outside is.

“Jay, does yn have anything urgent today?”

“Not really. Jake’s schedule is very light these days and I could pretty much handle it on my own.” The response comes immediately that you have trouble keeping up, eyes darting between the two.

“Great!” she turns to face you again; a smilemounts up her face and it’s somehow as warm as the heat of the missing sun “I’m getting you an uber and you’re going home to rest!”

“Soojin I’m fine seriously. “Once again, she doesn’t give room for you to argue, your words – or rather complaints melting off your tongue when she stands up from the couch, pulling you up with her.

“You owe it to yourself to take care of yourself yeah?” she says, and you hesitate for a few seconds, unsure of what to say back to such tenderness “we need to remember to be gentle with ourselves too.”

“Okay.” You sigh and she smiles “If I feel worse then I’ll leave!-“ you add and her smile vanishes, replaced by the shaking of her head.

“Jay.” She calls turning her face away from you and he straightens in his seat “call jake and tell him that yn is taking the day off.” Jay obliges almost as forthwith as your exhale. With no questions asked and you could only stare between the two, an amused smile tugging at the edge of your lips with a bigger strive to balance on your feet.

As Jay brings the phone to his ear he seems to notice your eyes on him, however he doesn’t seem to notice the sparkle that comes to life at witnessing affection tinting the air, at knowing there are deeper emotions between two people that they aren’t as aware of.

“Ivy’s the boss here. whatever she says, happens.” He says with a shrug, your eyes shift to Soojin, and you think your smile grows bigger as the slightest, lightest hue of pink settles upon her cheeks. It could be passed by as her red sweater bringing color to her face, the light of the room or maybe it’s the tint she applied carefully before leaving her house.

But you know, and she knows that such a display of sentiment comes from something a lot more cavernous and if not for her tugging you out the room while you’re still attempting to fight the decisions already made, you’d think you’re somehow intruding into a forbidden territory.

“That guy is whipped for you.” you comment, bumping your shoulder into hers with a giggle.

“No, he’s not.” Soojin denies, woven with stubborn rebuttal and a shake of her head “He’s that way with everyone.” She adds and it comes out much softer. Like a hushed conviction.

“He doesn’t even listen to Jennie the way he listens to you.” your voice grows louder in strives to prove your truth and she shushes you when you pass by a group of staff members “and she’s his actual boss!” you whisper yell.

“Shut up your uber is almost here.” She chuckles tinting the air with sparkles of affection and it brings a warm smile to your face to witness such a tale.

“Why does he call you Ivy anyway?”

“It’s my English name.”

“That’s cute. You must be special.” You wiggle your brows at her and then a sneeze interrupts your teasing, followed by her giggle as she pushes you into the backseat of the uber.

“Very cute. Now go rest and if you need anything don’t hesitate to text me.” She urges a warning in her gaze that displays her sincerity and perhaps you are a lot sicker than you thought or maybe your head hurts a lot more than when you first woke up because a very strange ache to pout and cry like a child almost takes over you.

Deep down within all the regrets and the shame you keep locked away, a strand of guilt remains there at all the times you were mean to her before. A part of you wishes you could blame your foolishness on the declining state of your health.

“Thank you.” you tell her, and you think Soojin sees through it all and you think she knows you’re about to cry so in the next moment she’s slamming the door shut and points to her ears with her index finger.

“I can’t hear you!” her voice is muffled by the glass of the window and it’s more than ample room for your chuckles to fill the car and gains you a strange look from your uber driver.

On your way home a gentle rain grazes the rooftops across the city, and the sky remains gray even when you’re inside your apartment. You change your clothes and sneak into your very comfortable warm pajamas. You sniffle as you brew your close to 50th cup of green tea this week. Silence fills every corner and despite your throbbing body you realize you’re not sure what to do if you’re not working.

You have been working for as long as you remember, have taken up part-time jobs as soon as you were conscious enough to digest the fact that money was everything. Especially in your case so you always remembered to suck it up. Even when you were sixteen waiting tables in a shitty diner and your boss had thrown inappropriate comments your way daily. You sucked it up. and sure, you have had days off and you have fallen sick before, but it’s been so long. That you feel like a stranger in your apartment when it’s light outside, when your body knows you should be working.

That, accompanied by the fact that the silence gives voice to your thoughts, for your anxiety to bloom and before you gain enough power to shut it down you have already dived into them. Your mind drifting to all the events you have been too busy to think about.

Niki.

Jake

Niki

Jake

Niki.

You rub the sides of your head with your fingers and then you’re taking your hot cup of tea into your living room. You sit on your couch with a groan at the throb persisting in your limbs. You reach for your phone and take small sips of your tea when you dial the number of your friend.

“Thick or regular?” Heeseung asks as soon as he picks up your call.

“Uh-“ you blink at the black screen of your tv “What are we talking about exactly?”

“Soy sauce.” He answers, the voice of strangers around him gives away his crowded surroundings.

“I didn’t even know there’s such thing as thick soy sauce.”

“Apparently thickness is taking over the world. That’s why bbls are a thing yn.” you snort.

“Maybe you should consider getting one.” A clear offended gasp from Heeseung cuts through and for a moment you would think you have insulted the entirety of his family tree.

“Okay I’m surrounded by soy sauce and you’re talking about how flat my ass is I’m so overwhelmed right now.” The gravity coating every word of his has you bursting out in laughter “It’s not like I’m getting backshots soon.” He adds and you choke on your laughter, your tea almost burns the skin of your thigh if you aren’t careful enough.

“I will be the one doing backshots,” you can almost hear the prideful smirk in his voice.

