#now its more how do i edit this in a way that will keep your attention hooked in the first 10 seconds

[exocynraku]

sorry if this is a bit strange to say but your style is so charming :] are there any specific inspirations you have? ALSO can i ask where you learned anatomy from? drawing cats has always been a pain for me and i’m wondering if you have any tips… and i hope you have a lovely day!!! love your works so much :]

thank you veery much.. warrior cats related? ursiday, lupiine, thunderc1an/rebe adventures, movdotmov, assignedk9, bunnyfarm and many popular warrior cats artists on youtube come to mind. otherwise, a lot of what I take inspiration from is manga. i didn't really learn it from anywhere persay, just practice. if you look at some of my first ever wc designs, i could definitely do better now LOL. i'd love to give you more specific tips but literally how i learn is just draw cats. i drew almost all day every day in early covid days when i wasn't in school, and did like, 10 designs a day. ( i wouldn't recommend doing this though, cause now i have Wrist Pain <3 ). so my best advice to you is just draw cats. i never had a problem with seeing my art as 'bad' because in the beginning i was horrendously egotistical and though whatever my current artstyle at the time was was absolutely peak, but i know a lot of people do, so you really need to push yourself forward. even if you see problems in your art now, you have to keep drawing to rectify them. you could study a hundred art books and go to dozens of dozens of classes and look at tons of tutorials but if you don't actually DRAW anything, you aren't going to learn. if you're experiencing artblock, draw something you like which is easy for you (i usually draw my fursona). etc. the minimal amount of tips i CAN give you is to trace. not in like a post-it-online-claiming-its-yours sort of way, but find an artist you like and trace their pieces. specifically, trace the things you like from them, like the paws or face. i do this not often i would say but enough it's able to help me, plus it usually gets me out of ruts where i don't like certain parts of my art. also, real pictures. i'd say this helps more for things like understanding cat anatomy vs how to stylize it. for resources, i'll give you this and this. i can also say, if you're not liking your art, it might be the brush you're using. change it up, i have TONS downloaded and will spend literally hours finding and editing one to what i like. also, get rid of any idea of an "artstyle". you may develop something concrete eventually, but don't stick yourself to a box in the beginning. also, KEEP EVERYTHING. going back and looking at my old designs and art is extremely entertaining, and it can show you how much you're improved over time. tldr: just draw. it's how i learned. a couple other things, but 90% of it is literally just keep drawing.

[sea-buns]

Holy fuck, man. What a trip Fearne has been on, huh?

You tell her how grateful you are to have her in your life, you flatter her, you tell her you need her, that you have to do this together. You have her make a promise that has this woman, born of chaos and fey, agreeing through shaking hands and a trembling voice.

You make her deceive your friends; you make her follow where they cannot know; you make her help you into this contraption; you make her feed this thing into you despite the fact that you both have been warned extensively of the risks. You make her watch you crumble and splinter and shatter and fracture and burst and implode. You make her watch you die, over and over and over and over, for a minute in agonizing bullet time.

You make her do all these things, because when she tries to back out, when she tries to not be the one who let you do this—how could you do this—

you tell her, "YOU PROMISED."

Because if there's one thing you know, it's that the fey do not break a promise.

[toytulini]

me, stupidly and weirdly resistant to listening to audio books vs reading a physical book for no real reason: man i wish there was a way to like, read a book while i crochet like i do with tv shows and movies and podcasts

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

hai guys :3

[hypnagogics]

You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮‍💨

DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.

nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.

you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.

vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.

a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.

“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.

almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.

see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.

you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.

it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.

then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.

saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.

her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”

you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.

your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and crimson, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.

she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.

vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.

you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.

she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.

her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”

without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.

you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.

the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.

"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.

she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.

her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”

you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.

“yeah, you really are.”

thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)

@andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @wilddrown @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @spncrrdlvr @flowrmoth

[fruit-kick]

going balls deep into a hobby is watching 40 minute videos from 5 years ago about an incredibly specific technique/solution to a problem you're having

[kurohe]

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(i am continually correcting things when people point out mistakes. Thanks everyone for your help)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. Also, resign your amazon prime subscription. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step to not freely give em your data and money

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: imma say this, you should read up on what the risks of stealing are, for you and others. Stealing from big stores is IMO always morally right, but it is risky for many reasons. Be careful)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[7nuh]

MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !

CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence

AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍‍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls

Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of these cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.

Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.

Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.

That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.

He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you in return.

But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.

You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?

What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...

The thought of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?

Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead trying to protect you, even if it means killing someone.

And the thought of you moving on and forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.

It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that dreaded green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.

I can see some of the others like Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited that her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study. Whenever you find yourself 'lost' (escape from Mr. Crawling), they will redirect you back to him.

Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly after you give up <3

You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.

Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Give You the Silent Treatment as a Joke

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

Bang Chan

Decides to give you the silent treatment as a joke, thinking it’ll be funny, since he saw it while scrolling through Instagram

Initially avoids making eye contact and gives only curt nods, completely engrossing himself in his work.

Notices you trying to get his attention but continues the act.

Feels a bit guilty but thinks you’ll laugh it off later.

Realizes the joke has gone too far when you start to tear up.

But he's too busy to notice you've actually started crying until Felix points it out.

Immediately drops the act and rushes to comfort you.

Apologizes profusely, explaining it was just a joke.

Holds you close and reassures you that he never meant to hurt you.

Promises to be more considerate in the future.

Spends extra time with you, making sure you’re okay. Completley forgetting about the work he was doing.

"Aw, baby I could never hate you. It was just a joke I saw it while looking for edits. I promise...you want to watch edits of me? ...But I'm right here?"

Lee Know

Thinks the silent treatment will be a harmless joke. He got the idea from Jisung.

Acts - for lack of better phrase - like an utter bitch.

Is so in character he doesn't notice the way you've started fidgeting anxiously.

Or the way your bottom lip has started to tremble.

Realizes the joke has gone too far when hears you begin to cry.

Breaks character immediately, apologizing - which is saying something since its Minho - and explaining it was a joke.

Pins the blame on Jisung.

Spends the day doing small acts of kindness to make it up to you.

Constantly checks on you to ensure you’re feeling better, since it seems you've distanced yourself.

Vows to never participate in such pranks again.

Gives you a long hug, whispering apologies - which is how you know he is regretful since he's apologized more than once.

"It was Jisung's ideas. I'm sorry. I promise I won't ever listen to any of Jisung's stupid ideas ever again jagiya..."

Changbin

Agrees to the prank since Felix had seen it on tiktok and thought it would be funny for both of them to do it since Felix was the second closest member to you besides your bf.

Keeps his distance and avoids talking to you, often just continuing conversations as if he hadn't heard you.

Feels a bit guilty but sticks to the prank.

Starts to worry when he sees you becoming increasingly upset.

Realizes the prank has gone too far when you start crying.

Immediately scoops you up into his arms and just lets you cry waiting for you to calm down

Felix is apologizing to you while he does this.

Takes the lead in making sure you know he’s genuinely sorry by clinging to you the rest of the day.

Talks 10x more than usual, ensuring you know he never meant to hurt you.

Brings you small gifts and treats to cheer you up.

Promises to communicate better in the future.

"I'm sorry baby...I was being dumb I promise I won't do that ever again."

Hyunjin

Thinks you'll act dramtically so he agrees.

Avoids interacting with you, keeping a straight face.

Is a bit confused when you just stalk off.

Starts to feel uneasy when you've been gone a while.

Realizes the prank has gone too far when he sees you crying alone.

He goes to sit next to you and apologize.

But now you're giving him the silent treatment.

Insists on talking it out with you.

Goes out of his way to do thoughtful things for you until you finally talk to him.

Frequently checks in on you to make sure you’re feeling better.

Promises to be more considerate in the future.

"Ya jagiiiiiiiiiiyyaaaaaaaa...talk to meeeeeeee...please? It was a joke. Jagiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

Han

A little skeptical at first since he thinks you'll be anxious and overthink since thats how he would react.

But after the guys show him a bunch of different and amusing reactions he concedes.

Finds it amusing at first

Feels a twinge of guilt when you start looking upset.

He gets extremely anxious seeing tap your knee and fidget.

Oh boy he see's your tears welling up.

Breaks down first, apologizing and explaining it was a joke before you even have a chance to start fully crying.

Tries to make you laugh with jokes and silly antics to cheer you up.

Clings to you like a spider monkey. He needs to be resting against you in some way shape or form.

Brings you little gifts and snacks as a way of saying sorry and to make himself feel a little better.

Oh the amount of kisses he is giving you just to make sure you know he is sorry and he loves you.

"Baby stop squirming. There is no such thing as too many kisses. Let me kiss youuuu!!!"

Felix

Hesitantly agrees to the prank, worried it might go too far.

Plays along, giving you the silent treatment but feeling guilty the entire time.

Starts to worry as you look more hurt and confused.

Realizes the prank has gone too far when you start crying.

He doesn't listen to the guys when they say to let it go on a bit longer.

Apologizes profusely.

Just lets you rest in his arms until you fall asleep and stays in the same position until you wake up from your sad boi hour nap.

Bakes your favorite treats as an apology.

For the rest of the day he makes sure he's always talking to you about something and explains it was a joke ever five minutes.

Acknowledges he thought it was a bad idea to begin with.

"I didn't want to. I hate seeing you sad, I'm sorry angel. If you forgive me than at least finish your brownie."

Seungmin

Agrees to the prank since he thinks you'll be able to handle it. And its not like he is the most talkative person; maybe you won't even notice.

Oh but you do notice. And this is making your already bad day even worse.

Keeps a straight face, giving you the cold shoulder.

Wonders slightly why you have haven't jokingly scolded or insulted him yet

Realized its because you're in the kitchen crying.

