#yu yu drabbles

[mephisto-reporting]

Hearbreak Anniversary with Rafayel

Summary: It was your anniversary with Rafayel. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC? Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Rafayel Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Content Warning: Fear of abandonment, self worth issues, angst, hurt and slight comfort, Rafayel grovelling, Rafayel POV

The soft glow of the sunset filtered through the gauzy curtains of Rafayel’s studio, painting the space in warm hues of gold and orange. The place smelled faintly of him—a mix of turpentine, salt, and the faint trace of his cologne. You had spent hours here today, your hands busy arranging the decorations you’d so carefully prepared for this special occasion. Sea shells, shimmering like iridescent pearls, lined the edges of the room, their opalescent beauty a nod to the ocean he once called home. Candles flickered softly on every surface, their flames dancing to an unseen rhythm. You’d even managed to find strands of silken seaweed and glass ornaments, hoping to evoke the beauty of his heritage, the beauty of him.

Every corner of his art studio had been dusted, tidied, and then transformed with touches of magic, warmth, and care. You even placed the tiny trinkets and mementos you had kept from your shared moments—little souvenirs from your adventures together, knickknacks that held meaning between the two of you. You wanted him to feel at home, to feel the same sense of belonging that you had with him. You even wore your best clothes, the ones he had once complimented.

Today was your first anniversary. The thought alone sent your heart fluttering, and you’d poured all that love into this space, into this moment.

A few months ago he had told you this was just another day for him. A god’s sense of time was different, fleeting, perhaps even insignificant. But to you, it meant everything. It was a celebration of love that had somehow defied the odds—of a mortal heart tangled with one belonging to something far greater. So you ignored the whispering doubts that crept into the back of your mind, choosing instead to focus on trust. Rafayel had chosen you, not her. No matter how many stories tied them together, no matter the whispered inevitability of their connection, he had assured you. It was you he loved now.

But as the hours passed, that fragile trust began to tremble.

You sat in the chair by the window, smoothing down the dress you’d picked especially for today. Time crawled. The soft golden light of day gave way to a dark, yawning sky, and still, Rafayel didn’t come home. The anniversary dinner, meticulously prepared and carefully plated, sat untouched on the table. Each tick of the clock became a cruel reminder of his absence.

Worry gnawed at you. What if something had happened to him? Perhaps the art sale ran late, or he was caught up with his patrons. But he always came back home, right?

Your heart twisted as you reached for your phone, dialing a number you didn’t want to use but needed to.

“Thomas?” you asked hesitantly, your voice trembling.

“Oh, hey,” Rafayel’s manager greeted casually. “Everything okay?”

“Is Rafayel still at the sale?” You tried to keep the panic from seeping into your tone, but the silence on the other end was damning.

“Uh… no, he left hours ago. Said he was going to grab dinner. Lina was with him.”

Your grip tightened on the phone, your knuckles turning white.

Lina.

The name struck like a knife.

“Thanks, Thomas,” you whispered, hanging up before he could ask anything more.

You sat there, staring at the flickering candles, their light casting long shadows across the studio walls. He was with Lina. On your anniversary. You had trusted him, convinced yourself that you were enough despite the insecurities that had clawed at your heart since the day you met him.

But now, they came roaring to life.

You had known, of course, who Lina was. She was the one linked to the sea god, his past, his history—his heart. You tried not to let it affect you, tried to bury the insecurities that rose whenever she came up in conversation. Rafayel always assured you there was nothing between them. But then why was he with her, of all people, on your anniversary?

Tears blurred your vision as your chest tightened painfully. Lina.

She was everything you were not. Strong, beautiful, a part of Rafayel’s past, his first love. How could you compete with that? How could you compete with someone who had shared so much more with him, someone whose bond with him was carved in the very fabric of his existence? She was a part of him, woven into the his story, while you were… just someone who had stumbled into his life, someone insignificant in comparison.

Lina... The woman who was forever tied to his past. The sea god's bride. The one he’d loved for so long, the one who had always been there, time after time. You had told yourself, time and time again, that it was nothing. That Rafayel was different with you. He had assured you that there was nothing between them anymore.

But if it’s nothing, why is he with her now? On our day.

Your fingers trembled as you held the phone to your ear, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to ask any more questions. The answers were irrelevant now. His absence, her presence, they were all you needed to know.

Tears pooled at the edges of your vision before spilling over, streaking your face like tiny rivers tracing paths through dusted cheeks. It wasn’t fair. Nothing felt fair. He had promised you. He had promised. But promises were like ocean tides, weren’t they? Sweeping away whatever they could, leaving only bits of broken shells behind.

Lina was everything you could never be. She was strong, beautiful, powerful—everything that Rafayel deserved. She had the sea god’s heart, had always had it, and here you were, just a fleeting ripple on the surface, barely a mark to him. She was woven into the fabric of his past, his future. What are you to him? What have you ever been?

The memories of your relationship, the quiet moments of closeness, the laughter shared under the soft, flickering light of his candles, all those moments seemed so... fragile now. Fragile and fleeting. You were nobody. Just a distraction, a place holder. Nothing more.

You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor like the scratch of claws on stone. The studio, his studio, filled with remnants of him, was suffocating. His scent lingered in the air, the faint trace of his cologne mixing with the oils and paints scattered everywhere. His taste still clung to your lips from the last time you’d kissed him, the memories of his touch branded into your skin. It was all too much. Too much. The studio, so full of him, was now a suffocating reminder of what you had lost. You didn’t want to stay. You couldn’t.

You tried to hold the tears back, but it was useless. Every doubt, every fear you’d bottled up over the months came crashing down, drowning you in their suffocating weight.

This wasn’t love. This was a cruel game, one you couldn’t win.

You couldn’t breathe. You had to get out.

Your legs moved before your mind could catch up, carrying you toward the door. The wind hit your face the moment you stepped outside, cool and biting, but it wasn’t enough to quell the storm raging inside you.

You ran.

The streets blurred into one indistinct smear of light and shadow as you ran aimlessly, your feet pounding against the pavement, carrying you farther and farther from that studio. From him.

Eventually, the pavement gave way to sand, and the sharp tang of the ocean filled the air. The moon hung high above, casting a silver glow over the beach. Your chest heaved, your lungs burning as you collapsed onto the sand, letting the waves crash against the shore in a soothing rhythm that mocked your turmoil. You kept running, further and further away from whitesand bay, along the beach.

You stumbled, falling to your knees in the sand, clutching your arms around yourself. Your chest heaved as the tears fell freely, the sound of the ocean mixing with your sobs. Lina. You could picture them together, her hand in his, the same way they had been for so many years before you. The seagulls cried above you, indifferent to your pain. And in that moment, you realized that the world didn’t stop for you. It never had. You stared out at the endless sea, the dark horizon stretching in front of you.

How could I have been so blind?

The waves crashed against the shore, each one louder than the last. You are nothing to him. The thought echoed in your mind over and over, relentless, until you could barely breathe under the weight of it.

And just when you thought the world couldn’t get any colder, the tears started again. They fell freely now, salt mixing with the salt of the sea.

You had wanted to be enough. But maybe that was a joke after all. But even as your body trembled with the weight of the heartbreak, you knew one thing: You could never go back. Not to him, not to that studio, not to any of it. You were just a wave, crashing onto the shore, and he was the sea god.

The night wrapped itself around you like a suffocating blanket. The cold air bit into your skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache clawing at your chest. Each crashing wave seemed to echo the bitter truth you couldn’t escape: you were never going to be enough for him. You curled tighter into yourself, trembling as the tears continued to flow. The sand clung to your dress, to your damp hands, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The world had narrowed to the storm raging inside you—a tempest of betrayal, doubt, and misery.

The sharp chill of the ocean breeze whipped your hair against your tear-streaked face, but it was nothing compared to the icy grip of despair coiling around your heart. Every promise he’d made, every word of reassurance, felt like shards of glass now, cutting into the fragile hope you’d built. The waves surged closer, the cold spray dotting your skin. Your sobs mixed with the crashing tide, swallowed up by the vast, indifferent sea.

You hugged yourself tightly, your body shaking as the cold seeped deeper into your bones. Yet, you stayed there, rooted to the spot, as if the ocean could somehow wash away the ache inside you. But no wave could reach that far, no tide could touch the place where your heart ached. You wanted to scream, to shout at the world for the injustice of it all, but the air in your lungs wouldn’t let you. You were too small for this world, too insignificant for him. You would never be the sea. You were just a small wave, lost in the expanse of the tide.

Rafayel’s POV

The door to the studio swung open, and Rafayel stepped inside, laughter trailing after him. “You should’ve seen the look on that shopkeeper’s face when I said we’d take both cakes,” he said, his voice warm and light. He turned to Lina, who chuckled softly as she followed him, holding one of the carefully boxed pastries. “He probably thought we were insane.”

Rafayel kicked the door shut behind him, balancing his own box of confections, his grin still in place. “I can’t wait to see my cutie’s face when she tries these. She’s going to love them.”

But the moment his gaze swept across the room, his laughter faltered and then stopped entirely.

The studio was transformed. Soft candlelight flickered, casting golden hues across the walls. Seashells glimmered like scattered pearls, carefully arranged along the edges of the space. Strands of delicate seaweed draped like garlands, their green silkiness catching the light. Trinkets, small but unmistakably meaningful, dotted the surfaces—each one an ode to moments he had shared with you. The table was set with plates of untouched food, lovingly prepared, and the air held a faint, tantalizing aroma that now felt unbearably heavy.

He froze, the pastry box slipping slightly in his grip. His throat tightened as his eyes roved over every detail, taking in the love and care you had poured into the space. The decorations, the mementos, the effort—it was overwhelming.

“Rafayel?” Lina’s voice broke through the silence. She stepped forward, her brows knitting in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” His voice cracked, and he set the box down on the nearest surface with trembling hands. “I fucked up,” he whispered, barely audible. His fingers grazed one of the seashells, its surface smooth and cool. He trailed his hand over a string of seaweed, the soft texture almost mocking him. “I fucked up bad.”

Lina’s concern deepened. “What are you talking about?”

Rafayel turned toward her, his expression stricken. “The anniversary. Our anniversary. It slipped my mind.” His voice was a low, shaky whisper as he glanced back at the table, the untouched plates, the flickering candles. “She did all of this… for me. For us.”

He called out your name, his voice echoing through the space. “Are you here? Cutie?” His steps quickened as he moved through the studio, searching. The bathroom. The bedroom. The small corner where you sometimes curled up to read. “Are you asleep?” he called, though he knew better. Each empty room was another blow to his gut.

Panic clawed at him as he returned to the main room, his gaze darting to the table again, the small trinkets, the soft glow of candles still burning. The room felt haunted, filled with the ghost of your hope and effort.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, gripping it tightly. He grabbed his phone and immediately dialed Thomas.

“Thomas, did she—did she say anything to you? Did she mention where she might go?” Rafayel’s voice was taut with desperation.

Thomas hesitated. “She called me earlier. She asked if you were still at the sale. That’s all she said.”

The weight of Thomas’s words slammed into Rafayel like a wave. You’d called, searching for him, only to learn the truth he had tried to ignore. It had slipped his mind completely. He didn’t know you were setting all of this up. For him. For the both of you.

“Thanks,” Rafayel muttered, ending the call and immediately dialing your number. He paced the studio, his heart racing as the line rang once… twice… three times—

And then he heard it. The faint buzz of your phone, abandoned on the sofa near the window.

“Shit!” Rafayel cursed, grabbing the device and staring at the darkened screen as if it could offer him answers. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He collapsed onto the chair you had once sat in, his head in his hands. Where were you? His gaze drifted to the table again, the untouched dinner, the carefully arranged decorations.

How could he have been so blind? So careless? You had given him everything, and he… he had been too wrapped up in himself, too foolish to see what truly mattered.

Lina hesitated before taking a few careful steps toward Rafayel, watching his every move with growing concern. She’d never seen him like this before. His usual confident, almost cocky demeanor had vanished, leaving only raw distress in its place. He sat slumped in the chair, his phone clutched tightly in his hands, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath.

"Rafayel..." she began softly, her voice gentle but concerned. "What’s going on? What happened?"

Her hand brushed against his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, but the instant her fingers made contact with his skin, he flinched as though struck. His body jerked back, his eyes flashing with something wild—something dangerous.  His eyes, usually a mischievous swirl of pink and blue, flared into a startling, unearthly bright blue before he clenched them shut, his jaw tightening.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as he pulled away, his fists curling. “Lina, I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He forced himself to inhale deeply, reigning in his emotions as the scales receded and his eyes returned to their usual hue. “I’m fine,” he lied, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “I just... I need to find her.”

Lina’s hand hovered uncertainly before falling back to her side. “Rafayel,” she began gently, “her phone’s here. Her purse. Even her car keys. Where could she have gone?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped, the sharpness in his voice born of self-directed frustration. “And that’s what’s driving me insane.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as if the pain could ground him. “She’s out there somewhere, without her coat, without her phone... and it’s freezing tonight.”

Lina straightened, crossing her arms. “Then let me help—”

“No.” His interruption was immediate, his tone brooking no argument. He turned to her, his expression pained but resolute. “This is my fault. I need to fix this myself.”

“But—”

“Please, Lina,” he cut in, softer this time. “If she’s out there, you’ll hear from me. Just… if you see her, let me know. But I have to do this alone.”

After a long, hesitant pause, Lina relented, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Fine. But don’t do anything reckless. I’ll keep my eyes open and let you know if I find anything.”

Rafayel nodded, murmuring his thanks before grabbing his coat and storming out into the night.

The cold air bit at his face as he ran through the streets, his breath forming short puffs in the frigid night. He clutched his phone tightly, the screen glowing as he swiped to a recent photo of you, showing it to every passerby he stopped.

“Have you seen her?” he asked a bewildered man on the corner. “This woman? Please—it’s urgent.”