“Okay moving on from you and your shots.” You snort sounding somewhere between disgusted and petrified “Are you at the supermarket?” you ask, placing your cup on the table and adjusting your legs on the couch.

“Yeah. I forgot to make an order of Soy Sauce for the restaurant, so my dad is punishing me by making me go buy some.”

“You seem to be having fun so is it really a punishment?” you chuckle, leaning your head against one of the pillows and for a moment your headache subsides for a bit. Heeseung hums an agreement.

“What’s up with you? you sound like shit.” He asks after a few beats of silence.

“Thanks, I only heard that like ten times today.”

“Are you sick?”

“Probably. I’m really overwhelmed right now too.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Unalloyed concern clads his tone, and you sink into quietness for a few seconds before sighing.

“I’m honestly still really worried about Niki.” You mumble.

“What did that fucker do?” The sound of a child crying rises in the background and your head slightly pounds at the noise.

“Nothing. I’m just worried about him. I know he said he’s gonna retake his tests, but he has never failed anything in his life Hee.” You lie flat on your back and the sound of crying grows louder “Never. Even when he was in and out of hospitals so I can’t help but worry about him.” You add.

“Yeah I know – hold on-“ there’s shuffling on the other line. Heeseung’s voice grows a tad further but still coherent enough for you to hear “Hey can you stop being a little bitch?” The sound of crying abruptly stops and you blink rapidly at your ceiling with attempts to make sense of what’s going on.

“Or go fucking cry and be a little bitch in a different aisle.” He adds and then there’s an unsettling silence. It doesn’t last long, and it’s interrupted by a loud wail followed by an ear piercing “MOM!!”

“Kids these days am I right?” Heeseung says, voice clearer and tone nonchalant.

“Heeseung did you just call a kid a little bitch?”

“Yeah. Anyways back to Niki,” you open and close your mouth a handful of times, closer to speechless but then you’re shaking your heard with reminders that this is Heeseung and at this point in your lives it’s little that surprises you with him.

“Yeah anyways. I was wondering if you know anything about what's going on with him? Maybe he felt comfortable talking to you about it.”

“Not really. He’s been acting the same too.” He replies and you faintly exhale. Feeling a little defeated and lost with what to do with your worry “If you’re that worried about his grades dropping, I can talk to him about doing less shifts at the restaurant until his exams are over.” He adds with a hum, seeming a bit absentminded “I don’t know if he’ll be happy about it though.”

You try to let his words permeate your mind with inhuman effort and as you tilt your head at nothing in particular it takes you 10 seconds to comprehend what he just said. You sit up with confusion and then shock pushing you forward.

“Hold on,” you suck in a breath and your brows scrunch “What do you mean shifts? He’s been working at the restaurant?”

“Shit yeah. it’s been a while now. You didn't know?”

“What the fuck? No I didn't know. Why would you give him a job Hee? You know his body can’t handle it.” you berate, frustration woven in your tone.

“I don’t fucking know bro. he told me he needed the money, so I gave him one.”

“Did he tell you what he needed the money for? He has been selling his paintings online why would he need more money out of nowhere.” You run your hand through your hair tiredly, your body growing hot and you aren’t sure if its irritation manifesting in your veins or a fever.

“I really don’t know yn.” Heeseung sighs on the other line “But either way I’ll talk to him when he comes into work later. Don’t worry.”

“That would be good, thank you.” you reply, not worrying is an impossible task.

“Of course.”

“I’ll talk to him about everything properly once I’m over this cold or whatever it is. I don’t want him to get sick.” You say falling back onto the couch and stretching your legs. They weigh heavy and your heart feels heavier in your chest.

“Yeah, you better rest for now. I’ll talk to you later and text me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

As soon as you hang up, your anxiety seems to have doubled, Like ghosts swarming by your feet and slowly it feels like they’re taking over every cell of your essence. A strand of penitence comes to life in the midst of it all and you can’t help but wonder if perhaps were negligent of Niki due to how messy your life has been these past few months. Did you not pay enough attention to his struggles? How long has it been and when did he ever need anything and didn’t feel comfortable to tell you? Was there a stretching distance between you that you hadn’t noticed?

The thought is terrifying to you, it shakes you from within and when you check the time on your phone, it feels like it hasn’t moved ever since you stepped foot into your apartment. You close your eyes with a shuddered breath

Somewhere along the worries plaguing your mind like permanently sharpened needles and your hands digging for solution you manage to doze off on your couch. Curled with your knees held to your chest and wrapped with your arms. You aren’t sure how long you slept. It’s long enough for the rain to subside and short enough for the gray clouds to remain. The sky, mystified by the lack of light and night, is yet to unfurl.

The only reason that’s strong enough to pull you out of your sleep is the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your walls. And at first you think it’s a part of your dream but you’re picking apples and they’re crispy red and shiny but there’s a dying fish by your feet and who the fuck is at your door?

You open your eyes with a croaky groan. Your head pounds with an even worse migraine and your stomach is clenching in excruciating building nausea. You sit up and if you thought you felt awful earlier then it’s nothing compared to this. Like every bone in your body is aching and your fingers itch with an urge like sneaking through your flesh and squeezing tight.

Your doorbell rings again and this time it’s repeated, wrapped in evident panic at the lack of response from you and you finally decide to move. Shuffling to your door and maybe you are still in a hazy dream because as soon as you open your door Jake is standing there. Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that has you blinking into reality. His hair is undone, falling over his eyes naturally and his skin glimmers just the same. He looks like he just showered, and you almost don’t recognize him in his plain white sweatshirt topped with a brown jacket and jeans.