Breaks character, and gives you a hug.

Its not until you push him away does he apologize.

You're still a little upset, so he makes it up to you by taking you out on a date.

Tries to make it up to you with small acts of kindness throughout your date as well.

Only asks once or twice if you're still mad at him.

Realizes you're not when you lovingly insult him about something during your dinner.

Secretly promises to be more considerate in the future, because he doesn't want to verbalize that to you.

I probably shouldn't do this again...even if Y/N does look cute when they cry...

Jeongin

All of the members try to convince him not to do this prank.

Doesn't listen at all.

Avoids talking to you, keeping a straight face, even when you helplessly pull at his shirt sleeves.

Starts feeling guilty as you look more hurt, but it adamant about proving to his hyungs that he wasn't in the wrong for pulling this prank.

Realizes he was oh so wrong when he see's you clinging to Chan crying.

Chan is the one who makes I.N. apologize.

He apologizes immediately, and gets an earful from Minho who has a soft spot for you.

But now he feels so bad and doesn't feel like talking out of guilt and shame from being scolded.

So now the rest of the guys are cheering up both their babies.

Just pouts sadly while cuddling you.

Once you guys are back to normal you make him promise to listen to his hyungs.

"I promise I'll listen to them next time...but...wasn't it kinda nice for them to baby both of us?"

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel

[wolviensabes]

Logan and pregnancy.

RQ: 'Logan taking care of his pregnant girlfriend perchance 🤔' -@wheezyth3dem0n

Warnings: F!reader, pregnancy themes, written in HC style.

A/N: I just wrote pregnancy hcs on my main blog so let's keep the theme going. Ignore grammar mistakes, not edited.

Logan knows you're pregnant instantly when the scent of your hormones change.

He looks to you and he isn't sure how to feel just yet. He hadn't planned on getting you pregnant, it wasn't something that he ever thought about. But it was his reality now, and he wasn't too sure on how to feel.

He was just a little wary jumping into something so permeant, considering your lifestyles. The dangers that are involved, all he thought about was how the baby would be in constant danger. Especially knowing it would most likely be mutant.

You were a little hurt, knowing he was a bit standoffish since the discovery, but after some thinking he had come around and explained what he was thinking about, and how he was just worried about its upbringing. It was reassuring that he comforted you in this sense, even if it initially hurt when he backed off.

"M'sorry, this is all...new to me. I never thought I'd be a dad...of all people." Logan grumbled to you, rubbing your back to try to reassure you that he was happy, it was just...a lot for him to take in.

When you begin to show, Logan's presence starts to become more and more. His missions are spread out a bit more, and he spends more time around you. At first, your pregnancy is mostly independent, besides him being around in the evening. You figure it's because he's still processing that you are carrying his kin, but as he starts to come around more often, you're surprised but decide not to mention it.

Logan starts to observe you closer, his hands often find your belly and rub it. He can hear the heartbeat, and he leans closer so he can rest by your belly. Most nights are like this when he's not holding you. He pays close attention to your habits, as well as schedule, memorizing everything you do day to day. When you get a little bigger, he notices daily tasks are a bit more difficult for you.

"Let me help," Logan insisted gruffly, watching you try to pick up clothes for laundry. He worded it more like a demand than offer, he didn't like how you were bending over so often.

"I got it, Logan, really," your stubbornness insisted you could handle it, but he had his doubts. He could see your clear struggle, he could sense you were tired but you were so stubborn.

"Enough." he demanded and gently pulled you away from the laundry, his arms strong around you and easily maneuvering you around. He sat you down and pointed at you. "Stay." he ordered.

Logan brings you food, he doesn't cook a lot but he still tries. He gets help from Jean or Storm. But he's always the one to bring it to you. He displays a lot of instinctual habits by now, especially since you're showing more now. Something inside him just...triggers when he sees your swollen belly. When you walk around the mansion for some exercise, he is right there with you, his eyes scanning the halls and every single person around you.

He growls at people who come close, he is so insanely protective over you now. It shocks you the first time he about lunges at Scott when he asked you how far along you were. "Logan!" you watched your feral boyfriend literally snarling at Scott.

"Get your eye off her, slim." he hissed, his voice was venomous and mean. Scott was just as surprised, even for Logan he was acting much more aggressive. You pulled Logan along, muttering an apology to Scott along the way.

"Logan what the hell! He was just asking how far I was," you muttered, your bristled boyfriend still had an irritated expression. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you. "Easy...it's fine. He's gone, just relax..." you rubbed your hands over his chest, soothing him from his protective mode.

He piles you into the shared room you have, he gets you all settled on the bed and cozy, there are so many blankets and pillows there and they act as excellent support for your large belly. He makes sure you're as comfy as possible, he fusses a lot by grumbling and making sure you have enough blankets. "Keep the baby warm." he grunts at you, covering you with a blanket as if your baby will get cold.

Logan likes to lay close to your belly, he can hear the baby and smell the change you emit because of all the hormones. He hears the baby moving around too, he enjoys listening to his little one in there.

You end up bound to the bed for a while, your ankles were so swollen and you were weak as the pregnancy progressed. You relied on him and he was more than happy to comply. He rubs your swollen ankles and feet, leaning forward and letting his facial hair tickle your belly.

When you feel your hormones flare, you get emotional and worried about labor and birth, all the normal worries for a mother to be. Logan sits with you and lets you vent your worries, but he is also the voice of reason during your emotional episodes. He always reassured you, telling you it would be alright, he was here with you, and he'd never let anything happen to you.

When your little one does arrive, it will be the most protected baby on the planet, not only the baby, but you too. Like hell anyone will get the chance to harm you with Logan by your side.

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[odoraful]

𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲 𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑴𝑼𝑪𝑯

wanderer finds a way to ease your insecurities after you overhear some rumors

⟡ content: wanderer x gn!reader ; established relationship ; reader is a student at the akademiya ; reader feeling a bit insecure about their relationship with wanderer ; but he knows a good counter :) ; the vibe i was going for was silly and sweet hehe ; 2k w/c

⟡ a/n: i did proofread and edit this, but i was a little sleepy in the process, so apologies for any glaring errors! i hope you enjoy, mwah !

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Just because the Akademiya was one of the leading institution for academics in Teyvat doesn’t mean that its students are all about studies. Gossip and rumors were some of the biggest sources of entertainment to come out of its lecture halls and labs.

Though many of these tales were unfalsifiable, students did not need to adhere to rigorous experimental principles when it came to coming up with stories. It all started with the story that the building Vahumana scholars studied in were haunted. Apparently, a Vahumana researcher had brought home an ancient relic they weren't supposed to from the ruins of one of their expeditions. This relic held a spirit who had been a revered warrior in ages long past. Angered at being removed from their station, the spirit now stalked the halls, trying to enact revenge on the person that committed this heinous act. If objects were knocked over by an unseen force, and the air grew chilly, it was said to be a sign that the spirit was near. From then on, many other stories began to rise, each to varying degrees of popularity.

Wanderer thought all of this to be absolute rubbish.

But, he did find the deliberate arousal of widespread fear to be quite amusing. Spread by the students themselves, no less. Mortals were certainly interesting creatures. He also loathed these rumors and tales popping up because he found himself to be wrapped up in one himself:

Hat guy is dating someone famous!

Someone had seen Wanderer on a date and, to everyone’s complete shock, being intimate. But, it was only from a distance, so they couldn’t figure out their identity. Thus, the speculations began. Wanderer wished everyone would just mind their own business.

As an Akademiya student yourself, you have also heard many of these stories during your time here. And as Wanderer’s partner, the ones about his romantic relationship was something you’d wish you heard less of. Unfortunately, you were now within hearing distance of an excited group of students talking about exactly that. They were seated at one of the public tables used for studying, though they were doing very little of it.

“Guess what?!” one of them exclaimed. “I saw Hat Guy the other day with his mystery partner.”

The rest of the group erupted into gasps. Is this some kind of Hat Guy fan club? you couldn’t help but wonder.

You stood innocently by the message board a ways from them, pretending to check and read if any new information had been added whilst your ears remained perked.

“No way! Did you find out who they were?”

“I had to rush of to class before I could sneak by them!” the witness of your date huffed. “I wouldn't have to do all this if he wasn't so secretive about this.”

Two days ago, you had indeed met up with Wanderer between classes, sitting by one of the more secluded gazebos in Razan Garden. You both weren’t actively trying to keep your relationship a secret, rather, you just enjoyed your privacy more.

One of them folded their arms rather decisively. “It has to be a celebrity. With how haughty he is, there’s no way that Hat Guy would settle for anyone who wasn’t some renowned star.”

Hey, that’s a bit rude! you protested internally. They don’t have to be a renowned star…

“That’s why he’s being so hush-hush about it, so it doesn’t become a huge scandal.”

“They must be jaw-droppingly gorgeous then. Only the best for the leading scholar of Vahumana,” agreed another, with loving sigh that made your eye twitch.

You pouted to yourself. Sure, you thought you were somewhat pretty, but not anything jaw-dropping… Hang on, why were you giving into these strangers’ silly speculations?

“Could they be a performer from Fontaine? I heard they have a grand Opera there.”

“They’re probably a vision wielder as well!”

“Yeah, definitely not some ordinary student like us.”

“Or maybe they’re a famous bard from Mondstadt—”

The group turned into a flurry of chatter as they continued with their guesswork. Your time here was up. You didn’t feel like listening any longer.

Some ordinary student… you repeated in your head. It wasn’t untrue, but the way it was said by them made it seem completely absurd for Wanderer to even consider dating someone like you.

Just as you turned to walk away, you jumped at a sudden noise.

An open door to an empty classroom had slammed shut. The sharp thud echoed throughout the space.