The man shook his head, muttering an apology before hurrying off. Rafayel grit his teeth, suppressing the wave of panic threatening to consume him. Where are you?

The thought repeated like a drumbeat as he made his way to the beach. The icy wind off the water made him shiver, but he pressed forward, searching desperately. He called your neighbor, pacing along the shoreline as he waited for an answer.

The voice on the other end was soft, a little worried. “No... the lights are off. The door’s locked. I haven’t seen her since this afternoon.”

His heart skipped a beat, the silence that followed pressing like a weight on his chest. Where were you? Where could you have gone? You were working so hard fore him, for the both of you since the afternoon and he wasn’t even there to experience it with you together. He could imagine it, the smile on your face as you placed those shells, the excitement in your movements as you cooked his favorite food. His eyes darted to the horizon, a dark line of water stretching out before him, and his legs moved faster, pushing him toward the shore, toward the place where you sometimes went to escape.

The beach was empty when he arrived, the wind biting at his skin, the waves crashing softly against the sand. He scanned the shoreline, dread filling him as he searched. There was no sign of you, but his heart refused to let go of the hope that you might be here.

He walked for what felt like hours, the weight of the cold creeping into his bones as the night deepened. The autumn air turned chillier, the first hints of winter brushing against his skin. You hadn’t taken your coat. You hadn’t taken anything. What was he thinking? You’d never leave without saying something. So why was he—

His breath hitched as his gaze landed on something ahead. A small lump on the sand.

His heart stopped, the world narrowing down to that single, fragile form crumpled against the cold ground.

“No!” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. He ran towards you, his legs moving faster than they ever had before, fear propelling him forward. His feet barely touching the ground as he pushed forward, his every step frantic. He reached you within seconds, his pulse hammering in his ears. He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he gently touched your shoulder.

“Cutie?” he called, his voice cracking. His knees hit the sand as he reached you, and his heart twisted painfully at the sight. You were curled in on yourself, your arms hugging your knees, your face hidden. Tear tracks glistened on your cheeks, even in the dim moonlight, and your body trembled from the cold.

“Shit,” Rafayel hissed, his voice barely a whisper as panic surged again. You were cold, so cold. Damp from the wet sand, your skin pale as if the very life had been drained from you. He pulled off his jacket, draping it around you as gently as he could, his hands still shaking.

Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I see how badly she needed me?

He slid his arms around you, his heart aching as he pulled you into his lap, cradling you as though you might break into a thousand pieces. He brushed the strands of hair from your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he whispered your name over and over, praying that you would wake up. That you would hear him. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling a wave of guilt crash over him. “What did I do? What the hell did I do…”

But he couldn’t. Not now. Now, all he could do was hold you, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he rocked gently, trying to warm you, trying to make everything okay.

“I’m here, okay? I’m here. I’m so sorry, cutie.” he whispered, his voice breaking. His mind raced, but nothing could erase the hollow ache in his chest. The thought of losing you, of failing you—he couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, the words tumbling from him like a confession he had never intended to make. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up. I messed this up, I—I’m here now.”

He clutched you tighter, trembling with the weight of his regret. The wind cut through the beach, but he barely noticed, too consumed by the sight of you—so still, so fragile, in his arms. His mind raced, scrambling for something, anything, to fix this

Your eyes fluttered open weakly, barely meeting his. You were too exhausted to respond, your body utterly spent.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice unsteady as he gently tucked his coat tighter around you. “I’ve got you. I’m so sorry.” His thumb brushed the tear-streaked curve of your cheek, his chest aching at the evidence of your heartbreak. “You shouldn’t be out here. It’s too cold...not like this. Not alone,” Rafayel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hands trembled as he tried to warm you, his arms sheltering you from the relentless chill of the wind. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—” He broke off, his throat tightening painfully. Words felt so useless now, but he couldn’t stop them. He needed you to know. “I’m the biggest idiot in the world. I forgot something so important, something that should’ve been at the center of my mind.” His arms slipped beneath you, lifting you effortlessly despite your protests—if there were any.

Your lips moved faintly, but the sound was lost in the cold wind. He leaned closer, his ear near your mouth. “What is it? I’m here. Please... say something.”

“I thought... maybe you'd care,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. The words struck him harder than any physical blow ever could. He felt the sting in his chest, his breath hitching as guilt twisted the knife deeper.

“I do care!” he exclaimed, his voice desperate. “More than anything. I was just... I was so caught up in everything else, and I—I didn’t realize how much you needed me. How much you’ve always been there for me. I messed up, cutie. I know I did.”

You shivered against him, and he shifted to shield you better from the biting wind. “Let me take you home,” he pleaded, his voice softer now. “We’ll fix this. I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

For a long moment, you didn’t respond, and his heart hammered in his chest. Finally, you gave the faintest of nods, your head resting against his chest. You shivered in his arms, your eyes fluttering shut again, too drained to muster a response. Panic surged in Rafayel as he felt how cold your skin was against his. He shifted, standing with you carefully cradled in his arms, his coat wrapped tightly around you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice urgent but soft. “I need you to hold on, okay? Just a little longer. Let’s get you somewhere warm.” He pressed his cheek to your temple for a moment, as though the simple touch might reassure you—and himself—that you were still here with him.

Rafayel didn’t waste a second. He scooped you up gently, careful not to jostle you. The warmth of his jacket wrapped around your frame and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat seemed to soothe some of the tension in your body. He murmured quiet reassurances as he carried you, his voice a constant presence in the cold, empty night. His normally cocky demeanor had shattered into shards of raw vulnerability, replaced by a frantic urgency to get you home—his home. Your breathing was shallow, your limbs slack in his hold, and every uneven step he took felt like walking a tightrope with everything he valued most precariously balanced in his grasp. He adjusted his hold, cradling you tighter against his chest. “Look, I know I’m an idiot sometimes. Fine, most of the time,” he admitted, his words a jumble of nervous energy and shaky humor. “But this isn’t the time to prove me wrong, alright? Just hang on a little longer. I’m taking you home.”

By the time you reached the studio, the candlelight had dimmed, but the room still held the warmth of the love you had poured into it. Rafayel carried you inside. By the time he reached the threshold of his room, his shirt clung to him, drenched from sweat and your tears. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, careful not to jostle you, and hurried inside.

The room was cold and dimly lit, the heater long dormant. He set you down on the bed, fumbling with the blankets to cocoon you in their warmth. Your body trembled, and his chest constricted as he watched you stir faintly before slipping deeper into unconsciousness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible at first, as if the walls themselves might condemn him. Then louder, more desperate, his voice cracking. “I’m so damn sorry. I was stupid—so, so stupid. I should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve kept you safe. Should’ve—” He stopped himself, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sob building in his throat. His eyes flickered between his usual hues and that unearthly blue every now and then.

His hands hovered over your face, fingers trembling as he brushed damp strands of hair from your skin. “You’re too good for me, you know that? Too good for someone who screws up as much as I do. But I promise—” His voice broke, the words spilling out in a frenzied rush. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. Il love you, cutie. I love you so much.” And then, because even in his rawest moments he couldn’t help himself, he added with a weak, self-deprecating chuckle, “I am lucky I’m this charming, or I don’t think you’d ever put up with me.”

He turned on the heater, pacing back and forth as he muttered under his breath, berating himself in every way he could think of, his brattiness peeking through as he cursed the broken world that had led to this moment. He glanced at you repeatedly, as if reassuring himself you hadn’t vanished, that you hadn’t slipped through his fingers.

When you stirred, your eyelids fluttering open, he froze mid-step. His usual confident smirk was gone, replaced by wide, guilt-stricken eyes. “You’re awake,” he blurted, his voice filled with relief but tinged with apprehension. “I know I screwed up,” he admitted quietly, his lips brushing against your temple. “But—seriously, who let you do this to yourself, huh? Oh wait, that’s me. Fantastic job, Rafayel. Bravo.” He huffed out a shaky laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sitting at your bedside. The words spilled out before he could stop them, over and over again. “I’m so, so sorry. This—this isn’t how it was supposed to go. You’re supposed to be mad at me, not like this. Not…” His voice cracked, and he scrubbed a hand down his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Then, almost instinctively, the mask of bravado slipped back into place. “But, hey, look at you, stealing my bed like it’s your right. I mean, sure, I offered, but still.” His smirk faltered, his voice softening. “You better not make a habit of this, you know? Making me worry this much.”

You shifted, your eyelids fluttering completely open, and the sight of your weary gaze meeting his nearly unraveled him.

“Raf?” Your voice was weak, barely audible, but it was enough to snap him upright.

“Hey, you’re awake!” He forced a grin, though it couldn’t hide the guilt pooling in his eyes. “Good, because I was just about to start serenading you with an apology song. Don’t ask for a refund… the lyrics are terrible.”

You tried to sit up, but he was on you in an instant, gently pressing you back down. “Whoa, whoa, no sudden moves, alright? Just... stay put for once. Let me handle it for a change.”

"Handle what?" you asked, your voice edged with exhaustion and confusion.

His grin wavered, giving way to something more honest, more afraid. “Everything. All of it. I... I screwed up, okay? I’m the idiot who let you get like this, who didn’t see—who didn’t stop—” His words tangled, and he exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry, and I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. Or, you know, until you tell me to shut up. Whichever comes first.”

Your lashes fluttered weakly again, and a barely audible sound escaped your lips. “...Rafayel...?”

His heart soared and broke all at once at the sound of your voice. “I’m here,” he said quickly, leaning closer so you could hear him clearly. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Tears welled in his eyes as you looked up at him, your gaze heavy with exhaustion and something he couldn’t quite name—hurt, maybe, or disappointment. It cut him deeper than any blade ever could.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice a choked whisper. “I know that doesn’t fix this, but I swear, I’ll spend every moment making it up to you if you let me.”

For a moment, silence hung between you, broken only by the hum of the heater and the soft whistle of the wind outside. Finally, you whispered, your voice trembling, “I waited...”

“I know,” he whispered, his tears falling freely now. “You shouldn’t have had to. You deserve better than that, better than me—but I’m begging you, please give me another chance. Don’t give up on me yet.”

Finally, your voice, though weak, broke the quiet. “You forgot... something that meant so much to me.”

Rafayel’s throat tightened, but he nodded, accepting your words. “I know. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you. I’ll show you how much you mean to me. I love you,” he whispered against your skin, the words soft but raw with sincerity. “More than anything. More than I can even say. I don’t deserve you, but… please, let me try. Let me make it up to you.”

“Don’t leave me,” he repeated, his voice a breathless whisper, “Not like this.” His voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, you could see the mask slip—just for a second. Rafayel was scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of failing you. It was the one thing he had never let you see, the one thing he kept locked away in the deep recesses of his heart, but now, it was clear as day.

As you looked at him, something shifted between the two of you—an understanding, perhaps. You could see his desperation, the way he clung to the edges of his composure, trying to hide the vulnerability he never allowed anyone to witness.

I thought... I thought this was everything I could give. Everything I could be..." your own voice cracking.

He shook his head again, his grip never loosening. “You’re so much more than all of this. I’ve been blind, cutie. And now I can see it—see you.” He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if to erase every doubt that had taken root there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for making you feel invisible.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the tears still staining your face, but the weight of his words was a strange kind of relief. He was here. He saw you now. The storm of emotions inside you hadn’t dissipated, but his presence, the raw sincerity in his voice, made you feel something close to safety.

Rafayel kissed your forehead softly, the gentle pressure of his lips a tender promise. “I’m here, cutie. And I’ll do everything I can to make this right. You won’t feel invisible again.”

You nodded slowly, the tears still flowing, but there was a flicker of hope, however faint. "Just... don't forget again," you whispered.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice firm, but his eyes were full of vulnerability. "I won’t. Never again."

You didn’t respond immediately, your eyes closing as if you were too weary to respond. But when Rafayel reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, a faint squeeze answered him. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was enough—a thread of hope that he clung to with everything he had. For now, you didn’t pull away, and that was a start.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[jiminomenon]

: ̗̀➛ the devil wears prada series

blurbs

ׂׂૢ bratty beginnings

ׂׂૢ model! karina taking care of sick assistant! reader

ׂׂૢ model! karina and assistant! reader become parents

ׂׂૢ assistant! reader going viral and capturing the attention of model! karina’s fans

ׂׂૢ assistant! reader ignores model! karina after a fight

ׂׂૢ model! karina cheers assistant! reader up

ׂׂૢ. model! karina goes live and gets annoyed with fans asking for assistant! reader

ׂׂૢ assistant! reader gets jealous

ׂׂૢ. model! karina gets sick

drabbles/asks

ׂׂૢ assistant! reader accidentally calling model! karina informally

ׂׂૢ does model! karina find assistant! reader wearing suits hot?

ׂׂૢ model! karina’s colleague is interested in assistant! reader

ׂׂૢ if assistant! reader went on leave for a week

ׂׂૢ if model! karina meets with assistant! reader’s ex

ׂׂૢ model! karina’s reaction assistant! reader comes to work with a ‘hickey’

ׂׂૢ assistant! reader threatens to quit after her and model! karina get into a fight

text messages

ׂׂૢ none yet.

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 — gojo satoru

synopsis. the first years find old videos burned onto a dvd of you, satoru, shoko, and geto from 2005/6.

wc. 2.7k

tags. gojo x reader, you+shoko+gojo+geto being in the same year and besties, set in the present and past, fluff

next part / series masterlist

"is it recording?" asked one muffled but familiar voice. the screen was black, the camera covered by something or someone. the pitch was marginally higher than they were used to but yuji and nobara grinned at each other as they recognised the voice of their teacher.

"how can anyone see when you're holding it like that?" this one was more feminine and unfamiliar to the two - but not for megumi who smiled sadly at the laptop screen.

"give it to me idiots," this was another female voice. there was some more chattering in the background but the audio hadn’t been picked up over the rustling of the camera being passed around. then, for a moment, the screen goes completely white as it focused on the figure in front: shoko ieiri. 

she turned the camera around so it was looking at her three peers all wearing the same sheepish grins. "you hadn't even taken off the lens cover." 