You eye him scrutinizingly, taking note of the two plastic bags he’s carrying.

“Jake? What are you doing here?” your voice is shattered, tinted by the remnant of your sleep and then confusion.

“Yn.” he exhales as if he’s relieved, he’s not stumbling upon your corpse and instead you’re alive “Jay told me you were sick and I was gonna send you some stuff but uh – “ he speaks hastily, hand scratching at the back of his neck and eyes fleeing from you and his words almost as scattered as your thoughts and perhaps that’s why it feels like you don’t understand anything he’s saying. His gaze finds you and he clear his throat. Almost like he falters at your silence.

You must be really sick or still dreaming.

“Anyways are you okay?” He asks hastily yet gently, and he remains gentle in the way his voice infiltrates your being, benign in the way he looks at you as his gaze darts over your figure and then they linger on the discomfort painting your features. It has his own brows furrowing deeper with growing concern.

He tells himself he shouldn’t be this panicked – this nervous. Shouldn’t let it show so obviously, clearer than the gray skies. Albeit he had practiced every word he wanted to say to you, all the excuses he was ready to spill upon finding his way to your home. Uninvited and perhaps unwelcome. For fuck’s sake he thinks he bought the entirety of the small convince store close to your apartment building and there’s embarrassment brewing in his blood, his excuses withering at the tip of his tongue the deeper your discomfort seep into your face.

And no words of his permeates your mind strong enough and instead all you could think about is your head is pounding, and you need to sit down or bash it against the wall. It’s solely why you don’t say anything back and instead turn around in search of relief.

“Yn.” Jake calls with scattered disconcertment as he follows you inside, the plastic bags are a hassle, and he curses himself yet remembers to close the door behind him and his voice echoes through your mind and your living the room when he calls again “Bunny.”

You sit down on your previous spot on your couch, the room is darkened by your blinds and when you bury your head in the palms of your hands it’s not quick enough for you to not witness Jake kneeling in front of you with no hesitation, his bags abandoned on the floor as if he hadn’t spent wasting minutes on deciding what to get, what’s best for you. he doesn’t touch you and his hand hovers awkwardly above your back and yet you swear you could feel its heat as if he is touching you.

“Bunny what’s wrong? Are you dizzy?” his voice betrays an unsubdued concern almost frantic, and you deny his question with a shake of your head.

“Can you talk to me? I wanna be able to help you okay?” He gently coaxes and you keep quiet because you could still sense his hand hovering, and you wonder why can’t his hand be as gentle “Can you tell me what you’re feeling? Mhm?” he suggests once again.

“My head hurts so bad.” You whimper and it feels so silly, the urge percolating into you to cry. It’s the type of pain that makes you wish you could peel your skin off. Abandon your skull somewhere.

“Okay.” He stands up and you peer up at him through your palms and he’s looking around as if he’s trying to decide what he should do next. Evidently nervous as he runs his hand through his hair “Painkillers. I’ll get you some painkillers.” And then he’s walking towards one of the bags he was carrying, digging through them with seemingly no avail as he curses under his breath.

“Fucking hell how did I forget to buy painkillers?” He berates himself, digging into the second bag only to end with failure. “Do you have any painkillers?” He asks looking up at you and the sight of you on your couch huddled up in pain even if it’s something as minor as a mere headache sends the same ache dripping from your fingertips and nestling its way right to the middle of his chest, digging and digging.

He doesn’t wait for your answer and seconds pass by and then you hear him rummaging through the cabinets of your kitchen. His search doesn’t last long thanks to the painkillers you had left on the counter this morning with complementation. You feel his presence and there’s a glass of water in his hand.

“This will make you feel better. Come on bunny.”

He’s standing in front of you again and weirdly enough the way he speaks as if the autumn sunlight is in his voice rather than the cruel winter outside makes you feel vulnerable and when he offers comfort in the palm of his hand, places the glass of water on the table you could only manage to shake your head once again with denial.

“I’m really nauseous and I don’t feel like I could take anything right now without throwing up.” You complain with a snivel and your tone breaks as if you’re about to shed tears and Jake feels it hit him in the pit of his stomach. It’s uncomfortable and unjust because despite how scratched and heavy his heart is your pain still manages to nip at him in different places. As if there’s no way for him not to feel you.

You leer at him and your eyes are misty, you see his hands clench then unclench by his sides and you imagine he’s fighting against restraints to not touch you. His teeth sink into his bottom lips, his fingers dig crescents into the tender skin of his palm. And you wonder how a feeling as tender manages to suffuse within you. You wonder how your mind finds room amidst the pain to fantasize about him when he is right in front of you.

But then Jake is kneeling right by your knees once again and your eyes widen only slightly when he replaces your hands with his. Pressing his thumbs into your temples.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh. Doing this helps me with my headaches sometimes.” He explains and you shut your eyes when he applies light pressure with his fingers. And yet you are overly aware of how wavering you persist to be.

You’re unsure if you’re dizzy because your body is catching up to how weary you feel or because he’s suddenly so close. Close enough to feel his breath hit your face, the pads of his fingers are rough and yet contrastingly warm and it’s been so long since he touched you.

“Is there anything else that’s hurting you?” He asks – whispers delicately - after a few moments of silence with only the sound of your intermingled breaths.

“My body hurts too.” You reply – whisper back just as delicately - and you can’t fight against the small pout jutting your bottom lip out. You think if you were in the right state of mind, you’d be cringing at how dramatic you’re acting.

“Thankfully you don’t seem to be having a fever.” The swipes of his thumbs circle your skin soothingly “You’ll be okay.” He reassures, applying harder pressure every now and then. For a fleeting moment you aren’t sure if he’s trying to comfort you or himself.

