#and... the obsession. mostly the obsession part

[lizziesfirstwife]

YES!! Grace us with your masterpiece :P

Guardian Angel

jinu x fem!reader

warnings: hints of yearning, depressed themes, obsessed jinu?, clueless reader, use of Y/N, slow burnnn, suggestive language, not proof-read

word count: 3140

authors note: this is my first fic in a long time, so please bear with me as english isn’t my first language. have as much fun reading this as I had writing this! <3

preview to part 2

Jinu hated Sundays. 

Sunday was the one day of the week when most of the population made it comfortable at home, not putting a single foot outside. There was nothing wrong with it being Sunday itself. A few lone pedestrians stretched through the alleys of the metropolis, mostly nurses who had the bad luck of having to work on weekends and teen groups who used the calmness of the city to hang out undisturbed. 

Jinu hated Sundays more than anything.

They were quiet, forcing one to think about all the things that seemingly went wrong the past 6 days. He didn't want to think. A normal person would have used a free Sunday to meet up with their relatives, or spend a spa day in front of the TV. 

The deeper Jinu sank into his thoughts, the more dense and dark the clouds in the sky above him became. He wasn't human. He shouldn't think about whether it was worth getting up in the morning, if it was worth carrying on with the small flame of hope he managed to sustain all these centuries. 

Contrary to all religious and folklore beliefs, demons needed sleep. Jinu slept, but didn't dream. And he was glad. Because not even demons are immune to the ghosts of their past that haunt them. 

The road was clean, the puddles from last night's thunderstorm still deep in the ditch.  

He had swapped his usually colorful clothes for something dark. No colorful pants, no colorful shirt. It didn't seem right to him. He was lost in the small crowd of the city, blending in too well as if he were one of them. One of many aimless figures desperately seeking their meaning in life. 

Sunday was the day Jinu dreaded the most. Not just because it left him alone with his thoughts, but because of the people. Or rather the lack of them. 

Nobody went out on Sundays. Hardly anyone. Not even in this big city, where new gambling stores opened every day and small businesses had to close because the rents were too high. 

The people worked so much, that they spent the time they had left with their families. He wondered what it was like to come home to a warm meal, how it felt to spend time with people who expected nothing from you in return for their acceptance. He wanted to be accepted, deep down. But acceptance was a luxury. Tolerance was a prosperity that was easier to uphold, easier to manipulate. 

Sundays were the most unprofitable days for the soul hunters. Many stores closed on Sundays, almost no activity available for the lost souls of this city. 

And out in the vast emptiness of the city it was too dangerous to do what needed to be done. 

A warm light. Large white letters in cursive script.

✮⋆˙

Had the flour expired? The lettuce leaves looked strangely shriveled, didn't they? 

She had a feeling she would get fired soon because of the action with the cupcakes, but if not, her voluntary letter of resignation would be typed and sent away faster than she needed to get up in the morning. It was supposed to be a part-time job to finance her studies, a shitty minimum wage job as an untrained bakery employee. She had no idea how to even bake bread, because the last time she tried, she almost lost a tooth. 

But she knew how to get cinnamon buns out of the packaging, or how to make a sandwich with instructions. 

She loved Sundays. 

No one wanted to work on Sundays, which meant much-needed bonuses and an exceptionally quiet shift. Working in customer service was not for the light-hearted.

Yesterday, she tried a new hair styling cream that was supposed to have some kind of magical bonding system in it. Allegedly even Zoey from Huntix used it. Y/N was frustrated with her hair. Wearing it up every day for work and the heat from the dozen ovens didn’t help care for it. So she tried it out.

Only for her hair to end up in a low wispy bun this morning anyway. Work rules and such things. 

Y/N sighed. Luckily it was Sunday. That meant that after her shift ended, she could take home all the left over baked goods that didn’t sell that day. 

She wasn’t poor, she still had her parents sending her a bit of money every month. But she didn’t have a job yet. A real job, not this forced university funding job. A job which she could only apply to with her degree in archeology. 

Everyone has told her she wouldn’t find a job in the field, that only the far more experienced archaeologist experts would be getting booked on excavation sites.  Y/N sighed and dumped the weird smelling flour in the trash can under the front desk. 

She knew they were right. Surviving as an archeologist in South Korea was harder than in the USA or Europe, where she would’ve had better job prospects. 

Pulling out the chair behind the counter, she smiled as she sat on it, straightening her apron. She would find a way to get into an excavation. Do some internships, join a few archeological Facebook groups, and she would surely feel better. Fake it until you make it. 

The bell tinkled, announcing the arrival of a new customer.