The chatter from the students immediately ceased.

They began to laugh uneasily. Surely that was just caused by a simple strong draft. The laughing faded when the books and loose parchment on their table were suddenly pushed to the side, the lighter of these items tumbling to the floor. They all stood up, horror frozen on their faces. The air grew noticeably cooler. Wind swept in, causing the papers pinned to the message board in front of you to flutter.

“I-it’s the ghost!” one of the students shrieked, pointing to one of the doorways that led into this central space. “The ghost of the Vahumana building!”

A figure loomed at the threshold, a sinister air surrounding them.

The group of students snatched their bags and rushed as fast as they could away, scrambling for the exit in the opposite direction. Their urgency greatly juxtaposed against your nonreaction.

There was just something about the figure that was all too familiar.

Stepping into the lit space, the figure ruffled a hand in his violet hair. Annoyance was twisted on his face.

“Using your anemo on Akademiya grounds?” you asked with a quirk in your brow.

Wanderer let out a huff, walking towards you. “For good reason. Not only were those students talking nonsense, they had the audacity to be loud about it too.”

Since there was no one around at the moment, you felt comfortable enough to bring up a hand to tidy his hair up. Though he gave a begrudged sigh, Wanderer leaned into your touch as you combed your fingers through it.

“I didn’t know you were the ghost of the Vahumana building,” you teased, moving an index finger down to poke at his cheek. “You seem pretty corporeal to me.”

“That ridiculous story again?” Wanderer responded, swatting at you to stop. “Humans seek out information that already confirms their previous beliefs. They saw whatever they wanted to see.”

Even though he shrugged as he spoke, Wanderer was unmistakably satisfied with the result of his doings. As he was heading to meet up with you to head home together, he heard that group of students yapping away about his relationship and saw your discomfort at their rudeness. He needed them gone and gone fast. So, he conjured up his most basic form of anemo. Even that was enough to send them scurrying away like mice.

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You both were bathed in the warm sun as you walked through the streets of Sumeru City. It was a lively afternoon, with people bustling about to run errands or savor the perfect weather. Usually, you’d also relish in a day like this, but your attention was elsewhere. The conversation those students had repeated frustratingly in your mind, as much as you didn’t want it to affect you. Your focus returned just in time for you to move away as a woman carrying several boxes of Harra fruit almost sent you toppling over.

“Be careful there!” she called before moving on her way.

You shouted an apology, shaking your head in an attempt to return to your senses. Wanderer frowned, tugging at your arm to pull you closer to him.

"Are you going to spit it out?”

Though you hadn’t done anything wrong, you still felt like you’d been caught.

”Spit what out?” you answered.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he said, glowering at you. “You’ve been acting strange since we left the Akademiya.”

Turning the corner into the more residential area of the city, the streets grew less busy, save for the occasional resident tending to their garden outside or taking a walk with their family.

There was no keeping anything from Wanderer with his senses and hard-headedness. You probably had a better chance with hiding a Sumpter Beast under a blanket.

“I was just thinking about what those students were talking about back at the Akademiya. You know, about who you were dating.”

“They were saying: Oh, they must be some kind of celebrity, or famous adventurer with a really cool vision who’s super incredibly gorgeous and isn’t just some nothing student,” you mimicked with disdain.

Wanderer cocked his head to the side. “And that was verbatim?”

“Yes, yes it was!” you nodded emphatically, ignoring his pointed sarcasm. “It just had me feeling I don’t know…”

Wanderer didn’t say anything more as your sentence trailed off. He simply looked at you, expectantly. The sound of your feet hitting the paved road rung clear in the air, every step pushing you to admit what you were truly feeling.

“I just felt a bit insecure!” you blurted out.

Sighing, the words began to tumble from you.

“Like if this is the kind of image people have about who’s dating you, once they see me they’ll start to think: Why on Teyvat is he dating that person? Which will make me think: Why on Teyvat are you dating me?”

“And I know, it’s horrible to think like this, and I don’t want doubt your reasons for liking me, but I just can't help it. So, now I’m starting to worry whether you'd prefer someone else—”

Your rambling stopped short.

Not because you had lost your train of thought, but because there was something physically preventing you from continuing.

Your lips was being covered by Wanderer’s own.

Your mind finally registered that he was kissing you in the middle of the street, only a few blocks away from your home.

Protests of stopping him fizzled away as you relaxed in his hold. His hand moved up to rest at the base of your neck and you gave in to the soft coolness of his lips. Wanderer’s kisses always had a hunger behind them, but there was something else now too.

Frustration.

Like he was trying to send you some kind of message each heated movement. When he finally pulled away, your body was left with tingles and you were still enveloped in his gentle scent of linen and parchment.

Wanderer silently admired the flush he left on your lips—the colour of ripened Zaytun peaches. He lightly tapped the side of your forehead with a finger, almost in scolding.

“You’re really that affected by the stupid things other people say?” he chided.

You blinked at him, still slightly dazed by his previous stunt.

He continued, with a sincerity to his voice that gave you pause, “Isn’t the proof you need right here? I chose you. So no, I wouldn’t want some famous superstar, or whatever, because they wouldn’t be you.”

Your mouth parted at such an open confession. Wanderer couldn’t handle the joy swimming in your eyes and turned away, hiding his own buzzing feeling that rose within him with a long sigh.

“I can’t believe you’re feeling like this when we’re walking to our shared home together,” he muttered, starting to walk again.

You kept up by his side, hands behind your back. You almost felt like skipping now down this street.

“Do you think you could say all that one more time?” you asked, the question filled with mirth.

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“Nope,” Wanderer, again, immediately replied.

“But what if I need more reassurance?”

You angled yourself to try and meet his gaze, hoping that the pleading in your expression would better convince him. However, he seemed to be notably avoiding your eyes. Unconsciously, Wanderer’s eyes flicked over to you. In that millisecond, his own resolve crumbled. He groaned aloud.

“Later… then…” he conceded with a mutter.

For all of Wanderer's supposed unwillingness, he would always give you the reassurance you needed in his own mischievous way. Still, he didn’t like how those rumors had so quickly burrowed into you. Perhaps it was time to stamp them all out by showcasing to everyone who he was dating.

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[nichuuu]

From Eden

Jeon Heejin x M reader

(1st instalment of De Selby)

PSA: This shit has not seen the editing board because I'm lazy. Fell off real hard. Sorry gang.

Word count: 10k

You liked to think that your first meeting with her after all those years was a fluke. 

As it went for most people who went their separate ways at a point in their lives: there was history between you and Jeon Heejin. It was a little more choppy than you’d like to admit, but it formed the crux of your relationship and you couldn’t just ignore it. She seemed to find no qualms in forgetting what happened between the two of you. And as you caught up with her at a booth seat in some club you guys bumped into each other at, you wondered if you’d overreacted when the two of you had your falling out.

She was possibly kinda bad company for the night – not exactly a face you wanted to see three beers in and ditched by the rest of your friends cause they all got too drunk and found themselves booted from this hellhole. But at the end of the day, they all say that it’s better to be in poor company than to be alone. 

***

To whatever gods that were out there, you thanked all of them collectively for the fact that the toilet that she’d dragged you into was empty. You hoped that the cubicle door was enough to keep whatever was happening in the bathroom privy to its occupants. The music that pulsed on outside the bathroom should be enough to cover you right? 

Heejin—as usual—had no qualms about skipping past the usual formalities of intimacy. Those deft hands were on your belt faster than you could utter her name, and your cock was in her hand before you even knew it. She was gentle with you, stroking you considerately as she laid a hand on your chest. Those fingers made you tingle from the tip down, pushing you to new levels of pleasure you’d no idea you could experience. They gripped you lightly yet firmly, applying pressure at all the right spots to make your toes curl in your shoes and your muscles tense throughout your body. You could only wonder: did she know what she was doing to you? Or was she just getting really lucky. However sordid this situation was, it felt right to you… and maybe to her as well.

“Jesus Heejin”--your hissing through your teeth. It sounds a little more aggressive than you’d like, but you know she’d have no qualms about it anyway–“you sure know your way around a dick.”

The smirk on her face was snitching on the fact that she definitely knew what she was doing. She leaned in, flushing herself against your chest while she continued to deliver languid strokes to the rock hard meat in her hand. “Thanks… He loves a nice handjob from time to time, though I always imagine myself giving it to you instead of him to get into it..”

You summoned the strength to look into her eyes – really gaze deep into those lustful, beautiful orbs she’d been blessed with. Past the want and need, there was an undeniable look of sincerity she held, a wordless soulful confession to you that she had always fantasised you in place of her ‘lover’. It drove you to push a little further, “and what are you thinking about now that I’m actually the one you’re giving it to?”

Heejin thought about it for a moment, almost as if she had a million and one answers that could express her carnal desires. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past her to actually harbour a million and one answers. She was always a wild thinker in many aspects. She was also diligent, and that translated into the way her hand hadn’t stopped moving throughout the eternity (it was shorter than that, but it sure felt like it) she took to produce a congenial answer. 

“Now that you’re actually here,” she finally answered, making sure to hit you with a smile that blurred the distinct line between sweet and sultry, “I’m thinking about how good you’re gonna fill me with this pretty, thick cock.”

“Pretty?” you couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d heard and read of many ways that people described dicks, but never in your life would you ever expect the word ‘pretty’ to be amongst that mix. Heejin giggled – one of mischief and ‘know-it-all’ energy. It’s pretty – her grip around you tightened, squeezing you with pleasurable force as her movements quickened almost in sync with your breathing – because I like the way it feels in my hand… and I know that this cock is gonna be better than anything that he’ll ever give me. 