“I have you.” it’s a faint whisper. Barely inaudible and for a different fleeting moment it feels like a lie your sick mind had conjured up to feed your thirsting heart. The same fragile heart that pulsates against your ribcage and you don’t want it to be a lie or a heedless imagination.

“Do you promise?” you childishly ask, and Jake lets out a breathy chuckle that tickles your face. You open your eyes, and they prance around his. The chuckle that has melted onto a small smile slowly disappears from his face and you don’t know what kind of expression you’re wearing, what kind of mask you should be hiding behind.

“I promise.” He replies and you sigh because you don’t know if he means that you’ll be okay or that he’s got you, but you hold onto the latter. With clutches roughened by the selfishness of your own longing and shut your eyes with silly covets like not unveiling it.

It’s only when enough time has passed for your body to relax. No longer tense shoulders and shuddered breaths. Instead, the tranquil silence that has settled right between you two settles in the depths of your chest just the same as Jake speaks;

“Better?” He asks.

“Mhm.”

“Do you think you could try taking the painkiller now?”

“Yeah.” you clear your throat, pushing your eyes to open when his hands abandon your skin, and you wish you lied.

Even for a bit longer as he hands you the pills, he had picked up earlier followed by water that you chug diligently and it’s only when your glass is empty that you exhale. Wiping at the corner of your mouth at the few straying drops. He eyes you tentatively when you look up at him.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” His eyebrows furrow in clear confusion.

“For troubling you. Being a burden. I don’t know.” you slightly wince, eyes shifting somewhere else before catching his yet again and he abides unremitting.

“You’re not a burden bunny.” You can sense there’s more that linger at the tip of his tongue, and you wait “I’m here because I was worried about you.” he finishes and your cheeks splash with pink evoked to steal his attention by your pale face.

“Does your body still hurt?” He asks when you’re quiet for far too long, with running gazes and nerves colored hands and pretends he didn’t feel his face burning up at his confession.

“A bit.” You answer, scratching at your wrist and clearing your throat “Can you hand me my laptop, please?” you ask, pointing somewhere behind him and he raises a displeased eyebrow at you.

“For what?”

“There’s a couple of stuff I need to get done.”

“Like what? What’s so important that you need to do now?”

“Bills. Rent is due soon and there’s Yeonjun’s car fees. I was gonna do them earlier but I ended up falling asleep.” You explain, rubbing your forehead warily and the space between his brows deepen with confusion.

“Car fees?” he questions and you nod as if he’s supposed to understand “yeah I need to pay him. I need my laptop.” You move to stand up and your head is spinning a bit but you don’t get to make it far before his hands are on your shoulders pushing you to sit back down and then Jake is on his knees again, chasing after your eyes with a tilt of his head.

You wish he wouldn’t kneel so easily, as if he won’t swallow your heart up and flee.

“Are they urgent?” He asks tenderly and your chest tightens as if there isn’t enough room for your breaths to leave.

“No but I have to do them right now.” You insist with a shaky voice when his hands cradle your face with loving forbearance, one that has you feeling languid.

“Shh, you don’t need to do anything right now, okay?” he reassures as if you were panicked and perhaps you were, you aren’t sure if it’s because of your lack of work or simply because Jake is in the same space as you and you aren’t sure how to act without vomiting words lodged at the back of your throat.

I've missed you so much that I've been naming the stars in the sky after you.

“You’re on sick leave for a reason. Your body needs rest.” His thumb swipes at your cheek and his face is within centimeters of yours “You can do all of these things tomorrow or whenever you feel better, okay?” you let a shuddered breath out and for a second it feels like looking away from him is unobtainable, not when his gaze glints with golden specks, ones that feels like they are reserved for you.

“Okay.” You whisper back, overtaken by defeat and perhaps you never stood a chance.

“Good.” He grins, overtaken by triumphant.

Strands of his black hair fall over his face, and you don’t think you have ever felt this much envy towards anything aside from a human being. Your fingers itch on your lap with temptation to push it out of the way yet you hold yourself back, despite the lure entangled in every move he makes. You are too aware of the distance, too aware of the space you shouldn’t cross, and you will enough power not to slip again.

You fall into silence with purpose, mainly because you feel like a cuddled child and yet you have this growing fear inside of you. It slithers its path to your flickering glances, right into the skin of his palms as he strokes your cheeks. You’re so awfully scared of splitting yourself open, baring your insides and submitting your soul to disaster.

“How about I run you a bath?” He suggests with a slight hum, and you shake your head when his hands trail to your knees.

“No.”

“Why not? It will help you feel better.”

“I don’t really wanna move right now.” As if to prove your point you lie down on the couch, your hair spread like a halo around you and although the room is enveloped in darkness, and everything falls into one color he swears he could almost see the sunrays infiltrating through your strands. its warmth travels to him and he almost want to spread his arms wide open to welcome it.

And perhaps it is enough force to coaxes his smile to rise – his eyes sink into excruciating benevolence and there you are stumbling yet again. Unable to look away from him, not when he’s everything you wish to behold. It pushes you into folding your desire into itself. Tucking it into the space none of you dare to take.

“Weren’t you just fine moving a second ago to get your laptop?”

“That’s different.” You argue with a shrug, making no attempts to further strengthen your point.

“It will be warm, and it will help with soothing the ache in your body.” He says, try to persuade you with a hum and the air tastes fragile, enticing you with an ache to bury your face in the middle of his chest and sing a melody of your name into it, tattoo your name into the canvas of his soul, or maybe it’s you.