“it was satoru’s fault,” the other female sorcerer accused the white haired boy next to her.

“no it wasn’t!” gojo whined, geto on the other side of him stifling a laugh at his childish mannerisms. he looked in disbelief that his best friend was not defending him, “why am i always the scapegoat?”

yuuji paused the video to point at the unknown girl, “who is that?”

megumi hesitated for a brief second before responding, “yn.”

“you knew her?” nobara raised a brow at her dark-haired friend. he was often stoic and kept to himself but they’d been together for several months now and even she could pick up on the uncomfortable change in his demeanour. 

megumi hummed, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the paused screen, “mhm.” you looked happy in the clip, always amused when it came to winding up gojo. he’d seen it with his own two eyes.

“did she leave jujutsu?” yuuji pondered aloud.

“something like that,” he swallowed thickly.

nobara gave megumi’s hand a light squeeze, but didn’t say anything. megumi had initially been against the idea of looking through the dvd to see their teacher’s teenage years at jujutsu high - this explained why.

yuuji, on the other hand, was oblivious to the interaction, more eager to see a young gojo (and nanami too, he hoped). he reached across nobara to unpause the video without another question.

"can we just do what we actually came out here to do?” geto asked in an exasperated tone, but he was clearly smiling as he spun gojo around so the two could go back to back. “who's taller, me or satoru?" the two had been arguing over the fact all morning so it had been shoko to suggest recording it so that there was actual evidence that neither could deny.

before either could stand fully straight against one another, you interrupted with no hesitation, "suguru." gojo’s eyes widened and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his expression.

"you didn't even look properly!" he threw his hands out dramatically and you shrugged, dismissing his distress.

"didn't need to," you waved a finger up and down, “shorty.”

there was a brief second of back and forth between you and gojo, no actual words being said until his pout lifted into a mischievous smile. that had you spinning on your heel in a futile attempt to try and escape him but it took only three of his strides till he’s got you in his hold, fingers tickling your sides.

“can we go ten minutes without you two flirting?” shoko complained over your laughs from behind the camera, panning over to geto who was shaking his head with a similar look that she undoubtedly wore too.

yuuji’s eyes were blown wide when he paused it again, looking at megumi in disbelief (even nobara had to sneak a glance for an explanation because she’d never seen their teacher so physically close to anyone like that). “sensei had a girlfriend?” 

“sort of,” megumi shrugged.

“oh my-” yuuji begun to exclaim but megumi cut him off by placing a hand over his wide mouth.

“if you ask any more questions, i will turn it off.”

instantaneously, yuuji mimicked zipping his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, settling back into his seat. the dark-haired teenager unpaused the video.

the clip comes back to life again, gojo with his arms wrapped around your centre as he ceases his tickling in full view. his sleeves are rolled up so it’s visible on camera where you had dug your nails into his skin trying to prise his hands from you (very unsuccessfully, might you add). “that was not flirting. this is flir- ow i just wanted a kiss.” 

the camera dropped as shoko laughed and the video ended several seconds later, the screen swapped back to one full of files and thumbnails. there had to be well over a hundred videos, maybe more, all ranging from a few seconds to even an hour for some. 

nobara scrolled down until she came across a clip with gojo as the thumbnail. this one, she decided.

the video buffered for a brief moment before beginning. this one was outside this time, somewhere on the grounds of the high school. gojo had forgone his uniform jacket once more and his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose as he slightly bent down to hear what was being said.

shoko was the one holding the camera again – as she often was – and the one asking questions, "what's your favourite thing about being a sorcerer?"

gojo pretended to deeply ponder the question, tapping his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. just as he went to answer the question, voices came from behind both of them: two other students began walking towards them from a path on the other side of the open field.

“is that yn and geto?” gojo asked to no one in particular. he held up a finger to shoko as his feet were naturally leading him in the direction of the two people he care for most, “one second.”

shoko panned back to herself, nose scrunched up and a cigarette between her lips. she looked like she was going to complain about gojo’s inability to stay focused on one task at a time when she too got distracted by her friends in the distance. 

"someone's in love," she sung as she spun around, pointing at you and gojo and then her mouth as she pretended to gag. gojo had already presumably checked in on geto and now his whole focus was on making sure you’d come back from the mission in one piece. in the footage he pressed one long kiss to your forehead, hugging you closely to his body. “i need to smoke.”

yuuji was practically squirming in his seat, itching to say something. one sharp look from nobara, however, and he thinks better of it. the orange-haired sorcerer went back to her scrolling, finding a short fifteen second clip that lasted only twenty seconds.

initially, the screen was dark once more as it was being readjusted and then a young male, no older than sixteen came into view with a wide smile. “i’m going to be japan’s strongest sorcerer one day!”

“yu!” you appeared behind him, passing him a soft drink bottle, “of course you are! best the world has ever seen.”

“after me,” geto, who was sat next to haibara, joked as he looked at his junior with a fondness that you shared. there were some more voices and haibara glancing between talking sorcerers but nothing overtly interesting in the final few seconds.

“i have no idea who that was,” megumi admitted, and yuuji nodded nonchalantly like his silence wasn’t killing him. even the dark-haired sorcerer couldn’t stop himself from being somewhat amused by his peer.

megumi was the one to scroll down this time. he was more methodical than nobara had been and looked at several thumbnails before deciding finally on one of you and gojo. he recognised the date underneath as a date gojo had scribbled on the back of a photo that he kept in his wallet.

you were holding the camera this time, pointing it at gojo who was staring up at the clear night sky. it was well past curfew and you were both going to be in for it when yaga found you but the conflict to come could not be felt in the serenity of the fireflies’ buzzing.

“look at how beautiful the stars are,” you said aloud, though you’re entire focus was on your boyfriend in front of you. he turned to agree (and probably tell you some random fact that he knew about one particular constellation) only to catch your sly smile and your heart-eyed stare.

there was a split second as his eyes darted between yours and the camera that he almost appeared… nervous? bashful? but he quickly recovered with an eye roll, “you’re literally blessed to even be in my presence.”

you panned the camera around to yourself where you stared at gojo with a raised eyebrow. “if you can’t handle my rizz just say so.” gojo snorted and you could only keep up the facade for another second before you were giggling too. 

he rolled closer to you so he could lay his head on your chest and you lifted the camera higher to make sure you both stayed within the frame.

“smile toru,” you poked his cheek lightly and pointed up. it was odd for his students to be watching this – to see their powerful sensei with his guard completely down, tired, and in love. gojo did as he was told, ocean blue eyes almost illuminating under the night’s shadow.

it was that moment that he had saved as a photo; gojo smiling up at the camera with his body covering yours whilst you look down with him with more love than he thought he could ever deserve.

“hey! i was watching that,” yuuji complained after megumi pressed escape, cutting the video short.

megumi sniffed lightly, but shrugged it off by giving yuuji a distraction, “you choose the next one.” this was sufficient enough to distract the minor disappointment and yuuji was quick to find one he liked.

“yn’s crying! i wonder what happened,” yuuji hurriedly clicked onto the video, invested in the life of a sorcerer he could never know.

“guess who broke up again,” shoko said in a sing-song tone as you glared at her. she was sat at her desk and you were on her bed, a mountain of used tissues behind you. your face was red and blotchy from tears and you clearly did not want to be recorded right then.

“it’s not funny,” you sniffled, “and it’s just a break.”

you mumbled the last part and shoko deadpanned to the camera, mockingly mouthing what you had just said. “still disrupting my beauty sleep by coming in my room and crying,” she turned in her chair towards you, “believe it or not i don’t just wake up looking this flawless.”

“ha ha,” you uttered sarcastically, “it’s not my fault i love him.”

“you’re seventeen,” shoko dragged out, “there’ll be other ones.”

you stopped your pity party for a brief second to look shoko dead in the eye, “have you seen his bank account? there will not be other ones.” you both broke out into laughter almost instantly, the healing sorcerer agreeing with your argument.

shoko pointed to the camera, “gojo satoru i hope you see this. your girl is a gold digger confirmed.”

the video then gets cut off once a pillow has been launched directly at shoko’s head.

“next one! next one! they have to get back together!” nobara insisted. megumi lets her play the next video, he didn’t tell her about what he knew — that he’d seen you and gojo in love and together well after the video. that you survived the tribulations that came with being a teenager and overcame more as sorcerers than the average couple should have to deal with.

“so it’s been…” shoko held up one finger, then two, then glanced to geto for help.

“three days and six hours,” he recounted, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“three days and six hours since gojo and yn called it quits and now here they are, making out at an official jujutsu event very not subtly,” shoko informed the camera, swapping the view so that it was in fact exposing your escapades at the formal event. it was nothing overtly raunchy, just gojo pressing you to a wall as he kissed your lips. still, there’s a time and a place.

“are you seriously recording this?” geto asked.

shoko spun the camera to him, “you want the camera on you?”

geto winked, adjusting his tie and leaning back on the bench as he manspread. “i look good right?” shoko shook the camera to say ‘no’ and he shrugged, pulling out a lighter for the cigarette he held between his lips. he lit his and then offered it to shoko.

just as she grabbed the lighter, a loud crash came from the direction that the two of you had been. somehow in the thirty seconds that she had been focused on geto, you two had stopped your kissing session, zenin naoyo had showed up and gojo was throwing punches with the zenin.

geto dropped his cigarette as he quickly raced to help out his best friend. shoko too followed after, running with the camera facing the fight as she called out, “the girls are fighting!”

“i bet sensei won,” yuuji smugly said as the video ended. 

nobara scoffed, taking back control of the laptop as she tried to find their next video, “obviously. he never loses – especially not to zenin naoya.” unable to make a decision with the hundreds to choose from, nobara closed her eyes, scrolled and clicked on a random video.

you and shoko were the two on screen, sat at a table seating on the train. 

“shopping haul!” you held up the bags excitedly and shoko hushed you, pointing to the seats across from you and mouthing ‘they’re sleeping’. you whispered an ‘oops’ and briefly showed a young nanami and haibara resting his head on his shoulder. 

quietly lifting up the three massive bags of shopping the two of you had between yourselves (a difficult task given the rustling of the paper), you began to lay out your items on the table. the both of you took it in turns, shoko showing off the new lighters and lipsticks she’d bought followed by you presenting several tops that you’d probably never get the chance to wear given the fact you were always in uniform.

“why are we stuck so far away when those two are just sleeping?” gojo rudely interrupted your little haul from where he and geto sat. shoko laughed, grabbing the camera to point at the two who were sat facing away two rows down. the train was pretty busy so they’d been lucky to grab the table. gojo and geto were left to fend for themselves.

gojo was peering down the isle, a pout on his lips whilst geto knelt on his chair and held his hands up pleadingly for… you two to kick your two sleeping juniors out of their peaceful seats so they can disturb your peace? there was no way that was happening.

“they’re not allowed on the adult table because they almost got us kicked out of the restaurant,” shoko explained with a tut and you oh-so-solemnly shook your head in disappointment.

the white haired sorcerer rested his head back against the chair, rubbing his brow in a frustrated manner, “the old lady started it.”

geto placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, waving a middle finger to the camera with the other. “don’t waste your breath, satoru. they probably paid her to trip over your chair.”you and shoko glanced at each other with knowing grins before both of you started mimicking two people kissing with your hands, "mwah mwah mwah, and they're both boys."

a/n. will there be subsequent parts to this? yes most definitely. this is not proofread and very messy so if you made it the whole way ty and I hoped you enjoyed this <33333 this might be my most favourite thing to write so far

[sqtorux]

where our blue is

3 years of gojo's blue spring with his best friends and ... you. basically hidden inventory arc with you in it.

it's 2005 and satoru had met you for the first time. you'd heard of him, the strongest. you weren't particularly excited to meet him however that was all for naught when another classmate came along. suguru.

you quickly got close to suguru and he got along with satoru meaning you also got to hang out with satoru. over time though, the three of you became inseparable. satoru's demeanor changed from a stuck up brat to a goofy one. still a brat nonetheless.

somewhere along the way satoru developed feelings for you. he wasn't sure if it's because he was impressed by your technique and perseverance or because everytime you laugh the world suddenly becomes a better place.

he thinks you're very pretty. the way you'd scowl at his jokes, or the way you'd scold him when he got too arrogant or the way you could see through the strong front he put up, like the person he truly was, he loved you. every part of you. he'd die before he'd tell you that though.

“arcade lets go” you felt satoru’s strong arm over your shoulder as suguru trailed behind chuckling at the very obvious display of affection only he seemed to catch on.

“get lost im going shopping with shoko today” you shove him off as satoru clenched his heart dramatically. “oh come on i need my cheerleader!” he quickly rushed to stand in front of you blocking your way.

“no. even if i were to come i wouldn't be on your side” you roll your eyes at him, he only pouted. “why don't you and shoko meet us at the arcade later? we have a mission first anyway” suguru chimed in.

“get him get him!”

“hah you lost!” satoru pointed as he laughed diabolically, throwing a high five at shoko.

as a punishment for losing, “try a smoke” shoko suggested suguru hoping to catch him lacking and choke on it but suguru managed to do it elegantly. as he does everything.

“hm for you, buy me dinner. all i can eat” satoru said triumphantly. and oh it was a punishment alright. “hell no, you inhale food i’m broke” you only scowl at him annoyingly.

“no this is your punishment, you can't refuse” he rests his elbow on top of your head. “annoying ass” you grumble at which he only chuckled.

all you got him was an onigiri and a can of coke from a vending machine. you ran away before he could protest. little did you know though, satoru wanted to have dinner with you alone, as a friendly date between two friends of course.