She stopped, putting a jarring halt to the pleasure that surged through your system. Her hand on your chest snaked up to your cheek – a sweet action that almost took the pure filth out of the words that followed. “I want you to fuck me–no, own me.”

It felt almost like a command in the way that you immediately wanted to fulfill her request. Her thumb traces circles on your face; her speech only gets filthier, “fuck me like I’m yours. Make me cum so hard that I forget all about him.”

You found yourself back in control of the part of your brain that controls the facilities of your speech and movement. You gingery held the wrist that was delivering those soft strokes of heaven just moments ago and pulled her hand off your throbbing shaft. As much as you’d love to have her jerk you off, there were more pressing matters at hand – namely the situation of her clothing and the fact that it was still on her. You wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close.

“Heejin darling,” you whispered, relishing the way she shivered as your warm breath made contact with her ear. “I can’t do much if you still have all of these damned clothes on.”

She quickly recognised the game that you were playing and was eager to match you step-for-step. She held your gaze as she hooked a finger into the top of the tube top that adorned that wonderful figure and—rather enthusiastically—pulled it down. The nipple covers were quickly discarded and her small, perky breasts caught your gaze. Judging from her smile, she loved that you were staring. 

“You’re nice”, she told you, moving some hair out her face like you were looking there of all places. “He’s always commanding me: take off your clothes, do this, do that… I could get very used to you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Her constant comparison of you and the man she was supposed to be loving was making you feel a little better about yourself (even though you knew that was far from the intended effect). You’d like to return the favour; you began running kisses down her body – starting from her lips before making your way down to her collarbone. Her shuddering sighs told you that you were doing something right, and you endeavored to keep up your performance for the rest of… Well… Whatever this session was.

“God… you’re fucking perfect, you know?” you informed her, wondering if she ever knew how much you adored that body of hers. Yes, you were more wholesome at a younger age – looking at her soft features and dorky personality to decide that you liked her. However, innocence never stopped you from stealing a glance or two at her ass when she wore tight jeans or a quick look at her slim figure whenever she wore anything that hugged her body like a glove. You’d never know if she ever caught you looking, but now you’re glad she knows that you are giving her your fullest attention (it was hard not to really).

You weren’t sure if her cheeks were flushing because of your comment or if she was just getting turned on. Either way, she still had remarks to deliver, “perfect is a little strong, but I’ll take the comment because I’m just so humble.”

Mischief was and would always be her idiosyncrasy.

A creak made both of you freeze. Female voices filled the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of heels clacking against the floor as your little getaway location was patronised by unwelcome guests. 

“Ugh… This damned contact lens is not coming out,” an identified voice carped. It sounded like the woman who said it was just in front of the stall that you were in. Judging from the slight look of annoyance that crossed Heejin’s face, you deduced that those were fellow bridesmaids who were in there together with you. With the same expression lingering on her soft features, she reached down and unclasped her jeans. She unzipped them slightly before pulling them down – past the delightful curve of her waist and till they were halfway down her supple thighs.

“Do you need help?” another voice rings out. Heels striked against the floor as another female occupant moved to join the scene; Heejin moved to grab you by the cock and pull you closer (as if the two of you weren’t already skin to skin in that stall).

“Fuck me now,” she hissed, an almost angry look filling her eyes. It was like she was being fuelled by the annoyance that stemmed from the presence of her fellow bridesmaids – using it as an excuse to quickly get filled with cock and have it pumping in and out of her within the next few seconds or so. She was lucky that you were taught to never keep a girl waiting.

Your movements are quick and firm; grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. Her gasp was telling of her surprise towards your sudden movements, but the grin that followed when she turned halfway around to you to watch as you pulled down her underwear told you that she liked how things were moving. Never in your life would you have imagined this: you and Jeon Heejin – each of you half naked in your own respects in a bathroom stall while people chatted freely beyond the wall of the stall. If the teenage version of yourself ever found out about this, you didn’t know how he’d respond.

Your right hand snaked down towards her crotch, and you are pleasantly surprised to find the slick wetness that could very well be running down the inside of her thigh. You could always check, but you liked to imagine. You took your shaft in your right hand. She bent slightly at the waist, her hands pressed against the white wall of the stall. The rest of her tight frame joined her hands soon after you parted the wet lips of her cunt and hilted yourself inside of her. 

Her insides felt like a warm embrace – better than you could’ve ever imagined it to be. It felt like a perfect fit; the throbbing meat within her walls filled her perfectly and felt every small movement the flesh could ever register. To call it heavenly would be downplaying the sheer pleasure she was bringing just by letting you be inside of her. Jeon Heejin felt like something unreal, unfathomable. You doubted that your hastily crafted description of her sweet wet cunt could allow one to process this taste of heaven.

Heejin let out a sharp gasp – loud enough for only the two of you to hear and loud enough for you to know that she too was unprepared for this new experience. From the way the muscles on her back tensed as her walls tightened around you, it felt as if her body was welcoming you. It was almost like she was subconsciously pulling you closer, deeper. You could get very used to this.

You revel in it a little, take in the feelings, the new sensation; the sound of the intentional soft breaths that the two of you were taking. This was certainly a novelty for you, and if you were being very honest with yourself: the events that led up to this moment felt a little too much like a fever dream. You half expected yourself to wake up in the next few seconds, or maybe—

“What are you waiting for?”–of course. It had to be her to really cement the fact that this whole thing was actually real. Sure, it’s inconceivable; but no imaginative power of yours could ever replicate the sarcasm (splashed with hunger) behind her voice, nor could you visualise the smouldering look in her eyes as she bit her lip–“your dick is in me. Do something with it.”

It felt like a challenge. She knew damn well that you always took up her challenges.

Withdrawing yourself from the warmth of her slick, you took a moment to cast your gaze downward. You appreciate the sight of your shaft glistening in her juices for a moment—and only a moment. There were pressing matters at hand—before thrusting back into her and reacquainting yourself with the warmth of her walls. You’d have loved to get into this slowly; unfortunately, Heejin chose the worst possible place to get it on. You’d have to live with her choices (and this isn’t exactly new for you).

And as a third voice joins the fray outside your stall—I think I have some eye drops here. Maybe that could help?—you began pumping yourself in and out of her, slow and controlled with full strokes that filled her to the brim. The voices continued to fill the bathroom as the three anonymous patrons struggled with one of their lenses; you struggled to keep yourself together inside of Heejin’s hot wet cunt. 

“F-Fuck yes,” she hissed. Don’t worry, it was soft. Or you could just be too absorbed by the delightful sound of wet squelching as your shaft appears and disappears between her legs to notice that she may be a tad loud. Even if it was, the trouble outside was enough to keep the other three  “I can’t believe I’m finally getting this dick. God… You’re so… Oh my god.”

It humoured you to see her in this state, though laughing at her would be the pot calling the kettle black; you yourself were trying to hold on to something tangible—that wasn’t her waist cause hot damn was your grip on it doing a number on you. Counterintuitive, but hot nonetheless—to keep you grounded in your senses. Slip up and you’d be dealing with the risk of being found in a girl’s bathroom. 

“Jesus Heejin”–you were trying your best to throw in some dirty talk. It would help to spice things up if it weren’t for the fact that your own words were failing you. Your mind was almost completely consumed by the warm squeeze of her pussy, the small twitches of her walls as you drilled yourself into her tight frame like you were slowly nailing a painting onto the wall of the cramped stall. Actually, you were nailing a painting to the wall of the stall: the way her body moved and responded to your thrusts could easily be considered fine art in your books; her body could be considered a canvas given its pale complexion and its smooth surface. Heejin was an art piece herself – a complicated mix of emotions that could take the place of colour and a mind so complex that no composition could ever capture its essence. Good god… You were hooked on this girl–”you have no idea how fucking good you feel around my cock.”

To be clear: from the moment you started fucking her, she hadn’t turned back to face the wall. This whole time she’d been facing you – eyes smoking under the fire of passion and her mouth slightly parted as if her soft moans and sighs were keeping them permanently open. Simply put – she was hot. If you were to discard the complications behind the sex, one could easily classify this as plain, passionate and simple fucking (in a highly risky scenario that could jeopardize both of your reputations, mainly Heejin’s) between two people who have longed for each other. But the plainness of that sounded unappealing to you; the enthralling fact about this was the complexity of the situation – the thrill behind the immorality of it and the sheer risk behind satisfying your own desires. As she gasped when your hands found purchase in her soft breasts, you wondered if she had the same thoughts running through your head as you (though from the looks of it, she was purely enjoying the sex and probably leaving her thoughts behind. Words fail in times like these – you’d be one to know).

Her voice is unsteady as she hissed through her teeth—harder. Fucking give it to me like I’m yours—to perversely request for more than what you were giving her. To see her this uncouth enthralled you to no end. With one hand on her left tit, you moved to secure her hair in a bunch in your other hand. Her hair was a little far from silky—no doubt from all the dye that it’d seen—but it provided friction for you to grip onto her strands with ease as you decreased the intervals between your thrusts. The sound of wet squelching began to permeate the stall, and it was starting to be accompanied by the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin as you struggled to control your desires to rail the girl before you. Thankfully, the cries of victory from the women outside masked the unsavoury sounds.

“Thank god!” one of them, presumably the one who had their contact lens stuck. You’d affectionately refer to them as ‘Eyes’. “I thought it’d be in there forever. Thanks guys.”

“No worries”, another chimed. It was the second voice you heard when all of them entered. She’d be ‘Two’. “Normally you could take this to Heejin. She’d get you fixed up in a flash.”

“Really?” the third asked. You’ll call her ‘Three’. “Do idols get their contacts stuck a lot?”

“Probably,” Eyes mused, “all that dancing on stage probably isn’t suited for glasses, and who knows what type of contacts their stylists have them on.”