“My ache is fine actually, thank you.”

“Oh yeah? is that why your legs are shaking?” he arches a brow at you, smile tilting upwards as if they’re claiming to reach for the stars and you look down at your body, haven’t realized the slight tremble wrecking through it.

“That’s because I’m cold.”

Wordlessly he shrugs off his brown jacket and places it over your lower body, covering your legs and it provides little to no warmth but the scent of laundry detergent engulfs your being. It waters your fervent longing back to the surface. Drowning you in it and you wish to drown in everything that makes up Jake. You didn’t know you could miss someone when they’re right in front of you and you didn’t quite grasp how hard it is to shake the hallucinating thoughts of him – where touching him isn’t forbidden and looking at him comes easily – without threats for your words to spill.

“What about you?” you mumble, pointing at his thin , almost see through sweatshirt.

“I can handle the cold just fine.” He retorts “You know what would help you warm up though? A bath.”

“I’m gonna feel cold as I undress to get into the bathtub.”

“I’ll make it really warm to make up for the few minutes of coldness you’re gonna feel.” He counteracts with a chuckle emerging from his lips and landing right in the middle of your heart. You’re quiet, as if you’re contemplating his words and he thinks he won as your eyes flit elsewhere – he misses you.

“What if the water is too hot it burns my skin?” you ask, softly and yet seriously enough for him to feel the same feeling welling in the pit of his stomach again – as if a flower is fighting its way to bloom through cracks of sorrow and he isn’t sure how to deal with it.

The sunrays, the flowers and the sorrow. He won.

“I’ll make sure nothing like that happens to you.” he replies, just as softly as tender as gingerly. And it’s unfair because you feel your heart palpitate at his mere existence and you already know he won the minute he stepped foot in here.

“How about this,” he straightens, pushes his hair away from his face and you’re envious at his hands and grateful all at once for granting you a clearer glimpse to his features “I’ll go run the bath. Make sure everything is perfect for you and then if you still feel like you don’t want to go in, you don’t have to, okay?”

You don’t think you’re brave enough to accept his kindness as it is. You will always manage to find different facets of it. Dress it in the intensity of affection and stare at his smile as if spilled lullabies are woven to call for their home – within your soul.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

He shushes you and when he stands up, his hand lingers above your head. His own urges – hankerings to brush through your hair betray themselves in the flicker of light in his gaze so you cowardly look away because you’re scared of betraying your burning heart in yours. Scared of being rejected and falling between the walls of whys.

“I’ll be back.” He whispers, flown away and you could still smell the rain on your skin.

Your house – a small apartment is the complete opposite of his. He never was into the intricacies of home décor. Hence why the space of his home remains plain and simple. His own touches of life lacking and the only thing close to boisterous are his forget me nots and the painting that somehow managed to lead back to you.

You, however, stay lively with scattered hanged pictures of Japan across the walls. And your dessert shaped candles, your bathroom smells like Sakura petals, and you manage to inject your love into everything you surround. He thinks he likes it here.

He’s gone for two minutes only; the bath is half full when you peak your head through the door of your own bathroom. Your hair is disheveled, and his jacket is now around your shoulders.

“Changed your mind?” He asks with a grin that churrs your insides.

“The thought of a bath didn’t seem so bad after all.” You answer as you step inside. You take a seat on the closed toilet seat and watch as Jake reads the back label of your pink bubble bath soap, his nose scrunches a little too adorably as if he is displeased of what it contains. Your heart warms at the sight and he still pours a generous amount of it into the tub, filling it with bubbles and then he follows it with your bodywash.

The scent of vanilla overtakes the Sakura.

“This smells just like you.”

“It is my bodywash after all.”

“I like it.” He says, eyes drifting to the water as he tests the temperate with his hands. How I smell or merely the scent? you want to ask but you don’t.

When the water is warm and full. He trudges towards you, his cheeks are slightly pink due to the heat and there’s a soft smile dispersing across his lips with coated fondness. It steals your breath away when he’s leaning down and taking off your socks for you. You slightly flinch with a bout of embarrassment.

“Y-You don’t have to do this Jake.” You fumble diffidently, with your words and your racing heart.

“I know.” He looks up at you “I want to. Am I making you uncomfortable?” He questions throwing your socks to the side. You’re left to wonder how you are supposed to accept his integrity, his attentiveness, the unfair ability to have you wavering on this warmth of his.

“No.” you admit, with a rattled breath and perhaps the tilt of his lips is worth it.

“Can I?” He still asks when his hands reach for the buttons of your pajama top, you shrug his jacket off and nod with a burning face.

Silence rushes in unwelcomed, and your keep your gaze downcast. watch as his fingers seemingly slower than you wish unbutton every single one. Your heart picks up speed with each one and breathing grows harder when your eyes dart towards his and yet still vacillating. Because it is not lust that fetters the air but rather something that feels much more intimate. Like exchanging words between your gazes that your tongue will not be able to match.

And it stays even when you’re finally in the bathtub. Encircled by a familiar scent, warmth and Jake at the edge of your tub. The water is as pleasant as he promised, and your body relaxes.

“Just call for me if you need anything, alright?”

Suddenly you’re inundated with a colossal amount of disappointment at being left alone. Your eyes shifting, fingers picking at the surface of your tub.

“Alright, bunny?” He asks again and maybe it is your tiresome tinting all logical thinking that you should have but then you’re shaking your head, kicking your pride to the side.

“What if I need something but I can’t call for you?” stupid, stupid yearning.