—

it's 2006 and with the new first years in jjk high, it was more livelier than last year. all of you had gotten pretty close, you especially with a bright underclassman named haibara.

more often than not, you spent your time with haibara chatting away and fooling around which satoru did not seem amused at. not one bit. he'd get more cranky over you but being the oblivious fool you are, you couldn't tell why.

sitting under the shade of the big tree at a park the students frequent, you relaxed after a particularly hard mission. out of nowhere satoru came and sat next to you without a word.

you didn't mind his presence and sat in silence until you felt him tap your shoulder. when you turned however, his finger poked your cheeks and you glare at him menacingly which he laughed at.

“you alright?” he asked as you shook his hand away. “better when you weren't here.”

satoru scoffed “you're definitely okay. i bet you'd prefer it if haibara was here”.

“i do actually” satoru made a face at your words not liking the way you admitted it but he didn't try to move further away, only closer. closer to you.

he leaned in till he was just a breath away. was this it? if he were to take this risk all the way and possibly confess, would you accept him? or would that ruin the friendship he had with you?

as he took his time debating, you snatched his glasses and giggled. “im taking this thanks!” you stood up and ran. ah well, there go his chance.

“hey give that back!” he started chasing you. you ran as fast as you could but you stood no chance against his unnecessarily long legs as they strode over to you.

he grabbed you by your waist and held you in place as you panted, out of breath. him? not so much.

you hid his glasses behind your back but satoru couldn't care less. his heart was hammering against his chest just from the way he held you and how close you are to him. it's like the universe was shouting and telling him to tell you about his feelings. he should have listened.

“hey hey look. i’ll give this back to you if… you buy us ice cream” your voice snapped him out of his own silly thoughts.

“us?”

“mhm. ice creams for suguru, shoko, haibara and nanami. all on you.” you grinned cheekily.

as if in a daze, he nods as you smile triumphantly. you brought his glasses and put it on him. you had to admit, you were glad he had to wear those, his blue eyes were so easy to drown in.

that night, all the first and second years sat on top of the school rooftop watching the stars while eating the ice cream popsicle satoru had brought, only because you asked. life was good.

until it wasn't.

due to a leg injury you had battling a grade 2 curse, your missions were taken by the other students. although you were disappointed in yourself you knew it was the right thing to do. at least you had shoko who was always at the school for healing since she was capable of using the reverse cursed technique.

however things never looked up from there.

when you found suguru's almost lifeless slashed body on the school grounds, the world beneath your feet crumbled. shakily you dragged him out of the debris and took him to shoko. you couldn't even begin to think of what could have happened to satoru or where he could be.

a few days ago, they had left on their mission to defend the star plasma vessel in high spirits. you guys even talked about having a school trip soon after they'd return but none of that seemed plausible now.

as soon as suguru was healed he immediately went away again, mumbling something about getting satoru. you couldn't follow because your leg wasn't fully healed yet. you could only stay behind and pray nothing happens to any of your friends.

when they returned however satoru felt, different. he felt colder, more distant. his uniform was covered in blood. whose blood? you didn't want to find out. that night he just fell into your arms in defeat, still cold, still shivering but still your satoru regardless.

that wasn't the end however.

the following weeks, you had begun to notice how distant geto had become. you'd tried talking to him but he'd brush you off everytime until you eventually stopped trying, but still assuring him you were here if he ever wanted to talk.

satoru was away on missions more and more. your friendship was slowly dissipating as much as you hated to admit it but you understood it was none of your faults. things happen. or that was what you keep telling yourself.

and you yourself had started going on more and more riskier missions on your own after your leg had healed.

as if the surging amount of curses popping up and then getting stronger and stronger weren't enough, you received news that became your breaking point.

haibara. how could it be? he had left with nanami on a mission abroad from which only nanami returned alive. it was hard for you to accept his death. ever since then you started completely detaching from everyone.

“i can't do this anymore” geto mumbled. you just stare at the floor unmoving, unfeeling.

things only took into a worse turn when you found out geto had massacred a village. he'd return particularly late one night and when you asked why, he sighs. “i just killed hundreds of people y/n.”

“why?”

“you know why.”

—

it's 2007 and satoru had found himself crying, begging for you not to leave. after the stunt suguru pulled, he couldn't lose you too. not you. never you.

“suguru is doing this alone satoru” he'd heard your meek voice say.

“what about me?” his own voice was shaking, choking on his tears. it was pathetic but he couldn't care less.

seeing your hesitation he begged more.

“y/n what about me?” he cried.

the way you looked at him, the way your body froze in place it was working. you wouldn't leave him, you'd stay... until you wouldn't.

“im sorry. i don't see the point in staying”

“don't go talking like him!” he screamed. he stood there crying, afraid to take another step in case that pushes you even further away.

“i’ve made my decision. nothing you say or do can change it.” you turn around and walked away.

satoru was speechless. his world paused as everything around him became blurry.

the only clear thing his six eyes allowed him to see was your figure disappearing into the crowd.

i love you i love you i love you

toads on the tip of his tongue. if he'd said that, would you have stayed? this question still haunted him ten years later.

satoru woke up to find the blindfold wrapping his eyes dampening. he chuckled dryly as he stood up from his seat. he was at school apparently napping at an empty classroom.

coincidentally the same classroom he had spent his happiest years in, now bland and quiet.

his students megumi, yuji and nobara had walked inside, bringing life to the once empty room. the trio reminded him a lot of you, suguru and himself, his heart clenches.

“were you napping? don't fall asleep when you called us here” megumi said to him as the other two took turns to sit in his fancy chair he sat in a second ago.

he let out a non humourous chuckle as his memories haunted him.

“what are you laughing about?” megumi asked.

“nothing?” satoru quipped.

it was far from nothing. he missed his best friend and you. especially you.

he'd once told himself he'd die before ever telling you about his feelings for you. how ironic is it that you had to die first and how much did he regret not being strong enough to protect you despite being the strongest.

because what good is it being the strongest if he still isn't strong enough to protect the people he loved.

tried changing my layout this time hehe. the third year is my favourite my poor bby gojo :(((

[satowooo]

PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION

contents. fluff, light nsfw, crack.

“You're driving me wild, sweets.”

Satoru always loved it when you showered him affections, peppering his face with hundreds of kisses as you sit on his lap after a tiring day at the beach with your other friends. It was like a routine for the two of you, and you always show him that you're willing to indulge his needs whenever, and wherever, which means even if you two are at a beach house inside you're own private room, while you're other friends are outside to prepare dinner, Satoru makes sure he still gets what he wants.

“Is it a bad thing?” You asked, chuckling as you lifted his shirt up and discarded it down the floor. You leaned down, lips traveling down his collarbone, until it reached his sensitive nipple. You smirked, diving down and latching it between your lips, making him groan.

“No. Not at all.” His hands cupped the back of your neck, lips parted as he savored the feeling. You sucked one of his nipples, while your fingers flicked on the other one. “Fuck, babe– Keep doing that, y-yeah?”

“Where do you want my hickies, Satoru?” You smiled, grinning up at him.

His eyes dazed as he looked back at you, chest rising up and down heavily. His face was flushed with arousal, and he was turning red all over his body. “Everywhere, baby. Don't leave anything untouched.”

“Ooh, what's for dinner?” You asked as you sat down with Shoko, Suguru, Haibara, and Nanami at the table, your eyes feasting at the amount of food they'd cook.

Shoko smiled, setting a plate of shrimps. “Lots and lots of seafood— Jesus Christ, Satoru!”

Your eyes looked curiously at Shoko who had her brows furrowed, Haibara who suddenly choked on his drink while Nanami patted his back, and Suguru who had a smirk on his face. That's when you tilted your head back, gasping as Satoru parade around the room with no shirt on, leaving his skin filled with red and purple marks on full display. It was everywhere, his neck, throat, collarbone, chest, abs, and yeah... the reddened nipple of his, all because of you.

“What?” He asked innocently, taking a seat beside you.

“Someone was feeling a little naughty,” Suguru teased, eyes darting at the two of you. “Nice tits, Satoru.”

“Thanks. I think it's an art.”

You blushed furiously, swatting his hands away that was about to wrap its way on your waist. “Put a shirt on!”

The scene got Suguru and Shoko chuckling, while Haibara seemed to not be able to recover just yet as he too was blushing while Nanami had a palm on his forehead.

Well, let's just say, it was a bit embarrassing, but definitely something that everyone would laugh at as they would reminisce this moment. But Satoru definitely got a big scolding for pulling that stunt, and a big smack for staining Haibara's innocence.

[robogart]

Little Yusuke and Hiei piece back from last March! And a little drabble under the cut too :3c 💕

Yusuke’s calloused thumb rubbed away the blood from his cheek, another precious token of their latest spar.

The gentleness of the gesture made Hiei dizzy and he couldn’t help but stare at the closeness of Yusuke’s face, stitching in his wide grin, hair disheveled and damp with sweat. Laughter cackled out of him like thunder, spilling into the short distance between them as Hiei felt Yusuke’s fingers start to tangle into his hair. It made his chest heave and his breath suddenly became impossible to find. The feeling was…odd. Disturbing was what he first called it. Frustrating following soon after. But now it was…?

Hiei felt Yusuke’s fingers gently hold onto his other arm. The subtle dig of his index made the demon feel like he was losing grip. Yusuke was talking to him? Still half-laughing. What was he saying?

Hiei couldn’t parse any of the words, his brain too full of memorizing the Detective’s face and the steady awareness that his ears felt like they were burning from the thumb against them. His grip on Yusuke’s shirt tightened and his head felt heavy, slowly stooping forward. Hiei tried to gather some modicum of thought as another inch shrank between their noses, but any chance was cast away the moment Yusuke’s face rose to meet his.

[4kimji]

work wife - y.jm imagine

“Ji? You’re leaving already?”, you ask. Your wife looks beautiful going to work, all dressed up in her dark gray suit. She’s halfway towards the door before you call out to her.

“Yeah, I am. You need anything before I go?”, she asks. You run down the stairs in your fluffy, white socks and oversized shirt with your hands behind your back.

“You’re forgetting something..”, your gaze dancing all over her well-structured face. Out of nowhere, she brings your face into a heated kiss, massaging your cheeks with her nails. You guys stay in that position for a while before Jimin’s eyes wander onto her watch, realizing she’s about to be late. 

“Mmmph, Y/N, I would love to keep going but I gotta go.”, Jimin concluded, letting go of the kiss. Her left eyebrow raises after seeing your tomato red face. “You okay?”, your wife asks, before you remove your hands from behind your back, revealing her wallet. 

“I was gonna say you were forgetting this.”, You snorted quietly.

[skylumen]

don't think that i have moved on from puppy!iso... hes still rotting my brain

you'd barely been gone for a week, but Iso made it feel like a lifetime.

it started subtly, or so you'd heard from the other agents. he didn't say much at first, just a quiet question here and there, like "is y/n doing okay?" or a quick glance at his phone every time a notification pinged, hoping it's from you. but then, it escalated.

your room became his second home— no, scratch that— his sanctuary.

afternoons that were meant for hanging out with others? spent curled up on your bed, your clothes draped all over it. he wasn't shy about it either, grabbing your favourite hoodie from the closet and burying his face in it as he napped.

"he's like a dog guardin' its owner's den" clove had said over dinner one night, earning a sheepish glare from iso.

and the texts. oh, the texts.

"miss U"

"had a boring meeting today. if U were here it wouldve made it better"

"[link of a restaurant] wanna try this when Ur back? they have Ur favourite"

even though he knew you were busy, his messages came in steadily. short, sweet, and just enough to remind you of how much he missed you. the ones that got you the most, though, were the late-night facetime calls.

"want to see Ur face" he'd texted one night, and when you picked up, there he was— his ears drooping, tail wagging lazily behind him as he pouted into the camera.

"yuyu..." you said in awe, trying not to laugh at how pitiful he looked.

"what did you do today?" he asked, his voice small and soft, like he was afraid to interrupt your busy schedule.

"meetings, mostly," you replied, resting your chin in your palm. "enough about me. what about you? anything exciting?"

he shrugged, his face tilting away from the camera. "not really..."

"no missions?"

"i had one," he muttered, tail still wagging. "but it wasn't fun."

"not fun? what happened, did brim say something?"

"no..." he trailed off, then finally looked back to you, his eyes shining with an honesty that made your chest ache. "you weren't there."

the way he said, so matter-of-factly, knocked the wind out of you.

"yuyu..."

"it's true," he insisted. "everything's boring when you're not here."

you'd spent the rest of the night reassuring him, promising him over and over again that you'd be back soon. even though he nodded and smiled, you could still see the sadness and yearning in his eyes.

when you finally did return, it felt different. you barely had time to drop your bags before you heard your name.

"y/n!"

the next thing you knew, you were engulfed in warmth, strong arms pulling you close as iso buried his face in your neck.

"i missed you so much..." he murmured, his voice muffled.

before you could respond, clove's voice cut through the moment. "told ya he's been hangin' out in yer' room. 'twas a pain trying to get him to leave." they said, before letting out a sigh.

"clove!" iso whined, his tail swishing nervously behind him.

you laughed, wrapping your arms around him as he tried to hide his face. "care to explain, hm?"

"...no."

"zhao yu."

"...fine." he pulled back slightly, his cheeks flushed, ears twitching in embarassment. "your bed smells like you, okay? it... it makes it easier to sleep."

your heart melted at his honesty, and you couldn't resist pulling him close again, your fingers scratching lightly at the base of his ears. he let out a soft, contented hum, his tail wagging furiously behind him.

[crusty-chronicles]

Stubborn

Synopsis: In which our two favorite demons tend to and scold Reader for being careless during a fight. Separate drabbles btw

Kurama 🦊🦊🦊

The first thought that crosses his mind is one of anger. How dare that feeble demon even think to put it's hands on you. The next is that there's blood. So much blood seeping from the wound on your side. The decision of what to do is made without hesitation. He wasted no time rushing to your side. Lifting up your shirt slightly to heal the wound.

The others would take care of the fleeing demon. For now, his top priority was you. Making sure you'd be okay. But apparently that wasn't how you saw it. Pushing his hands away with the little strength you had.