Heejin catched your gaze. Struggling to control her breathing, she managed to confirm Eye’s statement—she’s… kinda right. Oh fuck…—before you pulled back firmly on her hair to shut her mouth. Don’t be mistaken: you loved her personality and all, but now really wasn’t the time for it to shine. For good measure, you sealed her lips with a kiss – sloppy and clumsy and hurried. You squeezed her breast a little harder. 

“Where is she anyway?” Three asked. “I haven’t seen her since she left to go talk to that friend of hers…”

A tongue click of disapproval could be heard. You could imagine that it was followed by a tongue wave of dismissal from the way Two commented, “leave her be. She rarely gets to get out of her schedule. Probably trying to catch up with some old friends or something…”

There was a hum of agreement; Heejin moaned straight into your mouth as you captured her nipple between your fingers and squeezed. If the women outside knew how Heejin was ‘catching up’ with you, you didn’t know how they’d react to the sight of her being fucked raw in a bathroom stall meters away from them. You didn’t know how she was getting away with this, but you weren’t exactly complaining. If it wasn’t for understanding bridesmaids, you wouldn't be able to make a wet mess out of her. Maybe you’d thank them later, but you’d decide on that after you were done with Heejin.

“Was that the guy she was talking about the other day?” Two inquired. You had no idea what she looked like, and it scared you a little that she’d seen your face.

There was a moment of pause before Eyes quipped, “what guy?”

Silence followed Eyes’ question. For a second, you were worried that they’d all picked up on the lewd sounds of you fucking the very girl that they were speaking of. You held your breath, but you didn’t stop pumping your shaft between Heejin’s legs. She was almost like a lifeline – a slick and wet and oh-so-hot one that was keeping grounded in your senses while hooking to the sensation of the slick thrusts inside her pussy. Miracle drug… Or maybe just a drug – either way: Heejin was everything to you right now. Listening in on their conversation was just so that you wouldn’t be found during your few minutes in heaven.

“Nevermind. I think I wasn’t supposed to talk about that,” Two muttered. “Let’s get out of here before someone spikes our drink or something.”

They began discussing more mundane things, and you couldn’t care less about them because all that really mattered was the fact that their voices were fading away. You waited till you heard the sound of the creaky door closing to relinquish Heejin’s lips from your possession. She let out a gasp of air, followed by a desperate cry – loud and pleading now that she had the freedom to speak.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” she hissed. It was almost a snarl really. “Cum with me. Please.”

She was lucky that you: a) had a really big soft spot for her and; b) knew better than to turn a nice girl down.

With a grunt, the hand on her breast shoots to her throat, gripping it tightly as you frantically fuck Heejin to catch up with her imminent orgasm. She was into it, reciprocating by accompanying your hand on her throat and squeezing even tighter. She lets strained cries tumble from her mouth—Oh yes baby… I’m yours. Oh fuck… Oh my fucking god… You’re gonna make me cum so hard—her wells squeezing tighter and tighter around you. Husky was her voice as she pleaded with you to take your liberties—Fucking cum anywhere you like. I just want to be yours—with her, and she was practically shaking in your grasp as you drove yourself closer and closer to the point of no return inside her wet tight walls. Everything – your heart and soul and whatever – pointed you towards making a huge mess out of the women in your arms, and you endeavoured to achieve that goal one way or another.

The tingling at the base of your cock was steadily growing up your shaft. Your thoughts blurred together, nullifying and cancelling each other out till all you could think of was her. With every pump into her, you told yourself that she was yours to take. With every sigh that left her lips, you thought about how many times she pictured this moment in her head. With each gasp and sigh and moan and cry, you fought the urge to hiss through your teeth—Heejin, I love you so much—and admit your feelings for her and how much you’ve missed her touch; tell her how no one made you feel like she could; let her know that for all these years, you’d longed to reconnect with her and sort things out once and for all. Sweet thoughts; perverse desires. The latter wins – all that comes out of your mouth is, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

And it happened. A little quicker than you’d have liked but there was no way to control the course that the lust of man would take you down. Your cock pops out of Heejin’s heat, glistening with her slick wetness as you pump yourself to completion with your free hand. The hand on Heejin’s throat was pulled down to her crotch, and she used your fingers to rub the swollen nub of her clit as the first ropes of semen shot out and landed on her lower back. She came as the second rope landed on the swell of her left ass cheek, and her knees buckled as the third and fourth spurts hit the fabric of her tube top and the right side of her lower back respectively. You lost track of the rest of your load as Heejin leaned against you, quaking as her orgasm struck her in waves and your load continued to streak her back. It all was so fast. You wondered how either you managed to process your actions in the moment. 

She panted against you, sweaty and spent as she closed her eyes and caught her breath. Your dick stayed flushed against the small of her back, slick with a mix of fluids from you and her. Your hand at her crotch slowly rubs circles into her clit, easing her off her peak and giving you something else to focus on other than how beautiful she looked. You feared that if you stared too long, you’d say something that you didn’t want her to know. The last thing you wanted was to have that moment of intimacy—facilitated by the afterglow of really good sex—to be ruined by some stupid feelings.

“Hey,” she whispered – all soft and tender as she opened her eyes to stare up at you. “That was fucking incredible.”

You managed a chuckle, restraining the urge to kiss her where she stood. She smiled, reached up to cup your cheek as you stared deep into her eyes. For a moment, the world went silent for you and her.

Then she pulled you down to her, kissed you where she stood. The position was a little awkward, your noses bumping each other at odd spots on your faces as she let the sweet nectar that was her lips grace your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced, different from the kiss you’d given her in the midst of fucking her. It felt so right, so tender.

She released your lips with a soft smack, positively glowing as she gazed into your eyes for a little bit longer. 

“Keep this between us,” she whispered, “I love you. I always have.”

***

You stared blankly at her. It was all you could do really.

“What part of this can’t you understand?” she asked. The anger behind her voice was potent, palpable. “I have a boyfriend. Stay away.”

In your hand, the note that you’d plan to hand her felt a little lighter than it had when you first approached. Wishful thinking had you delusional; there was no chance that she would ever go to that dance with you. 

You thought that maybe the friendship could coax her into it – that maybe the years of what almost felt like kinship would drive her to just hear you out for a little bit; yet you seemed to forget that love is blind and can cloud your judgement.

In a moment, it felt like everything you’d built with her had turned to ashes.

***

“Indulge me Heejin. Bring me through your thought process.”

On the bed of your apartment, Heejin tosses her phone aside. Languidly, she flips onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as her elbow dents the pillow. 

“I know,” she mutters, a little bit shamefully if you might add. “Dating another guy to make you jealous and confess is a classic fanfiction folly and all… But I was desperate.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You know that we could’ve just… talked, right?”

Her lips form a line. She sighs and lets her head flop back onto the pillow with a bit of a thump. To be very clear: you aren’t asking her all these questions to guilt trip her into an apology. You are genuinely curious to understand how she was thinking at the period in your lives. It’s a good point of reflection for the both of you considering you both screwed up in one way or another, and maybe even a good chance to offload some emotional baggage. You’ll admit – finding out that she’d dated the guy she was currently with just to get you to run to her and confess your love in highschool was a bit of a shocking discovery. It was foolish, yes… But you wondered why Heejin of all women would resort to such methods. She could be awfully blunt when she wanted to be, and somehow even more blunt when she was telling you that you looked like shit in skinny jeans. You never knew as one to shy away from a confrontation when necessary, and even though she could be a bit of a big dork, she was emotionally aware enough to understand that communication would easily have settled your feelings for each other.

Heejin rolls in the bed, moving close to you so that she can throw an arm around you as she asks, “you’re not mad right?”

“No. Just curious,” you tell her truthfully. She’s silent for a moment, then she looks you in the eyes and opens up: I always meant to talk to you about it. When I heard from Haesul that you liked me I… I was just ecstatic. You were everything I wanted in a man, and I really just wanted to make you mine. Believe me when I say that I wanted to just run to you after the school bell rang and tell you that I loved you too… and maybe ask you out on a date the next weekend.

Her thumb traces circles on your back. You can tell that she’s being sincere from the way she never shies from your gaze. She continues, “but as I’m running to your class down the hall… This guy comes up to me and just tells me that he’s been crushing on me for years and wants to date me. I want to tell him ‘no’ on the spot. I really did. But I see an opportunity to… I dunno… Spice things up a little.”

And you can guess the rest of the story, but you just want to hear her say it just to be sure. Sure enough, she tells you the exact line that you predicted out of her—one thing led to another and then… well, here we are—and you can’t help but chuckle. The whole thing is pretty damn foolish to be honest, and you recognise the fact that if you’d just acted a little less rashly, maybe you wouldn’t have had to go down the path that you did. It’s a folly of the past but it does bring some shame to your present.

“I’m sorry”—she surprises you with this one. You assumed that you guys are past the stage of reconciliation at this point. I mean… You did fuck in a bathroom before she texted you after the wedding she was attending, so it would be kinda right to just conclude that you guys pre-fired the make-up sex—“I was rash and stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising again?” you ask her, “I thought we were through with the sob ‘sorry’s and what-nots.”

“Just for good measure,” she whispers, a gleam in her eyes as she shifts around in your bed a little. “You can never be too careful when it comes to these types of things. Don’t want to make you an enemy again, do I?”

“That wouldn’t be too bad,” you reason, albeit playful rather than serious. She recognises that and scoffs as you continue, “they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“So what I’m hearing is: you’d stay for the hate sex,” she fires back. You smile.

“Not quite… But somewhat.”

Heejin sighs and slaps your leg. You secretly like pissing her off a little, but she didn’t need to know. 

“Now mister,” she says, hijacking the course of the conversation. “Indulge me and bring me through your thought process, and this isn’t about highschool by the way.”