Jake looks perplexed for a few seconds, but his expression is softened by a fond smile. He had broken hearts before – not intentionally. And he never was the man to listen to others strives to grasp for his affectionate. And yet in this moment, he’d rather have you break his heart than refuse what your eyes are seeking.

“I’ll just stay then.” He tells you, tender and you’re shy. Cheeks glowing pink and he feels his fondness for you trickle into his blood and it bumps faster, rougher through his veins when you catch his gaze.

You lean back into the tub with your lips slightly tilting, pushing the entirety of your hair to the side. The ends swim alongside you and stray rivulets of water slips down your neck. Catching his gaze as it lingers for a minute too long on the necklace that’s always there.

It's just you, unadulterated with the weather outside and draped with effulgence as he always knew you to be. And it’s him, without the echoes of all his doubtful battles. Perhaps he managed to empty his mind in the water and your necklace – his – remains around your neck even when you’re bare. It’s like you’re wearing him, and he likes to think he’s woven into the fabric of your soul.

He looks away for a spilt second, a puff of a chuckle forces its way past his lips.

“What?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with a growing smile and God – you’re breathtaking.

“I just had a stupid thought.” He shakes his head, and the water slightly splashes when you move closer to him.

“Tell me.” you say, and he thinks you’re too tangled in his soul.

“It just feels like it’s been a while since we looked at each other.” He says softly “But we see each other every day so it’s stupid.” He continues and recognition fills your eyes like you know exactly what he means.

“It’s not stupid.” you reply, and you are too tangled in his soul “I have actual stupid thoughts all the time. And you know it.”

“They’re extraordinary, I wouldn’t call them stupid.”

“That’s just a nicer way of saying I’m stupid.” You retort with a playful snort; your smile remains soft.

“Shut up you’re not stupid.” He insists and a comparable softness traverse in his irises and it pushes you right into quietness.

You never were one for silence. Because silence is uncomfortable and it’s vast with its weight. It vocalizes everything you’ve been trying to evade all day, perhaps all week or maybe it’s been long enough to be called months. However, right now it doesn’t feel like that. It’s akin to placid waters, your reflection comes back crystalline clear rather than distorted.

“You’re the last person I expected it to see today if I’m being honest.” You speak after stretching minutes of none of you saying anything, fingers drawing star shapes into the water and his eyes watch you with faithful attention.

“What would have you done if I wasn’t here?” He doesn’t ask why, and you wonder if he knows or is merely uninterested.

“Probably become one with my couch until I felt better.” You shrug and he shakes his head with a tsk of disapproval. For an odd reason a knot forms in your stomach, impossibly tight and the skin of your neck ignites in flame. You tell yourself you’re growing too hot and that’s it.

“I wish you took care of yourself the way you take care of others.” He says, candor embraces every syllable with ease. A similar knot forms in the middle of your tongue. Deeming it useless. There is no peace in confessing that you aren’t sure how to do that. Not when you have spent a lifetime with amiability directed at anyone but yourself.

“I don’t think I know how to do that.” There’s no peace in confessing yet you still do it. Perhaps you were tired of trying to light a matchstick that refuses to obey, his eyes mellow down into nothing but adoration.

Was there a point in trying to save someone that refuses to be saved?

But Jake hasn’t been acting like himself. Following his impulses blindly, it’s evoked by the callings of his heart, yearning to be near so he showed up to your door like there’s room for him. He touched you like he wasn’t made from poison and he can scour through every rational thought but they’re all adjudged futile against the softness that is you.

“I’m here now.” He says, I’m here to take care of you, you hear.

The enormity of his desire disgusts him, it’s a craving beyond his flesh and it’s unjust. I’ll shape myself into something that’s worth taking care of you, he means.

“You have been working hard, your body is probably upset with you.” He adds when you’re quiet, eyes darting over your dubious figure and he thinks your cheeks have drained the colors from the world, they’re pink and the sky is gray.

He’s unworthy but it’s a great honor to think he’s the reason why.

“Tell that to my boss.” You joke and Jake narrows his eyes at you.

“I actually heard your boss is super nice,”

“Did you now?”

“Uh huh, super nice and handsome too. Ripped body. Killer smile. I could go on forever. Really.” He trails, lowering his fingers one by one and you roll your eyes with a forced giggle tumbling out your lips, one that you cannot seem to be able to hold back.

“Who’s feeding you these lies? Jay?”

“So, you don’t agree that I’m handsome?”

“Beauty is subjective.”

“Is that a no?” a look of faux offense clambers over his face and your giggle uprears in volume, grows further from fatigue and closer to how you usually sound. You pretend to zip your mouth shut, raising palms in surrender as if you can’t help it.

A deeper umbrage takes claim on his face, and he attempts to splash water at you, you turn your head with a laugh, and he sees Sakura petals bloom across your face, they come from within, watered by you.

“In all seriousness,” he itches closer to you. and your smile melts off your face at the sudden propinquity it has your body engulfed in heat that isn’t provided by the bath. His fingers trail underwater, and when his eyes catch yours, they’re soaked with softness and your reflection is so clear. when his fingers graze yours, they fail to intertwine, and your heart is beating so fast you feel like you could throw It up.

“You’re doing a good job, bunny.” Your eyes soften as marginally, you bring your knees up to your chest. Attempts to hide the joy that overtakes your sentiment – the warmth that caresses your heart. You allow yourself to bask in it and a faint voice whispers in your heart;

You have managed to stumble on a lost star – he shines so brightly and burns just as bright. And he calls for you in a sea of flesh.

“You’re doing a good job too, Jake.” He smiles and your mind careens.

“Tell that to my assistant.”