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. You should go after that thing with the others,” you tried to sway.

As if your life wasn't more important.

Like he didn't cherish you more than anything.

His gaze hardened, maneuvering you on your back to get a proper look at your wound. Summoning his spirit energy in his palm and pressing it firmly against your side.

“You'd think of me so callous as to abandon my injured lover?” He questioned.

His accusation temporarily shocking you.

“No but-” ‘you shouldn't be wasting your time with me.’ you wanted to say. But you were cut off before you could finish.

“Then there's nothing more to discuss. When I'm finished, we'll go right back home. Yusuke and Kuwabara are more than capable of handling this by themselves.”

You once again shifted around, trying to get him to stop. The case came first. It should've come first. Not you. You were hurt, but wouldn't die from it. It was pointless wasting energy on something you could manage with on your own. Kurama shouldn't be focusing on you when there was still an important mission at hand.

He gave you a glare and that was all it took to have you stilling.

“Why must you insist on being difficult? Don't you know that I'll choose you every time? I'll always choose you over any fight, any mission, any person. No matter what, it's always you, so sit still and let me heal you.”

—------

Hiei ⚔️⚔️⚔️

Impulsive, impulsive, impulsive.

He sees red the second your body hits the floor and you struggle to get up. A dark crimson trailing down your forehead.

Damn whoever hurt you, and damn anybody who dared get in his way.

He quickly slays the one responsible for your injury. Not even giving them enough time to process what's happening before it's over. When that's taken care of, he makes his way over to you. Shooing the group of your friends away so he can inspect your injuries himself. Despite the protests from a certain troublesome reaper.

“Let me see.” It's more of an order than a request.

But instead of complying, you turn your head and try to stand. Trying your best not to make a big deal out of nothing. Only for Hiei to shove you back down.

“I'm okay. It's just a scratch.” You brushed off, but he wasn't convinced in the slightest. Moving to wipe off the blood from your forehead.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Don't. It doesn't hurt, so leave it. And anyways, you shouldn't have killed that guy. He needed to be brought in for questioning.”

Your words only further irritating the three eyed demon.

It seems you didn't quite understand the importance you held in his life.

He would have slayed thousands for even looking at you wrong. And here you were defending some cretin who'd committed an offense that was deserving of a fate worse than death. Sometimes he hated that human heart of yours.

“Shut up. You don't get to run your mouth after being so foolish.” He scolded. Moving to heal your injury with his spirit energy. He didn't do it often, but you were always a special case. You were special.

Yet you continued to try and avoid his help.

“I'm fine!”

“Argue any further and I'll put you to sleep myself. You think I care about some low life over you? You must have a concussion if you believe that.”

Then his next words were softer. For your ears only.

“Your life takes priority over anyone and everything, got that? You're mine, and any creature that dares lay a finger on you will have to deal with that consequence.”

----------------

[nanamineedstherapy]

💀 JJK MASTERLIST | CRACK, ANGST & UNHINGED CHAOS 💀

📌If you like corporate angst, questionable power dynamics, toxic love triangles, and men being menaces, congrats—you’re in the right place. 🖤💀

💌 ABOUT MY CATS 💌

🐾 My Cats with Flowers 👩‍💻 Angsty Nanago Glazers Community - A support group for those of us who believe Nanago makes more sense than Satosugu. Go argue with a wall.

🔥 HEADCANONS & UNSOLICITED OPINIONS 🔥

📜 JJK Controversial Opinion: The Anti-Sugar Baby Manifesto 📜 [Tumblr/Ao3]

👔 Nanami Kento - Swearing Headcanon 👔 [Tumblr]

📖 LONG FICS & SERIES 📖

🥂 Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage 🥂 [Tumblr/Ao3] - Ongoing

Nanami Kento x F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader x Gojo Satoru

📖 Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

🥩 Mouth to Meat 🥩 [Tumblr/Ao3] - Completed

Cannibal Yakuza Ryomen Sukuna x [Retracted] F!Reader

📖 Summary: Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him.

📚 To Love & To Ruin 📚 [Tumblr/Ao3] - Ongoing

Teacher!Geto Suguru Vs Nanago (Nanami Kento x Gojo Satoru)

📖 Summary: Suguru finds himself entangled in a web of his own making, unsure whether he’s trying to fix what he broke or just ruin what Gojo has built. Meanwhile, Nanako and Mimiko’s meddling could have consequences none of them are ready for. Also, Sukuna’s getting sealed in Shibuya!

😂 CRACK COCAINE ONE-SHOTS 😂

🐯 Ooga Booga Battle Royale 🐯 [Tumblr/Ao3]

F!Reader x Pre-Historic Neanderthal JJK daddies (Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Zenin Toji & Ryomen Sukuna)

📖 Summary: Prehistoric, period-accurate Neanderthal JJK daddies fighting over you? With grunts, rocks, & zero verbal communication? Say less.

🐈 Send Gojo? No. Send Nanami? Also No, But Less No. 🐈 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Tsukumo Yuki x F!Reader x Ieiri Shoko - Pre-established but Nanami Kento & Gojo Satoru are also here.

📖 Summary: In which Nanami gets emotionally & physically taxed, Gojo should never be left unsupervised, & Shoko, Yuki, & you hold an unholy amount of power over them both. or What if you, Shoko & Yuki, are in a poly relationship & somehow all your cycles sync? How much are we torturing Nanami???

🤰 Help! I'm a Woman & I Got My Two Male Boyfriends Pregnant 🤰 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader x Ryomen Sukuna

📖 Summary: You got Gojo Satoru & Ryomen Sukuna pregnant. Now they’re spiraling, thinking you’re going to leave them. Send Mother Mary.

🍗 The Gojo & Geto KFC Breakup: A Reenactment 🍗 [Tumblr/Ao3]

📖 Summary: The JJK gang reenacts the KFC breakup in their own deranged ways.

🌸 Fluffy Oneshots🌸

💋 Bubble Butt Problems 💋 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Nanami Kento X GN!Reader X Gojo Satoru

📖 Summary: Nanami Kento has a problem, you & your wandering hands!

🦇 Smudges & Giggles 🦇 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Trueform!Ryomen Sukuna x GN!VampireReader

📖 Summary: Vampire you comes home drunk to Ryomen Sukuna, who's trying his best to get the makeup off your face while you try to become a menace incarnate.

🍷 Sips of Solitude 🍷 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Nanami Kento x Gojo Satoru or lovingly Nanago/Gonana

📖 Summary: Satoru Gojo, the invincible sorcerer, faces an unexpected challenge on his birthday: loneliness. But when he ropes Nanami Kento into a night of drinking, things take a hilarious turn. From awkward sips to questionable drinks, watch Gojo navigate the perils of birthday surprises and hangovers, all while discovering the true meaning of friendship in the unlikeliest of places.

🖤 Angsty Oneshots 🖤

🔪 We had a taste & now we can't leave you 🔪 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader x Nanami Kento

📖 Summary: A night of reckless attraction leads to obsession as two dangerous men, Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento, refuse to let you go. What begins as a fleeting connection spirals into a dark, inescapable reality where freedom no longer exists.

🥶 Love, Death & Robots 🥶 [Tumblr/Ao3]

JJK Men x Home Appliances Edition

📖 Summary: Ryomen Sukuna = Double-door Fridge, Gojo Satoru = Condensor, Nanami Kento = Microwave, Fushiguru Toji = Dishwasher, Kashimo Hajime = Stovetop Burner, Geto Suguru = Ice Cream Maker, and Kenjaku = Blender.

🌼 His Chrysanthemums 🌼 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Widowed!Fushiguro Toji x GN!Reader

📖 Summary: Grief lingers like a shadow, following even the strongest hearts. Toji’s world was shattered, and though time moved forward, he remained anchored to the memory of what he’d lost. A new presence offers a chance to heal, but unseen and unheard, someone fights to return to him, defying the laws of life & death.

🌊 I lost you when I lost me 🌊 [Tumblr/Ao3]

📖 Summary: You never wanted to say it. You never wanted him to know. But when the truth comes out—when the realization hits—there’s no escaping the devastation that follows.

👁️ In Shadows of His Heart 👁️ Watching Megumi fall in love with someone else 👁️ [Tumblr/Ao3]

Fushiguro Megumi x Unrequited GN!Reader

📖 Summary: I watched him from the shadows, from across hallways and rooftops, through laughter and heartache. Over the years, Megumi Fushiguro became the center of a world he’d never know he created within me. My words stayed locked away, my feelings buried, while he found comfort in another’s arms. And still, I remain—close enough to share his silence, yet forever worlds apart from the piece of him I can never reach.

🤫 Silent Whispers 🤫 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Inumaki Toge x F!Reader

📖 Summary: Toge's speech may be limited, but his emotions are not. On his birthday, you both deepen a connection that is quiet yet unbreakable.

🚨 Through Tears & Determination 🚨 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Lovely Runner meets Nanami Kento

📖 Summary: Imagine being an obsessed Lovely Runner fangirl, but instead of saving your bias, you’re in Shibuya trying to keep Nanami alive. Good luck.

🔥 Smutty Oneshots 🔥

🤓 The Symphony of Spite 🤓 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Ryomen Sukuna x GN!Therapist Reader x Nanami Kento Crybaby!Gojo Satoru x ..... (he's after one of your manz)

📖 Summary: No summary. You can read at your own risk. Because I don't even know what a good summary for this would be. Also Crybaby!Gojo getting backshots from his Yandere. Toji, Hiromi, Shoko, Kusakabe, Ijichi, Ino, Suguru, & Haibara are also here for reasons. Comes with a chart to understand everything better.

💎 Velvet Sin & Clandestine Vows 💎 [Tumblr/Ao3]

Nanami Kento x Billionaire F!Reader (Also, Gojo Satoru is there)

📖 Summary: Nanami at a bougie party? Weird. Nanami getting dragged into a bathroom with a mysterious woman? Even weirder. Let the scandal begin.

📬 ASK BOX STATUS: OPEN 📬

💌 Requests are open! I love writing angst, dark content, & crack humor fluff. Feel free to send ideas or prompts!

🔥 Not yet good with smut, though, as I'm still new to this.

🚫 No incest or grooming requests, but murder & genocide? Fine. Hahahaha.

🦂 Tag yourself: Are you Nanami’s kazoo, Gojo’s corporate incompetence, or Haibara’s obsession?

🕷️ Tell me which fic made you lose brain cells in the best way.

🕸️ Argue with me about ships in the comments—I dare you.

🔗 WHERE TO FIND ME 🔗

📖 AO3: [Link]

📷 Insta: [Link]

🖤 Tumblr: You’re already here, babe.

All gifs have been from @xf4int. Please do check them out.

[mephisto-reporting]

In Those Little Things With Rafayel

Plot: You adapt and adjust your routines to make your fishie more comfortable, more loved. But little did fishie know that these things were what makes you indispensable to him. This request was the reason for this fic Pairing: Reader x Rafayel (can be MC or non MC) Note: Rafayel and reader are in a relationship. This is purely fluffy. If you want to be included in my taglist, please let me know in DMs, Comments or my inbox.

The art studio smelled faintly of turpentine and paint, a mingling of chaos and creation. Rafayel sat cross-legged on the floor, a canvas propped against his knee, his brush moving with a flourish as streaks of fiery orange and deep indigo merged into a seascape that looked more like a dream than reality. He hummed a low tune to himself, though it faltered as you set a mug of coffee—exactly how he liked it—on the small table by his side.

He didn’t acknowledge you at first, too focused on his painting, but the slight tilt of his head told you he knew you were there.

“You’re predictable, you know,” he said after a moment, his voice dripping with his usual teasing tone. “Let me guess. Coffee, my way?”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, crossing your arms. “And yes. Two sugars, no cream. But I made sure it’s not too hot this time. You complained last time, remember?”

He glanced at you then, his dual-toned eyes catching the light, a spark of amusement dancing in their depths. “Oh, so you do listen. How charming.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t miss the faint blush that dusted his cheeks. You sat a few feet away, cross-legged on the floor, a book in your lap as you stole glances at him. It had become your routine to quietly occupy yourself while he painted. You knew better than to disturb him when he was in the middle of a creative streak, but you also knew he liked having you nearby. There was something grounding about your presence, something that softened the sharp edges of his usually aloof demeanor.

“Do you ever get tired of just sitting there?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. He didn’t look at you, but the faintest smile played at the corner of his lips.

“Do you ever get tired of painting the same thing over and over again?” you shot back, smirking.

“Touché.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder at you. “But for the record, my work is timeless. Yours is… well, questionable at best.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh. “My ‘questionable’ work brought you snacks, didn’t it?” You gestured to the small plate of fruit and crackers you’d set beside him earlier.

“Hmph,” he muttered, grabbing a piece of fruit and popping it into his mouth. “Fine. I’ll allow it.”

This was how it always went—Rafayel’ s bratty attitude paired with your patience. Over time, you’d learned to see through his barbs and teases, recognizing the warmth he tried so hard to hide. It showed in the small things: how he never truly asked you to leave, how his brushstrokes slowed when he noticed you were watching, how he’d sigh dramatically but let you adjust the light in the studio so he wouldn’t strain his eyes.

And it wasn’t just in the studio. It was in everything you did. You couldn’t pinpoint the moment you’d started making small changes for him, but they had become second nature.

You remembered your last trip abroad. While you had picked up the usual trinkets and souvenirs, you’d gone out of your way to find something special for Rafayel—a small, intricately carved figurine of a Lemurian charm. When you’d handed it to him, his eyes had widened, and for a moment, he’d just stared at it in stunned silence.

“It’s nothing special.” you’d said, trying to downplay it. “I just thought you’d like it.”

He’d scoffed, his ears turning red. “Obviously. You have decent taste, cuite.”

When you’d brought him a rare shell from a coastal village a few months back, he’d stared at it in stunned silence for so long you thought you’d done something wrong.