She presses herself up against you, and you feel her hand slide down your torso and to your crotch.

“Tell me,” she whispers, a bit of smoky sultriness sneaking its way into her voice. “Why are you so fucking hard?”

It’s here that you realise that you’ve kinda walked into a trap. Not that what’s about to proceed is bad or anything, but it’s just that you’re a little disappointed that you hadn’t spotted this a little earlier. There were signs that you ignored when you saw her in your bed – namely the fact that she was wearing a see-through sleeveless dress that had a plunging neckline. If that wasn’t enough, she was blatantly playing with herself when you walked in, staring at her phone with this blanked out expression while her fingers worked between her thighs. If it weren’t for your questions about her relationship decisions, the two of you would probably have been naked and sweating in your bed right now. 

“Can I guy not be excited by a pretty girl?” you’re not trying to play innocent, but you are seeing how far it can get you in this situation just for fun.

“Not this guy.” Heejin’s fingers snake around your cock, gripping it lightly through your pants. “And definitely not when it comes to this girl.”

You chuckle softly and catch her hand at your crotch. You pull it away and lean in to whisper into her ear, “don’t worry Heejin. I’m not ignoring the fact that you’re wearing the easiest thing for me to fuck you in.”

Her eyes brighten. “So you did notice…”

And the kiss that follows is far from tame really. You’re at fault for this one since you initiated it, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you from keeping your hands to yourself as you reach down and locate her pussy. Okay wait, you’re making it sound like it took you some effort to find it when you really only took about a second; it’s really easy considering that the panties she’s wearing were so sheer and thin that you could hardly consider it underwear. It was probably more like a concept of clothing than an actual, tangible thing. And her dress? The hem was a lot shorter than it looked. She probably hiked it up or something.

You’re unsurprised by the slick wetness of her cunt practically dripping out of her at this juncture. She’s probably been holding it in for a while now – suppressing all that lust and hunger to talk about feelings for some 30 minutes before she finally gets the chance to let loose on you. Hats off to her really: she had more control than you’d credit her for.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, latheing your fingers in her juices by dipping them in between her undoubtedly flushed lips. “So wet for me already.”

“Wetter than I’ll ever be for him,” she sighs, almost breathlessly as she shuts her eyes to enjoy the sensation of your fingers getting familiar with her warm cunt. “You should—mmph… you should be grateful that I’m actually attracted to you.”

“I feel honoured.” you’re being genuine with her, but right now it comes off more as a sarcastic passing comment that leans towards the more tame side of dirty talk. Either way, anything you say would probably end with her putting your dick into one—or maybe all—of her holes and using it to her liking. Not that you’re complaining or anything, but it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There’s no stopping Heejin’s desire, and there really isn’t a point to trying to stop it. You’d be missing out on, like, a lot. “Though, no pressure, I’d be more honoured if you actually did something about that attraction.”

She smiles, borderline sadistic and a bit more enthusiastic than you’re used to. Her hands are deft as she quickly undoes the knot that keeps your sweatpants around your waist, pulls it off eagerly and makes quick work of your boxers. Your cock springs free, hard and throbbing as she slides out of bed to discard her dress. In record time, she’s between your legs and stroking your shaft with patient strokes of her hand. The cheeky comments that you had beforehand quickly sank back down your chest – replaced by an earthy groan that only Heejin was capable of drawing out of you. 

“You know… I was doing a bit of thinking,” she tells you.

“You do a lot of that.”

Heejin has no comments, only a cheeky little grin as she breathes warm air onto the tip of your cock. It makes you shudder, surging pleasure through your veins down to your bones. She’s oddly good at making you squirm, and you’re not too sure how to feel about that.

“Anyway,” she continues, unfazed by what she’d just done to you. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to suggest that maybe I could cross out one of my fantasies today.”

You’re no stranger to her wild thoughts that could probably fight that of Sabrina Carpenter. As you’d recently found out: fucking in a bathroom stall was one of many wild fantasies that she’d been wanting to cross out. Now that she had you, she’d been busy crossing more and more of them out. The whole infidelity thing was already a major part of her list considering the fact that she’s doing it with you instead of her ‘official’ partner, and things only get wilder from there. Sex with her can sometimes be like exposure therapy, not that you’ve done it before or anything. 

“And which one are we ruling out today?” you inquire, watching with great interest as she produces her phone from below the mattress and swipes through it eagerly. You never saw her grab the damn thing, but you figured that you were probably too preoccupied with the sight of her undressing to take notice. By the way: the entire time that the two of you had been talking? Yeah, she’s been stroking you through all of that. One can only imagine how you were feeling at the moment.

When you saw her phone, you thought that she was going to open her notes app and start looking through her kinks or something. Nothing prepares you for the sound of a dial tone, and you can only watch as she lays the phone next to your thigh, just out of your reach. 

“No prizes for guessing who I’m calling,” she grins, almost too innocently for your taste. “Try not to make too much noise okay?”

And before anything can be said, she slacks her jaw and draws you into the warm wet depths of her mouth. 

The dial tone only continues as Heejin goes still – adjusting to your size and length and taste and shape and whatever she needs to configure herself to. Frankly: if she’d just started sucking you off with that tight seal around your cock, you would’ve been in perdition in mere seconds after she starts. So you give a small thanks to whoever’s watching over you from up above, and you pray that the person on the other end of the line doesn't pick up. While you utter that silent prayer, Heejin’s tongue introduces itself to your tip, sliding almost gracefully over the head of your cock as her phone rings for the nth time. Another ring; her tongue flattens itself against the base of your dick and melts itself to the surface. You grit your teeth, fearful that the moment you make a sound, the other party would pick up and hear it. She slides up in a fluid motion, almost perfectly seamless if she hadn’t gone too far up too fast. Your cock ends up hitting her in the chin, and she smiles as if it were some cute thing that she was taking care of. 

“Heejin,” you grunt, keeping an eye on the phone screen in fear for both of your lives. “Let’s not—”

The caller chooses that moment to pick up, and this is where the game starts. Your lips shut so fast it feels almost automatic, and Heejin tears her eyes away from yours to focus on the other player of this perverse game. 

“Hi baby,” she greets her ‘lover’, all sweet and cute like she isn’t pumping your saliva-slick shaft in her hand as she calls him a pet name. “I was missing you, so I called.”

“Oh… I’m kinda busy now.” he sounds highly uninterested in her, tone dull and dry as Heejin takes a moment to give your cock a squeeze. “Can you call me back another time?”

For a moment, you’re ecstatic. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be subject to her games this time. 

“Quick chat. Promise,” Heejin fires back. She smiles wickedly, relishing the look on your face as you stare at her in a mix of shock and horror. “Just tell me about your day so far. It’s so hard to wait for you to get home to tell me about your day.”

There’s a moment of silence. Heejin takes advantage of the situation; she puts you back into her mouth and makes quick, sloppy work of your cock. The sound of slurping and gurgling is almost deafening, and there’s no way in hell that this man on the other side of the phone was not hearing all of this as Heejin blew you. You tilt your head back, clenching your teeth to prevent the guttural groan that’s building up deep within your chest from escaping your body. You’re hoping deep breaths of air can fill the space – block the desire to cry out in pleasure at the cusp of being translated into phonetics.

“Fine.” you’re almost grateful to hear that dull voice. “I’ve just been doing some filing and some paperwork… Nothing much really.” 

“Mhm,” Heejin mumbles, your cock still in her mouth. She frees it for a second to deliver a line—that sounds like super important work babe—that’s definitely sarcastic in her head and in concept, but masterfully manipulated to sound sincere and enthusiastic. “Anything else?”

“Uh… No.”

Heejin seems almost too gleeful between your legs. “Great. I’ll give you a quick run-down of my day then.”

She proceeds to give him utter bullshit, lying through her teeth about lazing around in her dorm and eating yoghurt. All the while she’s lazily delivering firm pumps to your cock, the sound of her spit squelching in her own hand a little too loud for your liking. Then she starts twisting, and you feel as if all hell is breaking loose inside of you. Your throat is pricked with the sharp gasps that are fighting to be let out of your mouth, skin tingling with the effervescence of pleasure racing through just about every vein in your body. You’re certain you have a knuckle-white grip on your sheets as uses her thumb to rub against the underside of your slit while her other fingers pull the skin around your head tight to keep the sensitive part of you exposed to her impending assault. 

“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, and you’re wondering what other lies she’s capable of generating right now. “I got a call from my old friend that I met at the club before the wedding… He says he wants to be my personal photographer.”

And now you’re shocked and stunned. What was a passing joke yesterday is now being used against you in a way that you can’t even fathom. Heejin revels in the silence—and all the emotions that could possibly be engendered by that single statement—as she smiles and licks you from base to tip. The layer of saliva around your cock thickens, and she uses that to get more aggressive with her motions. You didn’t know if she has limits to her cruelty, and you really hope that she’s reaching it soon. 

“You know how I feel about that guy…” he begins.

“I know, I know… I’m just telling you to keep you in the know.”—her dismissal of his worries is quick and almost genuine if it weren’t for the fact that she was going against his wishes while she assuages his worries—”wouldn’t want to fight with you again, would I?”

He grunts in agreement. “Stay away from him baby. He’s bad company.”

“Yeah,” she hums, locking eyes with you as she hovers her mouth over your tip. She gives it a swipe of her tongue, smiling as you grimace under the pressure that shoots up from your crotch. “He’s such a bad guy…”

Not that you’re into this or anything, but hearing that drawl—sinful and sultry; raunchy and earthy—made your breath hitch a little. Sure, you’re no stranger to Heejin’s sensual side; but this was a bit of her that you had yet to experience. It felt like she’d dug up a new side to her, something unearthed and unaired, and you’ll be the only one to see it. She could take your breath away in many ways and you’d just found another.