This time it’s you who splashes him with water and this time it’s him who laughs like the world shrinks into nothing but you and him in the middle of your small bathroom. And you smile like your heart has never known pain, but you don’t tell him that you didn’t let the water get to him on purpose, and you don’t show him that love writes itself in the corners of your face.

“Shall I help you wash your hair?” He asks when his laughter had died down and the glint in his eyes shines brighter.

“You don’t have to.”

At your answer he’s already getting up, hands reaching for your bottle of shampoo. When he’s behind you, hands entangled in your hair. You bury your face in your knees with a profound urge to weep taking over your sensitive heart. It’s foolishly emerging from the fog of your confusion at the reminder that you don’t remember the last time someone cared for you this deeply, this tenderly. And there’s unavoidable loneliness at the thought, there’s melancholy in the feeling, knowing that this tenderness is temporary.

No matter how selfishly you hope for it to last. Your mind is a battlefield, haunted by touches of love. Stories upon stories stitched together by great ardor. You have seen it all around you, in movies, written in pages of a novel and in ending relationships your friends had gone through – none of them are yours.

“Bunny I can’t wash your hair if you’re leaning that far off.” Jake comments with a chuckle.

You keep quiet, too embarrassed to cry over something as inevitable as Jake leaving. Too ashamed of the covetous ache brimming in your blood. You have tried to discard it, but you aren’t sure how are you supposed to drain your blood without kneeling into death.

Jake follows your silence. Maybe he thinks you’re stubbornly childish, maybe he thinks you’re teasing him or maybe he sees it through it all and your weakness is unabashed and it’s a glaring red siren coaxing him into the complexity of your essence. You don’t see him, but you feel him moving behind you, the sound of a lid uncapping and then his hands are on your back with lathered soup, vanilla fills the empty spaces of silence.

His hands aren’t soft against your skin, they’re rough, washed raw and dry. You could almost distinguish every scar that embellishes them, the healing ones, old ones you haven’t been there to witness taint his skin. His sadness – unrelenting guilt is unabashed, and you never knew such callous hands could be this gentle.

It’s another stupid thought – but maybe there’s room for something to belong to you.

When the sun sets outside. The lights in your hallway stay the same. While Jake takes an alarmingly long time to wash his hands. Long enough for enervation to sink deeper into your bones, it drains the color from your face. and it transpires itself into imaginary leg cuffs around your ankles making your movement closer to a harder task than breathing.

You somehow feel even more tired, dragged further down the hole of sickness.

“You okay?” He asks when he finds you in your bedroom, sitting on your velvet vanity chair and clothed in your robe. Your hair is slightly damp and the colors of the sun leaving seeps in through the openings of your curtains.

“Just a little tired.” You answer, throwing a glance at his direction and it leaves him wondering – perhaps for days – how you manage to look like you stepped out of the painting of his dreams.

In his dreams, his heart isn’t as filthy and merging into you isn’t as fearful.

In reality, he clears his throat and steps into your room, inhales your perfume and envelopes his filthy heart with faux courage.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Mhm.” You lean your head back onto his chest when he’s standing behind you. He conceals his surprise with immense force, not fast enough for the betrayal of his slightly widened eyes. cinnamon and vanilla overtake his senses, your face is doused in exhaustion and his mind is fuzzy.

“Not yet.” He inhales you.

“We’ll need to get some food in your system, yeah?” He whispers and you hum, eyes falling shut when he tentatively brushes his fingers through your hair “We’ll also need to do something about your hair – can’t have you getting sicker.”

“I don’t feel like doing anything.” You faintly complain, a small pout adorning your lips when you look up at him, the sunset glimmers in your eyes and reality pales in comparison.

“I’ll do it for you.” He replies with an amused grin at the way you’re acting. It gives room for the moon to rise.

You aren’t sure what he means by that – however a long sigh caged in your chest escapes when he starts brushing your hair. He’s extremely gentle, fingers coated in delicacy that you don’t even provide for your own hair. And there’s a peculiar domesticity painting the air. As if this was how everything was meant to unfold. For you to eventually end up here and for him to be behind you through it all.

“I never thought that the Jake Sim would be good at braiding hair.” You comment lightly when he starts sectioning your hair, he catches your eyes in the mirror.

“My mum taught me.” he mumbles, eyes returning to his work and seeming completely focused on your hair “I used to braid her hair for her all the time.”

“That’s really sweet.” You reply with a lowered tone – a hushed softness and Jake is quiet for a few moments. You think his words die here but then he speaks again.

“I vividly remember how each time the braid grew smaller and smaller because she kept losing so much hair.” His words flow as easy as autumn breeze, bittered by the winter as if the image is still fresh in his head. Rather than a distant memory. It’s an image that still glides throughout his reality.

“She always joked that it’s better this way. That it’s easier for me to braid.” He chuckles but it lacks life, joy, and his eyes deepen with distant – longing and your heart tightens, brows slightly furrowing at his undeniable grief.

I’m sorry. Lingers at the tip of your tongue but you’re well aware that’s not the kind of words that will bring him peace. It won’t ease his pain or lessen the depth of his sadness – anger. You’re well aware not to act upon the urges clashing inside of you. truthfully you want to know everything about him. The thoughts that invade his mind at night, in the mornings and right now when he’s dozing off with pieces of you in between his fingers.

What is he like when his anger isn’t restrained – what is he like when he’s not bottling everything up and what would it be like to peek into his sorrowful river. You don’t give room for yourself to decipher the cause of this urge. You know it’s not trivial curiosity, but rather the desire to peer into the corners of his souls. Like a book you wish to read, your fingers itching. Yet you manage to hold yourself back. You smile and night has painted the sky.