“Where did you even find this?” he’d asked, holding the shell up to the light.

“I saw it in a shop and thought of you,” you’d replied casually, as though it hadn’t taken half a day of bargaining with a grumpy shopkeeper to convince him to part with it. Rafayel had turned away quickly, muttering something about you being “too much.” though you didn’t miss the way his fingers lingered on the shell, tracing its delicate patterns.

From that moment, it became a habit. Wherever you went, you’d return with something small but thoughtful—a book on ancient Lemurian myths, a sketchpad made from handmade paper, even a piece of driftwood that reminded you of one of his paintings. Each time, his reaction was the same: a scoff, a dramatic roll of his eyes, and a mumbled, “You’re insufferable.” But the way he carefully placed each gift on his shelf told you all you needed to know.

Then there was the time you cooked shellfish for him, even though you were allergic. You remembered how his jaw had dropped when you set the dish down in front of him.

“Are you insane?” he’d asked, staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You could die just touching this!”

“I’m not that fragile…” you’d replied, laughing at his exaggerated concern. “And I made something else for myself. Relax.”

“Relax?!” he repeated, his voice rising a pitch. “You’re literally risking your life just to feed me! This is madness!”

You’d only shrugged, brushing off his dramatics, but the way he devoured the meal told you he appreciated it more than he let on.

Then there were the major changes you made for him, for things he probably thought went unnoticed by you. Like how you moved your rental apartment from the third floor to the ground floor after you realized his fear of heights. He’d never said it outright, of course, but the way he avoided your balcony like the plague was a dead giveaway. He’d pretended not to notice at first, but one morning, as you sat together on the balcony with coffee, he’d murmured, “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know,” you’d said, smiling. “But I wanted to.”

He’d gone quiet after that, fiddling with his mug as a faint blush spread across his cheeks.

There were so many moments like these. You’d always make time for his galleries, no matter how busy you were, standing in the crowd with a proud smile as he presented his latest masterpiece. You’d memorized how he liked his coffee, how he sometimes liked snacks while he painted and other times didn’t, and how he’d pout if you didn’t let him go first during a game of Kitty Cards.

And then there was the way he indulged you too, even if he’d never admit it. He’d listen (mostly) patiently when you rambled about your hobbies, offering the occasional sarcastic comment but never actually telling you to stop. He’d pause his painting to help you carry something heavy or fix something in your apartment, grumbling all the while but never refusing.

You were different for him. He’d never say it outright, but you could see it in the way his teasing softened around you, in the way he let you see parts of himself he kept hidden from the rest of the world. To others, he was aloof, cunning, and untouchable. But with you, he was bratty, dramatic, flirty and—when he thought you weren’t looking—vulnerable.

But lately, you’d noticed something a little different.

It started with small, subtle things. Like the way he’d hang around you more often than usual, offering “advice” on your projects when he wasn’t even asked. He’d randomly appear by your side when you were reading, throwing his arm around your shoulder and acting as if he had better things to do—despite clearly not wanting to leave.

“You’re reading that again?” he’d scoff, his chin resting on your shoulder as he peeked at your book. “Couldn’t you pick something better?”

You’d grinned, nudging him off. “Says the man who stares at the same canvas for hours.”

The more you did for him, the more he found himself unable to ignore the fact that you were slowly but surely becoming indispensable to him. He’d always been used to taking care of things on his own, to relying on his own charm and wit to navigate the world. But you? You were different.

He never expected you to be the one to adjust your life to fit into his, but somehow, you’d managed to do just that. At first, he’d brushed it off, telling himself that it was nothing special. After all, it was just a few adjustments. Moving your apartment to the ground floor, bringing him snacks, going to every gallery opening without complaint. Nothing too remarkable, right?

But then it started happening more and more.

You stood in the doorway of your guest bedroom, surveying the space. You had cleared out the clutter, shifting furniture around to make room for his materials. The bare walls, once adorned with your own eclectic taste, now felt like a blank canvas for his work.

As you worked, you heard him outside the room. “Is this it?” Rafayel asked, peering in from the doorway, looking at the setup you had prepared for him. His eyes moved over the rearranged furniture, the large desk by the window, the extra shelf you had cleared for his materials.

You nodded, giving him a slight smile. "Thought it might make for a good workspace. I’m sure it’ll be cozy enough."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Cozy, huh? Well, as long as it’s functional, that’s all that matters.”

He stepped inside, glancing over the scattered papers and books you had placed neatly on the desk. “I’m starting to think you have a secret obsession with me. First, the little things, now this.” His voice was laced with teasing, but there was a certain warmth to it too. You didn’t respond, instead turning to gather the last of the supplies for him.

He caught your eye as you worked, his expression changing ever so slightly. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. But I guess I do appreciate it.” He offered you a quick, almost awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. Just, don’t expect me to start painting you any damn portraits or anything.”

You chuckled under your breath, watching as he turned toward the desk, already eyeing the pile of books you had set out for him. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you teased back.

The room felt less like a guest bedroom and more like a space that belonged to him now, the air thick with the scent of books and paint. It wasn’t exactly what you had imagined, but somehow, it felt right.

Even your habits started mimicking his. It wasn’t intentional at first. You had simply chosen a deep purple scarf to go with your outfit that day—an old piece you hadn’t worn in ages. As you checked yourself in the mirror, adjusting the soft fabric, you realized that you had unconsciously paired it with a sea-blue blouse and white pants.

When Rafayel arrived, you could almost see the flash of recognition in his eyes. He stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at you as if trying to piece something together.

"Is that...?" He trailed off, eyebrows knitting together in confusion before he smirked, that trademark playful gleam in his gaze. "Matching my colors now, are we?"

You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled out of you, adjusting the scarf once again. “I didn’t think it was a big deal,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly.

He crossed the threshold and came closer, eyeing the colors of your outfit. “No, it’s definitely intentional,” he teased. “Purple, white, sea blue... You’re starting to blend in with my aesthetic.”

You shot him a playful glance, shaking your head. “I didn’t realize you had such an ‘aesthetic.’”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “I’m a man of style. You should try to keep up.” His voice held that familiar mix of arrogance and amusement, but there was a subtle pride in the way he looked at you, the corner of his mouth twitching as if trying to hide something more genuine.

“Don’t get too excited,” you quipped, running a hand through your hair. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Sure, sure,” he muttered with a knowing grin, giving you one last scrutinizing look before turning away. “But I’ll admit it—seeing you in my colors isn’t half-bad.”

The comment made your heart flutter, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you simply smiled and shook your head, feeling a warmth spread in your chest.

And then there was your enthusiasm to learn Lemurian. You sat across from Rafayel, the soft hum of the evening filling the air as the warm glow of the lamp illuminated the pages of the text, he had given you earlier. You were holding the ancient Lemurian textbook with a certain amount of awe, the foreign symbols dancing across the pages in an almost hypnotic swirl.

"Okay, let’s try this one again," Rafayel said, his voice a little softer than usual, though you could still hear the playful edge beneath it. "You’ll need to pronounce the vowels differently. Remember— ‘a’ is ‘ah’, not ‘uh.’"

You squinted at the strange script, nodding with determination. “So… ‘Rala… rah’?” Your attempt was far from perfect, but you felt like you were getting somewhere.

Rafayel’s lips twitched at the sound, and you could see a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward; his arms folded across his chest as he tried to hide the soft amusement in his eyes. "Not bad," he teased lightly. "Though it’s more like… ‘Raaa-lah’… with emphasis, like you mean it. You sound like you're hesitating."

You let out a groan, embarrassed, but refused to give up. “This is harder than it looks! How did you learn it so quickly?”

He chuckled, leaning back and giving a shrug, his smile widening at your frustration. "I’ve had more practice, that’s all. I’ve been hearing it for as long as I can remember." His voice dropped just slightly, becoming more thoughtful. "It’s my native tongue, after all… though a dead one, unfortunately."

You furrowed your brow, half-sensing the weight behind his words. He’d been raised with this language, but you could tell there was something more to it than mere fluency.

Rafayel raised an eyebrow, his voice becoming teasing again. "You just need to relax. And don't rush it. Take your time."

You focused, clearing your throat. “Fine. Fine. Rala… rah…”

You could swear that this time there was a subtle blush creeping up his neck, though he quickly masked it with a grin. "Hmm… not bad, but you’re still not quite hitting the right tone," he said with an exaggerated sigh, though the teasing lilt in his voice betrayed his soft spot for you.

You couldn't help but smirk at his response. "Oh? And what's the right tone, then?"

Rafayel leaned in a little, his voice turning even softer as he spoke the word again, his accent almost melodic. "Rala… rah…" His lips curled in a smile that seemed both fond and slightly embarrassed.

For a moment, you just stared at him, surprised at how his voice seemed to change when speaking the words in his native tongue. There was something almost sacred about the way he spoke the syllables, and you could tell it was a part of him that wasn’t easily shared with just anyone.

“You sound…” you hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. “You sound different when you say it.”

He blinked at you, his smile fading just slightly before he leaned back and cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual confidence. "I’m just making sure you’re doing it right." But the blush on his face was undeniable now.

“Sure, sure,” you said teasingly, feeling a little triumphant. “You just don’t want me to butcher your precious language.”

Rafayel huffed and rolled his eyes, but you could tell that the teasing wasn’t entirely genuine. "Oh, please. As if you could ever butcher something so beautiful." His voice was a little more sincere than you expected, and you caught the wistfulness behind it, even though he tried to cover it up with his usual teasing demeanor.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him—trying so hard to maintain his usual bravado but failing to hide the warmth in his eyes. It was moments like these that made the lessons feel less about learning a language and more about getting to know him in ways you never expected.

“Well, I guess I’m improving,” you said lightly, trying to steer the conversation back to something playful.

He smirked, though there was a soft flush still lingering in his cheeks. “Yes, but you’re not getting away that easily. Try again, but this time, put some feeling into it.”

You mimicked his earlier attempt, this time adding a little more of the tone he was asking for. As soon as the words left your mouth, you saw his blush deepen, and his teasing smile waver.

"Now you’re just trying to make me blush, aren’t you?" he said, though his voice had softened with something almost tender. You caught a glimpse of something that looked like admiration—and embarrassment—flashing in his eyes before he quickly turned his gaze away.

You chuckled softly, enjoying the way the lessons had become more than just learning a language. They’d turned into something a little more... intimate, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for it. "Guess I’ll have to keep practicing then, huh? I can do so after work. I’ll put in a few hours for it."

You always made sure he had what he needed, even if it meant sacrificing your own comfort. His heart had raced, and he knew that something had shifted. The way he felt about you was no longer something he could hide behind his usual aloof exterior.

From that point on, his clinginess began to show in all sorts of subtle ways.

During your usual gallery visits, Rafayel would no longer keep his distance as much. He’d stand close to you, hovering near your side, his hand occasionally brushing against yours. He’d pretend it was by accident, but the way he lingered was all too obvious.

“You can’t leave me alone for a second, huh?” you teased one afternoon when you felt his hand settle on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd.

He scoffed, but his ears flushed pink, his eyes avoiding yours. “You’re just... distracting, okay? I can’t focus with you looking all... cute.”

“Cute?” you echoed, surprised by his admission.

He immediately turned away, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Forget I said that. You’re not cute. You’re—”

“Not cute at all?” you finished for him, amusement in your voice.

His response was a dramatic huff, a slight whine escaping him. “Fine. You’re perfect, okay? But stop distracting me. I have work to do.”

You chuckled, noting how tightly he kept his arm around you as you walked to the next room of paintings.

On your next business trip, he found himself waiting by the door when you got back from your trip. He’d pretended to be busy with something on his phone, but the moment you walked in, his usual playful demeanor slipped.

He couldn’t help himself. He’d gone up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close in a way that was unmistakably clingy. It wasn’t like him at all, but when you’d leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, he’d quickly turned his head and stolen a kiss on your lips instead, his heartbeat rapid.

“You’re late…” he muttered, his voice low and slightly sulky.

“I wasn’t even gone that long.” you teased, smiling as you pulled away, but his arms stayed firmly wrapped around you. He didn’t want to let you go.

“I missed you.” he said, his voice soft and surprisingly sincere for someone who usually wore such a careless mask.

You raised an eyebrow at him, noticing the slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Oh? You, the great Rafayel, missed little ol’ me?”

He let out a dramatic sigh, though the playful edge in his voice was gone. “Yes, yes, it’s terribly tragic. I’m just a lovesick fish now…” he teased, though the hint of vulnerability in his voice made it hard to believe he wasn’t speaking the truth. “Do you realize how long you’ve been gone?” he whined; his voice muffled against your shoulder. “It’s been forever. I almost went insane.”

You smirked, patting his back as if consoling a child. “I was only gone for a few days, Rafayel.”

“I don’t care. Days is as good as an eternity” he grumbled; his voice muffled against your shoulder.

And you realized, in that moment, that your small, quiet acts of affection for him had transformed into something more than either of you had anticipated.  You knew that you were just as much a part of his world as he was a part of yours.

When you looked up at him, a soft smile on your face, he’d finally admitted what he’d known for a while but couldn’t bring himself to voice:

“I think I might be in trouble.”

“In trouble?” you asked, your voice teasing but with a hint of curiosity. “With what?”

He sighed, his grip tightening slightly around you, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. “With you,” he murmured, barely above a whisper, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but... you make everything harder to ignore. I don’t know how to make sense of it, but I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

You blinked, processing the words that fell so freely from his lips. Rafayel—aloof, sarcastic, always in control—had just admitted to being unsure. And it wasn’t just about his work or his usual stubbornness; it was about you.

The realization hit him like a wave, crashing against his chest, and suddenly the studio didn’t feel like just a place of creation anymore. It was a place where something deeper was growing, something between you both that had been simmering under the surface for a while.

“I’m saying you’ve been on my mind,” Rafayel said, his tone half defensive, half earnest. “More than I’d like to admit. I’ve never been good at handling things like this, and I don’t really know what it means. I just know I don’t want to mess this up.”