The man on the other end grunts once more. With a gruff “Alright. I’ll text you later”, he hangs up on Heejin, leaving you free to let out the breath that you’d been holding in up till that point. 

“Isn’t he a bundle of sunshine?” Heejin drops the facade almost instantly, using the hand that wasn’t occupied with your cock to retrieve her phone. “Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds… Huh. That’s longer than most of our calls.”

You can only pant and watch as she giggles and tosses her phone aside. She crawls back up the bed and takes your lips into hers, and you’d like to think that it’s a sweet apology for the hell she’d just put you through. Deep down you know it wasn’t, but you’re in the mood for some wishful thinking after what you went through.

“Not sure if I’m being greedy here,” Heejin whispers, “but I’d like you to indulge me just a little more…”

“I’d like to hear this one through first,” you quickly request, because no way in hell were you about to live through those 5 minutes and 27 seconds for a second time. “Can’t let you bite off more than you can chew.”

Heejin laughs, fully aware where this was coming from. 

“Don’t worry. I think you’ll like this one,” she assures you, placing a hand on your chest for good measure. “Hand on my heart, honest-to-god: you’ll love this one as much as the next guy.”

You couldn’t help it. You had to check her – match her step for step.

“Considering that I just saw you lie through your teeth, I think it’s fair to say that I don’t quite trust you,” you tell her as plainly as you can. And it’s not that you actually don’t, but more so the fact that you’re just baiting her into saying something really raunchy that’ll rile the two of you up to no end. Depravity is the root of really good sex after all.

“I promise you,” her lips tilt at an angle as she smiles, “when we're done with this one, I’ll let you cum in my mouth.”

***

You figured that she’d come to you with the news at some point – tell you that he’d found her out and that things are gonna happen and blah blah. What you didn’t expect was for her to show up in the middle of the night to be a bearer of bad news.

“Went back to get a sweater that I’d forgotten,” Heejin’s explaining, a can of beer in her hand and fry in the other. “Open the door and next thing I know, the fucker’s blowing up on me in my face.”

She takes a swig and sighs. “Never liked him anyway… We fought more than we talked. Before you ask, make-up sex was horrible.”

You can only frown and nod in sympathy. You’re complicit in this whole ordeal and so don’t have much of a say in this thing. Guilty as charged, red-handed and whatever. You’re just glad that he didn't come over and beat you up like she said he would. Heejin downs the rest of the beer in the can in a gulp and gently places it on your table.

“Is anything gonna happen to you?” you can’t help but ask out of concern. 

Her smile assures you a little, but her words don’t, “honestly? I don’t know. I’ll find out if my publicist gives me hell tomorrow.”

She rises from her seat. “I’m just glad it’s over,” she says. “Don’t know how much longer I could’ve lived with that dry son of a bitch.”

Her sweater comes off her body. She tosses it at you. In her T-shirt, she struts towards the bedroom, stops in the doorway. With a look over her shoulder, she beckons you to join her—come make my night, would ya?—before slipping into the room.

Always a dance with her.

***

You’re starting to question where Heejin draws the line between her sex life and her regular life. 

(You’ve said this about a thousand times by now, but) Not that you’re carping or whatever, it’s just that sex on the kitchen counter while your instant noodles are clearly being overdone in the pot a few meters away is a bit of a safety hazard. You’re no chef, but bubble frothing out of a closed pot really isn’t a good sign.

“Heejin,” you say, struggling to fit her name between the ragged breaths and frantic thrusts. 

“I know,” she rasps in reply. “Ngh… We can… Turn it off later. I’m so close.”

Pretty solid reasoning in your opinion.

How you got into this situation is a bit more complicated that you’d care to explain, but let’s just say that a late night snack can quickly turn into a literal fuck-fest when Jeon Heejin palmed the shape of your boner as you put a pack of instant noodles into a boiling pot. You didn’t know what came over you really, but after the noodles went in and the pot lid was closed, you had her propped up on the counter and her panties around her ankles. You can figure out how you got to this point. 

Okay: to be fair to Heejin, you did kinda start this whole situation that might just put your lives on the line. You’re the perpetrator, criminal mastermind; yada-yada. But if you were to consider the technicalities, she did aggravate you to fuck her, and by so virtue of that you’re kinda both at fault. Does it make sense? Great, cause a situation where you’re both a little dirty minded makes for really great sex. 

Great… Now you just explained the complicated situation. Eh, who’s exempt from a little contradiction now and then. Anyway… Where were you?

“Oh my fucking god.” she’s moaning a lot louder than usual, loud enough to probably convert her voice into some sort of energy for the homeless or something. Between her thighs lay a wet mess that was the source of all this crying and keening, and your juice slicked cock is the thing that’s driving her wild with ecstasy as she wraps her legs around your waist and pulls you deeper into each thrust with her legs. “Fuck me harder please. I need to cum all over your pretty cock so badly I–”

She barely has it in her to finish her sentence. Her plea is truncated by a sharp cry, and it would be pretty funny if it weren’t for the fact that it's probably one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. The cry is almost delicate, fragile to the ear and almost like sweet music that plays in the dark. The keyword here is ‘almost’. Your description rings true, but the fact that she’s such a needy little bitch right now kind of ruins it. ‘Ruin’ is a little heavy handed; ‘taint’ would be a better word. 

Yeah… Her want taints the beauty behind her desire… But only a little.

“I’m cumming”—Heejin’s practically whimpering at this rate. God you’d have quite the mess to clean up later—”I’m fucking cumming on your cock daddy I–Oh… Oh god oh fuck.”

“Fucking cum,” you hiss, saliva flying past your teeth and maybe onto her ear. “Be a good little slut and cum for me. Give me a nice and tight pussy to cum inside of.”

It feels weird, dirty even, referring to Heejin as a slut, but her reaction tells you she likes it. She loves being called your slut. You can see her mouth agape, tongue sticking out a little. She can barely keep her eyes open as the pleasure courses through her. Her nails dig into your back, and you think she might be drawing blood, but the pain doesn't matter right now. The only thing that matters is the sight before you.

She cums hard, and you know this because her walls clamp down on you like a vice. If you could, you would have taken a picture. The sight is just that amazing, but you're also preoccupied. The pressure is just right. The rhythmic pulsing of her walls against your throbbing cock is too much for you to take. Your hips stutter to a stop as you release a deep moan, and she gasps as she’s filled with rope after rope of hot cum.

When you finally come down from your high, Heejin is still panting heavily, eyes still squeezed shut, and legs still wrapped around your waist. You can't hold back the little smile that crosses your face as you watch her catch her breath. She looks so peaceful. It's hard to imagine her as a girl with the dirtiest mouth you've ever heard. 

She peeks an eye open to see you staring.

“The pot dummy,” she reminds you, and the horrors of reality come crashing back all at once.

***

So you do find a little bit of a charm behind really soggy Buldak in the wee hours of the night. It’s not the best thing you’ve tasted, but it had its appeal. The sauce helped to mask the depression in the sad, close-to-slimy strands of dough in your bowls, though it didn’t stop you from experiencing a new texture that was severely overcooked noodles.

“Still think we could’ve left it in a little longer,” Heejin muses, staring at the limp noodle trapped between her chopsticks. “Maybe from there we could reverse-engineer the noodle and re-cook it.”

“Yea. And maybe we don’t fuck when there’s clearly a four minute limit to this stuff,” you add befor slurping up the last few spicy, sad and soggy strands in your bowl. 

“Hey. I’m pretty sure the sex was good enough to offset this abomination,” she huffs, setting down her bowl next to yours. “Besides… We’re kinda both in the wrong this time. It’s not always just me you know?”

“Never said it was your fault.” you’re admiring the way her eyes glow in the dim light. At the right angle, it looked like the light was filling her pupils in the most adorable way. “You’re just inferring shit from a passing statement.”

“Wonder where I picked that up from…” she fired back, though it felt much more like she was conceding defeat than challenging further provocation. It was always a dance with her: unpredictable patterns in constant motion, and all you can do is follow her lead.

Maybe one day you’d find the time - make up for the dance you lost and dance with her for real.

Hi. Kinda posting here again because my therapist said that it was good for me to continue writing to regulate my emotions. This one is kinda messy and unedited cause I just wanted to get this out here for funsies. Anyway, I won't be posting as frequently as I used to, but I will drop by from time to time. No promises that I'm gonna be incredibly active and no promises that I won't disappear of the face of the earth again.

Cheers, Nichu

[4pfsukuna]

She want a big dawg

Inspo: that trend on tiktok and yall know the one. Somebody made a edit to him to this and i seen the vision. Plus the girlies been saying they tired of smutt so

warning: its purely fluff; 865 word

Being ex military Terry always felt like he was on guard— being a light sleeper, always scoping the scenery out, early morning 6 mile bike rides but there was just something about you that put him at ease.

You were so soft, gentle, always finding the humor in something even if you did have a bit of a dark sense of humor. The scent of coconut always lingered on your smooth skin and your lips stayed pink and glossy no matter how much you licked them. 

The way you thought you could command him to do something even being nearly half his size when all he had to do was give you complete eye contact and you would fold like a lawn chair. All you had to do was bat those pretty brown eyes up at him and that man would build you a house anything to keep that smile on your face.

And in the evenings he loves sitting on the porch with you more specifically he’ll come find you wherever you are in the house, wrap his large arms around you and carry you listening to you rant about your day, or whatever book you were reading or whatever you see on social media.

“She dont want no puppy she want a big dog” you sing for the fourth time since he picked you up holding you with just one arm as if you weighed nothing and he just chuckles at you when you place a bunch of kisses on his face.