“She sounds like a lively woman.”

“She is.” He says absentmindedly while his hands braid the ends of your hair “She was.” He corrects in a fleeting second “She was the type of person to find happiness even on the darkest and gloomiest days.”

Jake’s lament displays itself in the floods of his existence with no shame. There’s softness twined in his gaze; one that appears naturally at the mention of a person he holds so dearly to his heart, yet the bitterness abides part of it all. It’s a wound that had yet to stop aching in pain, to stop bleeding. He doesn’t know why he tells you all this and doesn’t know how the words slipped out of his mouth but his eyes stumble upon yours there’s not a single cell of regret in his body.

You don’t look at him with pity nor sympathy. Jake had showed off his scars to you and you still look at him like it’s just – him. Not his shame, or grief. His existence had always felt like a garden of black and red agonies. Had seen it tickle down his cheeks with rivulets of his sorrow, witnessed the blood seep out his fingers and drench the ground with every step he takes. But you’re there, in the midst of it all and you’re not looking at him with disdain. Instead, you flourish with ease, as if he isn’t made of prickling thorns.

“I’m sure she’s still watching over you, proudly.” You tell him with a fragile smile, and it shouldn’t shake his soul the way it does. He looks away with a slight tremble in his hand. A labored breath and he can’t say anything back to you. You don’t look at him as shame or grief and he can’t let you look at him as his regret, his guilt.

Jake is made up of a garden tainted with black and red agonies – his remorse remains a master of it all. He doesn’t find enough courage to come face to face with the fact that it’s not that. That if his mother knew, if you knew how he lived his life. Glory has no place to exist. So, instead he grins and ties your hair for you.

“All done.”

“Wow! it’s really well done actually.” You say, bringing your hair to the front and staring at it, between your hands. A pang of ache nestles its way into his stomach and it’s peculiar to feel like you’re holding a piece of him so delicately.

“it’s just one of my many talents.” He quips and you giggle slightly.

You keep your eyes glued to your hair and he senses something shifting in your eyes and your lips cast downwards faster than he’d like. He senses a realization in you unfold as your brows start to furrow.

“My mom,” you speak suddenly and then you’re looking at him, a smile doused in sorrow similar to his is on your face “my mom never really taught me anything.” You murmur like a confession pulled from the depths of your soul. For a moment he thinks he sees your scars too, they’re raw and have yet to stop bleeding, he thinks he tastes your heartache on your tongue.

It’s bitter and doesn’t belong in you.

“You still turned out wonderful.” He says, every word, tone is inundated with sincerity and your eyes flit to his with purpose to steal his heart. They glimmer and he wonders how envious the moon must be – he wonders if there’s room for him to linger around.

“You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m sick.” You joke lightly, you ended up baring your insides after all.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He whispers, not colored with amuse like you had hoped.

“No.” you answer, and you think you can’t slip when you have already fallen, and he smiles like he knows he won.

You realize it then – how scary intimacy truly is. Not the one evoked by lust and hunger but this one. The one that saturates the air with vulnerability. Baring your soul with its ugly scratches, your hideous mistakes while blind to everything that’s coming your way.

And he realizes it then – that there’s so much of you he has yet to unveil, he sees parts of you everywhere, in the love you spill into everything you do. And in your so ever called hope. Jake was never optimistic. Life hadn’t given him the privilege to be and somewhere in the darkened nights in his garden he lost the ability to believe in such an intangible thing as hope. So, he wonders why he wishes for your hope to never wither away. He feels this immense urge to peer into your soul, look through the pages of your book.

You open your mouth to say something and the hairs on his body rise in anticipation to listen with devotion. It’s an odd feeling to thirst for someone like this. Not for their body to touch yours or unload accumulated stress through them but rather to intertwine with him, crave for your hand to mesh into them. How selfish it is, to crave someone this bad, as if he has any right to call you his.

Your phone dings multiple times on your vanity, seemingly with messages and your mouth closes, eyes averting and his anticipation is stripped away, overtaken by disappointment at your fleeting attention.

“Sorry,” you mumble, picking up your phone and going through the notifications. Your brows slightly furrow, and he grows hatred for your phone.

“Is everything okay?” he asks at your lingering worry.

“Yeah um,” your fingers move across your screen as you type to a response to whatever stole your gazes from him “Niki is here?” you add and it comes out more as a question colored with bewilderment.

“Did you know he was coming?”

“No,” you lock your phone and stand up “I told him to come up. He wants to talk to me about something.” You explain further, heading towards your closet in search of clothes to wear. You pull a plain thick sweater over your head, hands reaching for a pair of shorts closest to your hand.

The sound of your door unlocking has Jake’s eyes slightly widening at the speed of your brother. Did he fucking teleport to your floor or what?

“Anyways it probably won’t be long so just stay here.” You add and he cocks a brow at your choice of clothing .

“Are you seriously wearing that?” he asks eyes trailing over your figure.

“Yeah, why?”

“You have been complaining about being cold all day and now you’re wearing shorts? Do you want to die?” you blink at him slowly “Change. Wear something warm.” He adds crossing his arms and tone stern unlike how he has been talking to you gently earlier, it’s slightly amusing and it has your lips twitching upwards.

“Yes boss.” You joke heading for your closet again and he rolls his eye and then your back faces him and you fail to see his smile, it’s adorned with affection.

After changing into thicker pajama pants and gaining a nod of approval from Jake, you make it out to your living room. Niki is on your couch and upon hearing the sound of your steps his eyes shift from the plastic bags on the floor to you. irritation paints his face quickly and you sigh warily.

“What the fuck yn?”

To be continued....

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