His usual bravado was nowhere to be found, and what remained was the side of him that you rarely saw—the side that needed to let down his walls, if only for a moment.

You blinked again, processing his words, then a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Rafayel...” you started, as if tasting the sound of his name in this context was something new. “You’re not messing anything up. I’ve been... I’ve been right here all along. And well,” you said softly, “if it makes you feel any better, I think I’m in the same kind of trouble.”

His gaze flickered to yours, and you could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He looked at you as if he was waiting for you to laugh, to dismiss it as some sort of joke. But you didn’t.

“I think I’m in trouble, too,” you repeated, your voice steady and sure. “Maybe even more than you.”

A beat passed, and Rafayel let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing for the first time since you’d walked through the door. The corners of his lips curled upward, that familiar, teasing smirk returning, but now it had a different kind of warmth to it.

“You’re not as good at hiding it as you think,” he said, his tone still playful but with a hint of affection. “You’re just as bad as I am.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess we’re both in over our heads then.”

“You’ve ruined me, you know that?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of something much heavier than just simple frustration. “I was fine before you came around, convinced I didn’t need anyone. But now? Now I can’t seem to get you out of my head. You’ve completely messed with my mind, and I can’t—” he paused, a low exhale escaping him. “I can’t imagine being without you anymore.”

He reached up, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers trembling ever so slightly against your skin. “And, honestly, I don’t think I want to. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Not that I need anyone else when you’re around.” His voice cracked just slightly as he admitted it, the weight of his words hanging heavily between you. You could hear the love in his tone, the longing, the quiet desperation he always tried to bury under layers of sarcasm and bravado. But now, in this moment, it was all laid bare, raw and unfiltered.

It wasn’t just his admission of vulnerability—it was the way he stood there, so completely bare and open in a way he never had before.

“Well,” you said with sincerity, “lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

"You don't have to say anything," he said, his voice hoarse, pulling you closer. "But just know that I’m ruined for anyone else. I don't want anyone else, and I don't ever want to let you go."

There was no teasing in his voice now. No sarcasm. Just the overwhelming sincerity of someone who had let their guard down, vulnerable and exposed. And for once, you could see him for what he truly was—entirely yours. And you? You were unapologetically his.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom

[verribagel]

Joongdok Random AU Ideas

Joongdok shenanigans

Colorblind

Imagine both kdj and yjh are red-green color blind and one day hsy tries to put bright red lipstick on kdj and he’s like

“BUT I DONT WANT BROWN LIPS” and everyone is just like

“wut?” And he gets really confused.

Then Ysa is like

“Dokja-ssi, the lipstick is red…” and kdj is like

“no it’s not” and jhw is like

“wait, are you colorblind?” And kdj is like “No?”

And then yjh walks in and is like

“what’s wrong?” Cause everyone is just silently pondering kdj’s color blindness. Then kdj says

“Yoo Junghyuk-ah, Han Sooyeong’s lipstick is brown right?” And yjh is like

“yeah?” And all of Kimcom (the name for kdj’s group) is internally like “OMFG THEY’RE BOTH COLORBLINDDDD”

Read more ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Squid and Sunfish

Once upon a time, there was a little squid. The squid had no purpose in life, so it just drifted along with the current.

Until one day, it came across a sunfish. Strange, thought the squid. Usually sunfish don’t come down this deep.

He asked the sunfish what it was doing in the deep ocean. To which the sunfish replied

“I’m looking for a companion.”

The squid was confused. The only one this deep for miles was him.

He looked the sunfish up and down. Surely this guy wasn’t looking for him?

“Well there’s nobody else here but me,” said the squid.

“That’s fine,” said the sunfish.

The squid blinked. Did this stupid sunfish really not get it? He was a loser with no life! Why would this guys want /him/ as a companion.

The sunfish noticed the squid’s distress.

“If you don’t want a companion, there’s nothing I can do,” He said flatly.

As the sunfish swan away, the squid felt an aching in its heart. He realized, he didn’t want the sunfish to leave!

“Wait,” said the squid. The sunfish stopped.

“If you really aren’t bothered, I’ll be your companion.”

The squid couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. Him someone’s companion? Really? The sunfish turned around and smirked.

That annoying way sunfish do. “Knew it.” He said. And from then on. They lived as companions.

The end.

Department story YJH

What if Joongdok AU where Yoo Junghyuk works at A department store and Kim Dokja comes in as a single dad who has to fix his door handle. Except he has no clue how and has no mechanical knowledge.

When Yjh saw a man walk in with a little girl holding his hand he thought--nothing of it. People bring their kids places all the time. But when the man seemingly walked through every isle in a lost manner for what felt like hours, Yjh thought it might be time to step in.

Usually he’d let one of his coworkers handle helping costumers since he-- hated when people went to department stores not knowing what they needed.

Alas, it was a busy day and all of the other employees were helping equally lost customers.

Yjh approached the man when he heard the little girl say

“daddy, why don’t you just ask for help?”--To which the man replied,

“don’t worry sweetie daddy knows what he’s doing…” and went back to looking at shelves that clearly didn’t house what he needed.

“Can I help you with anything?” Said Yjh almost startling the man.

He noticed the small girl staring at her father clearly--waiting to see his response.

“Ah, yes… well… could you point me in the direction of the doorknobs?” Said the man.

Yjh had to hold in his sigh. Only because he had seen the man pass the doorknobs twice in his search.

“Right this way.” He said in the most polite voice he could--muster. He lead the man a couple of isles down.

“Thank you.” Said the man gratefully.

Yjh simply nodded and went back to walking around.

20 minutes later he happened to walk by the isle again, and to his complete and utter shock, the man was still standing there. Yjh walked up--to the man and asked him what the problem was.

“Oh haha, it’s just that… I don’t seem to know what doorknob I need….” The man let out an embarrassed chuckle.

Yjh had just about had it with him. Really, the amount of stress this man was causing him was unnatural.

Yjh tried asking him which model he currently had or if he needed a knew one. The man said he just needed to fix his old one but beyond that he just pretended to ponder. Yjh asked if he had a picture of his old one to which the man said

“ohhhh that’s what I forgot!” At that--Yjh snapped.

He quickly offered to buy one of each kind of doorknob for the man and personally come to his house and instal the one he needed. The man simply seemed taken aback by the offer and the forwardness.

Of course, who wouldn’t with an offer like that. They exchanged--numbers and the man introduced himself as Kim Dokja. Once he finally left, Yjh’s shift was over.

Yjh realized this man had been in the store for a total of 2 hours. As well as that, he had only been looking for a doorknob. A DOORKNOB FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! Yjh took an angry shower and went straight to bed.

The next morning he went into work and after his shift bought exactly what he said he would. When his coworker Hsy asked what he was doing he ranted about the situation to her.

“Wow, you’re down bad” she joked to which Yjh replied to by walking--to his car and driving away.

He texted Kdj and got his address. When he arrived he rang the doorbell. For a while nobody answered. He was getting annoyed because Kdj had told him he was home over text. Then he heard a door open from the back and the sound of rickety wood.

He-turned towards the sound to see Kdj with a tree beach in his hair.

“Hey, sorry about that. The front doorknob is the one that’s broken so we can’t get in and out of it,” he explained.

Yjh felt a pang of pity for this poor man. Kdj gave him permission to forcefully pull-the door open to fix the knob. He did so without much of a struggle. When he saw the state the doorknob was in he wondered how Kdj could’ve let it get this bad.

He wondered how many times he had jammed the door in and out before it got so bad he just couldn’t anymore.

He fixed the doorknob, and when he went to leave Kdj stopped him.

“You know, you could stay and have dinner. It’s the least we can do for all the help you’ve given us.” He paused. “Even if it was out of spite,” he added.

Yjh’s ears went red. Had his reaction really been so obviously out--of frustration?

“You don’t have to though,” said Kdj when he saw Yjh’s hesitation. “No, I accept,” said Yjh curtly.

When he sat down and tried the food, safe to say, he was thoroughly disappointed. Along with knowing nothing of mechanics, he also could barely cook? Yjh’s pea-sized brain saw this as an obvious cry for help and he offered to cook for Kdj every weekend. Kdj at first said know but Yjh was very adamant about it.

Finally Kdj agreed out of the guise that he wanted his daughter Byoo to have better food. In reality he was touched that Yjh-would want to help so bad.

Fast forward a couple months and Yjh asks Kdj to go out.

Somehow, unknown to even Yjh himself, he had fallen for the man who he had met lost in a department store. Kdj agreed and they became boyfriends.

End

Shoe on the other foot

Joongdok Idea that Kdj has really Small feet and Yjh has normal/large feet and as a scenario penalty they have to swap shoes.

So while they’re fighting Kdj has to deal with big boots that keep slipping off and he keeps tripping and falling.

And on the other hand Yjh can’t feel his toes but at the same time is in constant pain.

Not to mention Kdj wears dress shoes so Yjh is having even more fun.

By the end of it Yjh just gets tired of Kdj faking so he just Carries him.

Pillows

What if Joongdok crack au where Kdj keeps buying decorative pillows and Yjh is losing his sitting spots

Yjh tries to sit on the couch but falls to the ground because there’s too many pillows on the couch.

Kdj: oh sorry let me move those^^

He throws them on an already humongous pile of other decorative pillows.

Yjh: why do you need so many??

Kdj: They make the house look nice

Yjh takes a look around the room and there’s piles and piles of pillows everywhere.

He gives Kdj a look of exasperation.

Kdj: well maybe we can put some in storage?

(I imagine this is on some kind of reality tv show and there’s a camera)

The camera cuts to Yjh gesturing violently to the tons of pillows in storage already.

Kdj: huh…

Then the scene switches to their bedroom and Yjh’s side of the bed is covered in pillows.

The camera cuts to one of those interview scenes

Yjh: I have 10% bed space left… I did the math

By the end of it they get Kdj help and he agrees to get rid of most of the pillows, begrudgingly. And Yjh can finally sit in his own house again.

The end scene is Yjh sitting in a couch and just smiling.

Pizza Hut vs Domnioes

Pizza Hut vs Domino’s but make it Joongdok

Also hsy is sys sister cause I need an adult

When lgy and sys decided to make the Domino’s and Pizza Hut in their local town call each other, they weren’t expecting it to blow up this much.

Or even in fact, kickstart a relationship It started as any other harmless little prank by kids would.

They grabbed two phones and had dialed the the two stores on them.

They snickered uncontrollably as the phones rang.

“Shhhhh- haha, shhhhhhhh” said lgy trying to contain his laughter.

“I know, I know,” sys was having an even harder time.

Brrrrr brrrrr brrrr.

“Hello? This is Pizza Hut what can I do for you?”

And

“Hello this is Dominos, what would you like”

Two men’s voices could be heard from the phones.

“What?” They both said in unison.

“This is dominos, you wanted to order a pizza?” Said the deeper gruffer voice.

“If I ordered something from you it definitely wouldn’t be pizza, heck, I’d be weary of a soda from you guys!” Said the other voice.

The other phone went silent. Then,

“Well that’s too bad cause that means you’re stuck with the stuff you people make… yeesh.”The other voice let out an obviously exaggerated gasp.

“How dare you? You know what, where’s your store??”

“123 west rd, and what’s /yours/“

Sys and lgy were dying laughing at this point, they had to go to the corner of the room.

“246 North st!” The other voice said harshly.

“You know what?” It continued, “meet me at 135 south blvd, I dare you!”

“We’ll get ready to be defeated!” Announced the other.

Then both calls hung up. Sys and lgy were silent for a momen before running into the other room.

“HSY!! CAN YOU DRIVE US TI 135 BLVD?? WE WANT TO SEE TWO GROWN MEN FIGHT!!” They said, in unison to the author who was trying to get her work done, now unsuccessfuly. Hsy looked at them seemingly to debate the pros and cons of granting their request.

However it wasn’t long before she gave in to her need to see grown men being idiots and she found herself driving. When they got there the pulled into a parking lot.

Nobody was there at first but then two men showed up.

One was a very plain looking man in a black button up and a Pizza Hut apron.

The other a very handsome man in a Dominos Apron.

“So you’re the apparently handsome man who thinks Domino’s sells pizza!” Shouted the plain looking one from about 20 ft away from the other.

“What do you mean, ‘sells pizza’ THATS WHAT WERE KNOWN FOR!” Bellowed the other from the same distance. “I wouldn’t call what you’re known for /pizza/!” The scrawny man taunted.

The handsomer man opened his mouth to reply but then paused.

“You- wait did you call me handsome earlier?” He asked befuddled.

The latter’s face went beet red. “W-well, yeah! Who wouldn’t,” he stuttered.”

The taller man seemed the think for a moment before stating,

“If you come to Domino’s we… /I/ could treat you a lot better than those guys at Pizza Hut.”

The other man seemed to short circuit for a moment. “B-but nobody out pizzas the Hut!” He said in a last ditch attempt to save his already fleeting dignity.

“Bet,” responded the other who then smirked devilishly.

Meanwhile lgy and sys were fighting over the left back window of the car for better view than the other. Hsy was simply enjoying the scene from the driver’s seat. They had their windows cracked slightly as to hear what was being said.

“10 bucks says they go out,” announced Hsy suddenly.

“I’ll take that bet! No way they’d go out!” Said Lgy. “Yeah! If you heard them on the phones you’d know!” Boasted Sys.

“We’ll just see,” mused Hsy.

Meanwhile in the parking lot, the men were at a standstill.

“What’s your name?” Said the skinnier man.

“Yjh, and yours?”

“Kdj”

“Well Kdj, you wanna come to the better pizza store and earn a date with me?” Said Yjh confidently.

Kdj let out a small “sure” and walked away.

Unfortunately he was so far away Yjh didn’t hear him.

“Well?!” He shouted

“I SAID SURE!” Kdj shouted back.