“You better chill before you start something mama” he leaves a peck on your lips watching the way you look at him with so much love and admiration like he hung the sun moon and stars in the sky just for you.

Ignoring him you squeeze him tighter in a hug loving the way he kisses the top of your head pulling you closer inhaling his scent feeling the humidity kiss your skin the minute he walks to the porch swing. down south was always warm but nothing could beat the warmth of your embrace.

“Babe, you know how much I love you?” You smile up at him tightening your legs around his waist and he holds your face in both of his large palms pecking your forehead, then nose and finally lips.

“What silly little tic tac trend you trying to trick me into now?” He asks, reading you like an open book watching the way your jaw drops. He knew when you were sweet talking him and what for too— you had been singing that song that one specific part for the past two days. 

“Its tik tok! And what you think you know me or something?” You playfully scrunch your face up pushing your long dark curls that fell from your bun out your face. He chuckles, angling his head down to you watching you squirm instantly. No matter how long yall was together it was certain things he did that still gave you butterflies and made you nervous.

“Baby girl don't insult me, of course i know you” and he pulls you back to him tightly closing his eyes enjoying the sound of nature as day turns into evening. “And i know if you keep pulling away from me imma have to really pin you down”

Terrys love language actually was physical touch, loved having you in his arms, carrying you, waking up in the morning to you still cuddled up to him or when he’s making breakfast and your little arms wrap around his waist grumbling about him leaving you and the bed being cold without him. Or when it’s your turn to cook dinner and he steals kisses knowing you don’t like to be bothered when you cook, always successfully fishing when you swat at him for trying to steal food from the pot. So who were you to deny this time as if your love language isn't spending time together.

You finally settle in his arms, head on his chest yet halfway on his upper arm and he sinks further into the swing slowly rocking it back and forth, left arm running up and down your back unaware of your antics until something catches his ear.

“She dont want no puppy” the music plays and you try to sit up as if he made empty threats tightening his biceps around your shoulders, he definitely was not against pinning you down. “She want a big dawg”

Opening his eyes he looks down at you watching how contempt you look with him squeezing tightly around you not even bothered in the slightest only looking up when you see him looking at you through the camera.

“Ok ok im done go ahead put your old man music on” you giggle happily. you got your video and his muscles were wrapped tightly around you, even placing a kiss on his bare chest before laying back down. Ignoring your slick comment he puts on redbone by childish gambino and like clockwork your hands start running over his back and arms slowly and softly turning him into putty, unraveling his muscles slowly putting him at ease like you always do. 

[afro-hispwriter]

Interview Shenanigans(TGC)

Tom Glynn-Carney x actress!reader

Request

Warnings- not edited, brief titty grabbing

wc-1.2k

-

Staff members were running around making sure lighting, sound, and cameras were ready. The interviewer was standing off to the side, waiting for their queue. 

Your makeup artist did some more touch ups and the show's publicist gave another talk. 

“You’re so far.” Tom put his hand under your chair and dragged it so your chairs touched. The sudden movement made you grab his shoulder so you didn’t fall. 

“Do you not get enough of me at home?” You whisper.

“I never can.” He flashed you a smile and squeezed your knee. You scrunched your nose at him and kissed his cheek. 

It was so hard for you two to keep your relationship away from the public. Especially since Tom is extremely touchy.

“Everyone take their places.” The producer calls out and everyone takes their seats. The interviewer walked into the small space and shook you and Tom's hand. The producer then started counting down from five. 

“Alright guys, we're going to jump right into it. I know you have had a long day so I have some fun questions and some would you rather.” 

“I'm excited.”

“Fun.”

“You guys have been working together for a couple years now. What's the best thing about each other?” They ask and you and Tom look at each other.

“Ooo that's such a sweet question.” You smile brightly and look at Tom. “Why don’t you go first?” You look at him with squinted eyes and he gives you the same look.

“Fine. I think the best thing about Y/n is how kind she is, she is very resilient and always tries to see the bright side of things and she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Awww.” You cooed and smiled. “You’re so sweet.” 

“And she is a good cook.” You doubled over slightly and laughed. 

“I know you love it.” You leaned back against your chair and Tom looked at you lovingly and you sighed. 

“Tom, he um.” You start and pause to think.

“Oh whatever should you say since there is so much to choose from.” He says over exaggerating his words making you laugh.

“Tom, he makes sure that I am seen and even if he has nothing to say he still listens, always. I believe we all need someone like that and I am glad I found him.” You grab Tom's knee and squeeze it. 

“Do you fancy me or something?” He says jokingly, making you laugh again and so does the interviewer. 

“He’s just such a good guy and I hope this isn’t the last time we share a screen together.” Tom nodded and lifted his fist up and you gave him a fist bump. 

“That is so sweet, I can feel your chemistry right now.” It was very cheesy for them to say but it made Tom's cheeks burn red and your face warmed. “Now to some would you rather questions. Would you rather go get a pint with Daemon, Joffrey, or Aemond?” 

“Aemond.” You immediately say and Tom’s head immediately shoots to you. 

“Why?” You smirk at him.

“You know why.” He playfully rolled his eyes and leaned back. 

“I would go with Joffrey.” Your eyes widened in shock. 

“And you questioned mine!?” 

“W-Why?” The interviewer asks and Tom goes to answer but stops making you laugh.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You whisper to him

“Well with Joffrey people would leave the pub and it would be quiet.”

“Yeah but I think with Joffery, three pints in and it can get a bit.” The interviewer grimaced. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be near him.” You leaned slightly into Tom. 

“I reckon I can take him though.” Tom says.

“Tom vs Joffrey?” 

“Yeah I’ll just choke him out.” Tom makes the choking motion with his arm and then he dropped them. 

“I'd pay to see that.” You say and Tom laughs and his arm makes its way around your chair. 

“Who would you rather have as your Ride or Die? Jon Snow, Khalessi, or Daemon.”

“Khalessi.” You say immediately again. “Everyone is gone when she is an option.” 

“Your obsession with her is concerning.”

“You can’t blame me.” 

“She is very loyal so I understand.” The interviewer says.

“Im sorry whats a ride or die?” Tom asks, looking between you and the interviewer. 

“It's like me and you.” You say and he still looked at you in confusion. “Like I will do anything for you and you’ll do anything for me no matter what.” You grabbed his knee and you nodded. 

“What were the options?” Tom chuckles.

“Jon Snow, Khalessi, or Daemon.” 

“Oh probably Khalessi then, you know she’s got all the dragons.” 

“Ugh you are so predictable.” You rolled your eyes and he shrugged. 

“I love whatever you love.” He poked your side and made you twist. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes playfully and looked back at the interviewer.

“Would you rather rule the seven kingdoms of Westeros or be a minister of magic in the wizarding world?”

“Oooo.” Tom lets out.

“Minister of Magic.” You say and Tom nods.

“Likewise.”

“I feel like I would have a higher chance of surviving if I was in that universe.” You say and Toms fingers dipped into the material of your open backed outfit. 

“Well it's still not an easy gig is it?”

“But compared to westeros…” 

“True. There are still a lot of eyes on you.” Then Tom says the stupidest thing. “Wingardium Tapioca or whatever it is.” Your jaw slacked in shock and then your face palmed. Tom looked embarrassed and slapped his legs and started laughing loudly. 

“Oh my gosh Tom.” He grabbed his cup of water and took a sip. 

“I'm going to go cry in the shower after this.”

“Next time we hang out we’re watching all the Harry Potter movies because that was really bad. It's Wingardium Leviosa.” 

“Nerd.” Tom says under his breath in a teasing manner and you squint your eyes.

“Watch yourself sir.” You bumped him with your arm.

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Unfortunately that's all the time we have left.” You and Tom groaned but you secretly knew you were happy it was over. You both held your hand out to the interviewer and Tom's assistant came up.

“The car is outside to take you back to the hotel.” You thanked them and Tom held his hand out for you to grab. Your fingers entwined together and you swung them back and forth to the car. 

-

The hotel room was a welcome sight. Tom threw his hat on the floor and kicked his shoes off. 

“They’ll come by and get these clothes tomorrow most likely.” You say taking off your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear and top. That came off too and so did your bra. Tom stole a look and he smirked and let you put a shirt on. You flopped down on the bed and settled under the covers. Tom was down to his boxers and he settled in behind you. 

“I love you.” He says and kisses the back of your ear and wraps an arm around your waist.

“I love you too.” You twist your head back and pucker your lips. Tom’s lips met yours and he squeezed you. His hand dipped under the shirt and his gingers instantly grabbed a breast and he squeezed. The noise you made was a mix of shock and a moan.

“Tom!” You pinched his arm and he drew his hand back and pouted. “Perv.”

“You love it.” He gave your cheek a big wet kiss, making you grimace and wipe it off.

“Order us some food.”

‘Hmph’

-

Comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated!

[grimeshound]

UNDER YOUR SPELL.

masterlist.

word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)

pairing: in-ho x you.

summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.

cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation

a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved

title from ‘under your spell’ by snow strippers, everytime I see an edit to him with this song it always eats so hard

---

Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.

You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.

You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name. 

“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”

The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.

You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He  kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.

Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.

One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.

He knew he was losing control.

When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.

Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you. 

He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.

And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.

“Sir?”

He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?” 

“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him. 

Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”

He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”

His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”

You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”

You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.

The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.

In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.

When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes. 

“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”

He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.

“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”

Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.

Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place. 

When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.

He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”

You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.

Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.

Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”

“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.

“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.

He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.

You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.

Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.

You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.” 

He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you. 

And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.

His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed. 

His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.

You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”

That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling. 

"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."

“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.

He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”

The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.

He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.

“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”

The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“ 

You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”

He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”

“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.

“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.

Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.

As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”

Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.

He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”

The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.

And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”

Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.

“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.

The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.