“GREAT! SEE YOU AT THE DOMINO’S BUILDING THIS SATURDAY”

“SEE YOU THEN!”

And just like that Lgy and Sys had orchestrated one of the best and most entertaining events of their little town.

[thechaoticplayer]

ALRIGHT I JUST WATCHED THE KRISISIS HARDCORE MINECRAFT STREAM AND

homie nap but it’s not really a homie nap and they just fuck the reader instead <3 no way they can put their beds together like that and expect me to be normal about it

Author's note: the first time I fucking saw the three beds together I was like "ah yes one big bed very normal" and then I get this and I'm like 😨😨 WHY HAVENT I THOUGHT OF THAT- I've never written something like this before so expect me to just suck- It turned out a lot shorter than expected and I apologize 🙏 Summary: what was supposed to be homie nap turned not into a homie nap 😰 will you survive I dont even know fam Contains: FILTH... SMUT... THREE BIG GUYS! THEY GRAB ON MY THIGHS-

Listen, you weren't purposely trying to seduce them. Four damn beds pushed together in one room, squished between Zali and Vanta. These men were big (not that way, but you definitely found out) and took up so much space, you wriggled around a lot.

Then you decided to make a "joke". "Hey, what if we just fucked in this bed instead? I'm not even tired because you big dicks are taking up most of it and its impossible to sleep now," you joke.

Wilson sits up to stare at you. Vanta and Zali prop themselves up on their elbows and there was some sort of silent communication that you didn't hear.

Now, you're on your back, tears streaming down your face as Vanta bullies his way into you, walls stretching to accommodate his large girth. Your legs over his shoulders and hitting that spot just right as Wilson plays with your clit, shushing you and murmuring praises in your ear. Zali is literally french kissing your tits right now, leaving red and purple marks and popping your nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, and all this pleasure you are feeling makes you see stars.

"Doing so well for us," Zali mumbles, kissing your jaw as you whimper.

"Shit, you feel so good," Vanta growls, hips stuttering as you both near your climax. Your moans get louder and both the healer and hitmen get harder by the second.

"Vanta Vanta," Wilson quickly says, tapping the soldier's shoulder.

Vanta slows his pace and you whine, so close to your climax only to be taken away from you just like that. "What is it?"

"Pull out for a second."

"Wha-"

"I wanna do something, okay?"

They stare at each other for a moment. Ah, another meeting you weren't invited to. Vanta smirks, dragging his cock out slowly and you feel empty. He moves to the side and watches Wilson go straight in between your thighs, eyes twinkling with excitement.

"W-Wilson, what are yo-" a moan cuts you off as Wilson begins eating you out like there was no tomorrow.

"Mm, perfect," Zali purrs, kissing your lips and swallowing your moans. "Doing such a good job, yes you are."

Wilson moans into your pussy, vibrations sending sparks up your spine as you shove his face deeper into you. His tongue laps greedily at your clit, collecting your juices and prodding at your sopping hole. You were close to climaxing, you could feel it coil and twist in your stomach.

"W-Wilson fuck, mm!"

"Looks like Wilson can eat pussy pretty good, huh? what a surprise," Vanta teases from side, pumping his cock up and down at the sight.

"Shut up Vanta," Wilson groans.

"Make her cum," Zali says with a innocent smile. "I want to overstimulated her, just a bit."

"Despicable." Zali laughs at the comment.

Your vision was going blurry and your mind could barely put together a coherent sentence. "W-wha?"

Zali presses a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry, mon amour, I'm going to make you feel really good."

You clamp around Wilson's tongue and cum hard, your whole body shaking from the orgasm. Wilson sits up, panting, with all sorts of fluid all over his face. Was it sweat? Drool? Cum? Who knows. But you definitely noticed a white stain on his pants.

Zali instantly flips you over on your fours, hand pressing against your abdomen. "Look at this magnificent work of art..." he mumbles and it makes your cheeks flame. He slides his cock between your folds, collecting your wetness before gently making his way into you.

Full again, but overstimulated as shit, you whine loudly, trying to get away. But Zali's hands hold you against him, rocking into your body that made you moan. Vanta sits right in front of you, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"Since Wilson already came and Zali is in the process of it, why don't you suck me off while your at it?"

With a drawn-out moan, you lean down and kitten lick his tip, too impatient to lick every single part, you put his cock in your mouth. He groans at the sensation, bucking up a bit and making even more tears flood your eyes. Not only are you getting it from the back, but the front as well. Vanta face-fucks you, grunting and saying how fucking great your mouth feels.

Zali's shaky breaths tickle your ears as you clamp around his cock. You felt like heaven to him and he wanted you to feel the same. he quickens his pace, skin slapping skin and you moan around Vanta's dick. Wilson's hand went back in between your thighs, the overstimulation too much as you whimper loudly.

"Just a little longer, sweetheart," Wilson mumbles. And just as he says that, Zali unloads himself in you, hair framing his face as he panted.

However, you were still sucking Vanta's girth, his fingers tangled in your hair as you bob up and down. Vanta chuckles at the sight, admiring your pretty face going down on him like that. It gets him close to the edge, and he finally releases, a salty taste in your mouth. You swallow before he says anything, which makes him smile from ear-to-ear.

"Hey Wilson, you haven't gotten to be inside her yet, right?"

The hitman shakes his head.

"Wanna turn?"

You are definitely not going to be able to walk on your own for a while.

[mingsolo]

FREAKDAY — night version ⋆.˚

christian yu x reader (gn) / genre: vampire au, suggestive / warnings: blood mentions, bitting flesh, hint at oral, wc: 273 / r: 18+

< THIRSTDAY [m.list] SEXDAY >

“Christian, come on, we’re very late,” 

You let out a loud sigh, seeing how the large vampire keeps biting the neck of what once was a young female maid. Christian wasn’t biting anymore, in fact, he was devouring the flesh of the dead girl ravenously.

“Christian, there’s more of that where we’re going” you repeat, leaning on the wooden door, arms crossed. The vampire grunts, taking a bite from the girl's neck, leaving her dry. 

“Such a killjoy,” he said, taking his handkerchief and cleaning the corners of his mouth, licking his fangs and teeth with his tongue teasingly, before walking past you.

“I won’t even ask what the poor girl did, but couldn’t you wait?” 

“Clearly not,” He turned on his heels, cornering you against the door. You chuckled, opening your arms and letting him slide his hands around your waist. “You denied me of a fuck before, I was, temperamental” he coos into your ear and licks your earlobe.

“We need to be at your brother’s castle by midnight, and there’s a corpse laying right there…” 

“I’m the king, he will wait,” he grabbed your ass, making you buck your hips so your center was facing his. “And remember I can read your thoughts...”

In a blink, you could feel how he lifted you, as if you were light as a feather, and you were now outside in the nearby forest, deep between the trees, the misty leaves under your feet cracking.  Christian pushed you against the oak tree, lowering down on you, dragging your bottom clothes impatiently.  “Can’t promise I'll make it quick though, you owe me.” 

@mingsolo. please do not repost/translate to other sites.

[intheticklecloset]

TickleTober Day #28: Vampire

Yu and Mika (Seraph of the End)

~~~

“You need to drink.”

“No.”

“Mika—”

“No.”

Yu sighed. It was always like this with his best friend, his brother. Mika hated being a vampire, and Yu hated that for him, but the fact of the matter was that he needed to drink blood to survive. If he didn’t he’d become a mindless monster until he fed, and neither of them wanted that. They’d made an arrangement that was working just fine – when Mika wasn’t being stubborn.

He was always being stubborn.

“Mika,” Yu said in a gentler tone, glancing around. The others were busy with other tasks at the moment, leaving them alone for one blissful second of time. “No one’s even watching. They don’t mind anyway, which you know, but come on. Just do it. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“No.”

Yu rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me pull out the big guns.”

Mika finally glanced at him. “Guns? I thought you just carried a sword.”

The dark-haired boy smiled. His friend was so dense sometimes. Denser than he was, even, and that was saying something. “I mean, don’t make me threaten you.”

“With what? You can’t hurt me,” Mika scoffed.

Yu took a step forward and got right up in his space, making Mika tense up instinctively. “Drink.”

“No.”

Yu pulled down the collar of his jacket, exposing his neck. “Drink.”

Mika swallowed. “No.”

“Your funeral.”

At first, the vampire didn’t know what was happening. Yu moved quickly, and his hands were on his torso, and then an overwhelming feeling rose up in him, forcing bubbly giggles that he didn’t intend to let loose out into the space between them. He panicked for a split second before a memory from long before caught up with him, and he began to squirm and push back.

“Yu!” he cried, trapped between his friend and the wall. “Nohohohoho!”

“Aha! I knew you were still ticklish!” Yu exclaimed, grinning victoriously as he dug his fingers into Mika’s ribs and sides. “I won’t stop until you drink!”

“Dohohohohon’t – Yu, stohohohohohohop it!” Mika slapped a hand over his mouth, mortified by the sounds coming out of him now. How long had it been since he’d smiled, let alone giggled?

“You know you want to~” Yu sang at him playfully, expertly keeping him pinned to the wall. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

Mika’s giggles rose in pitch – just when he thought he couldn’t be any more embarrassed. A hot blush rose to his cheeks and ears. “Yu, plehehehehehehease, stohohohohohop!”

Yu smirked at him. “Make me.”

The vampire giggled and squirmed for another few seconds before finally giving in and snatching Yu’s wrists away, flipping them around so his friend was against the wall as he sank his fangs into his neck. He hated how instantly relaxed he felt, how much stronger and faster and more powerful.

“See, now? Was that so hard?” Yu murmured, holding him close. “I guess I’ve found a surefire way to get you to stop being so stubborn about it in the future.”

Mika finished his business swiftly, then pulled back and grinned at Yu with a predatory gaze that would have scared any other human. “Careful, Yu. You think I don’t remember how ticklish you are, too?”

By the time the others caught up with them, Yu was a mess of hysterical laughter on the ground, and Mika had never looked happier.

[loserlvrss]

｡ ｡ 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒, 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 ( 유.𝐊𝐌 )─────베리베리

( 十一月 ). ──kangmin was there to remind you life is still beautiful 유강민 &fem!rea. ⟡ drabble, hurt-comfort warn. kiss, angst, ment. of mental health wc : 800HUN ++( 𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 )

노트 for ves i love our man

Safety was a concept that you’d grown unfamiliar with over the years. You missed being naive before the utility bills, the unstable worklife of a capilatistic society and withering friendships in it’s wake. You missed being able to see the people you used to call friends consistently, before the wave of bustling streets and days that went by too quickly came and swallowed you up. You used to think time wasn’t moving, but now all you could think about was how it was moving too fast; One to ten to thirteen to sixteen to eighteen to twenty and beyond. Too much, too fast. It gave you the spins.

Uncertainty was all you knew now, when you used to be so sure of yourself. Everything was always planned. You pride yourself on being prepared for every outcome, but even if you were on the right path, you could still get hit if you stopped moving. Now, however, through the mirror looking back at you, was a stranger who used to be so bright and full of life—Not synthetic green grass against a gray sky. It’s like you were a hollow shell, only able to feel when it was someone else doing the job for you. 

You were out of touch. You’d never felt so out of reach before. Disconnected from what used to give you joy—Who used to give you joy. 

Your whole world felt like you were on a nice beach somewhere warm looking at a bomb going off in the distance. Hopeless and helpless through the chaos, running through quicksand, tripping, and being swallowed by the following tsunami with eyes wide open. Frozen. Motionless. Overdosing on the adrenaline of fear.

But there was one place where all the screaming and carnage subsided…One place where you could take off all your armor and dance around like no one was watching hard enough to judge. Where you weren’t under the microscope to point out every flaw you had, but to count how many beauty marks were on your face, and trace the smile lines that made you human. The crease between your eyebrows reminded you of where you’ve been, and the gentle press of lips over it made you realize where you wanted to end up. 

Safety wasn’t something you could resite, and being uncomfortable was a familiar feeling, but it all subsided wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms. With him. Yoo Kangmin. The light of your messy life. 

Nothing mattered when it was just the two of you. 

Nothing mattered like it did when the sun was up, birds chirping on your windowsill. Nothing mattered like the coffee in your cup and the piles of notes you were too tired to organize the night before. Nothing mattered because at the end of the day, it should’ve been the little things. 

He was the clean corner of your depression room, the canned food that never went bad, the hands that covered your ears when the noise was too much. He was the certainty you could feel despite being numb. 

With him you weren’t scared to close your eyes. You could talk sunrise to sunset and not regret a word you’d said. Love was the strongest drug you never had to buy. And the easiest one you could get addicted to. 

His fingers threaded through the ends of your hair as you leaned back to his side, “What’s on your mind?”

“Honestly,” You started, silencing yourself in his everlasting presence, “you make everything okay.” 

He guffawed at your confession, “Really?” 

“Yeah,” You replied, “Thank you.” 

He pressed his lips to the top of your head, lingering long after he’d pulled back. “You make it all worth it, y/n. All the small, irrelevant things don’t seem like it when I’m with you.” 

You turned, lifting your head from off his shoulder. His eyes were so sincere it made you draw a blank. He was comfort within a person, the man designed down to a T for you. You never thought you’d get it, and now you’ll spend your whole life being grateful. 

“I love you a lot, Kangmin.” 

A grin spread across his face, yours mirroring it in an instant. “I love you more, stupid.” 

You rolled your eyes as he took your cheeks within his palms, pulling you down to him. Face to face. Your heart picked up a steady rhythm—One you hoped harmonized with his—Until he finally pressed his lips to yours, fitting almost too perfectly; In your life, mind, soul. 

You pulled back momentarily, “For the record, I’m not the stupid one…stupid.” He laughed in response, wrapping his arms around you as you got comfortable against his chest again. 

You were uncertain about most things, It’s true, but one thing was for sure, you saw him in your fate. 

© loserlvrss 2024 / 25. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱.

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