✮⋆˙

The air in the small shop soured of cinnamon and sakura room refresher. Jinu scrunched his nose. 

He didn't know when he had pushed the door of the small bakery inwards, when exactly he had entered the small space. A few white wooden chairs stood in two corners of the store, accompanied by equally white round marble tables decorated with lacy white table cloths. Tulips that were starting to wilt, filled various vases in the small space. A warm lamp hanging from the ceiling, inviting dust so sit on it if not cleaned properly.

Demons did not have to eat human food. They could, but it didn’t make them survive. They had the burden of robbing people of their souls, their entire lives, who deserved it the least. People at their lowest point. Homeless people. Desperate teenagers who ran away from home at night because they had long since given up hope of a better life. Jinu wanted to feel sorry for them. On dark days, the only thing that kept him waking up from his dreary sleep was the small flame of hope he protected inside himself for all those years.

But what choice did he have, what choice but to take away the only thing they had left in their miserable lives?

A low hum interrupted the path of his wandering eyes, which scrutinized every detail of the bakery.

He turned around. He was used to people starting to scream, especially women, when they spotted him. When they saw the K-Pop star. When they saw the version of him that millions of people loved. Forced smile, clothes that no grown man would voluntarily wear, happiness basically tattooed on his face. These reactions soothed something inside him. 

On days when he wondered what it was like to be really liked by someone, or even loved... on those days it wasn't quite so bad to think about it. After all, he had fans who loved him, didn't he? Isn't that what counted? With every new fan, he reached thousands of others. One step closer to their goal. 

True love and affection, which did not have to be bought or hypocritized, did not exist. 

But she didn’t scream. She just sat there. He almost didn’t spot her sitting behind the counter, which displayed varieties of tuna sandwiches and some adequate looking baked goods. When she spotted him standing there all still, she quickly put her phone aside and stood up. 

Jinu wanted to chuckle. Now he knew where the sakura scent came from. 

Her hair was tied together behind her head, some fashion strands hanging down her temples. It curled slightly, maybe from the heat of the oven behind her. Maybe it was just her natural hair texture. 

Her lips moved, but he heard nothing. She smelled of cherry blossoms and cinnamon, looked as if the word unhappy was not part of her vocabulary. 

Her fingers touched her necklace, nails embellished with pink nail polish. He had never understood why women painted their nails when hardly anyone would pay attention to such things. 

His eyebrows furrowed. 

They looked beautiful.

"Do you need help?" 

His eyes snapped up.

✮⋆˙

Y/N didn’t believe in angels. 

She didn’t have a hard childhood growing up. She had two married parents and an annoying older sister that moved out from home years ago and barely texted her anymore. While most of her friend’s parents got divorced in high school or throughout college and university, her parents stayed together. Simply out of convenience, or out of love that still lingered in their hearts from all those years ago, Y/N wasn’t sure what it was that kept them together for this long. 

They were busy working all the time, her father an architect that traveled abroad often, and her mom a veterinary nurse. Their marriage worked, but as the years went on, Y/N felt more and more invisible to their love. Their affection barely was enough for themselves, and she as their youngest child became forgotten. When she was younger, she used to curse out the devil for making her parents so successful in life. She didn’t believe in angels or the tale of every person having a guardian angel, because if they really existed, they did a really bad job.

But as she looked up to the customer who entered the small shop, ready to recite her studied standard greeting, she froze. 

He was tall. The smell of rain emitted from him, most likely from wandering outside in the still damp streets. But he didn’t say anything, he just stared at her.

He looked at her like she had the answer to all of his life problems, as if she was a puzzle waiting to be solved. 

His eyes looked mesmerizing. A deep brown, almost black, looked back at her own eyes, captivating her in a trance she was unable to escape. Was this how sirens lured sailors into their deathly embrace?

But he didn’t look evil. He didn’t look like the type of man to hurt you, just to feel malicious. 

She tried to speak, but the words didn’t want to leave her mouth. Her fingers wandered to her necklace, touching the small gemstone pendant hanging on it. It was a nervous habit she picked up during exam phase in high school, her fingers playing with her jewelry as soon as she got the slightest bit anxious. 

She certainly wasn’t in high school anymore, and she definitely didn’t know why she was uneasy, why she suddenly felt conscious about her hair, the stains on her apron, or that she forgot to apply mascara this morning. 

Shaking her head, she forced her fingers to let go of her necklace and instead grip on the marble counter in front of her. 

“Do you need help?” 

The man seemed to snap out of his trance, and shook his head. 

“No, no- I mean yes.”

Y/N crooked her eyebrow and hummed. Out of customers talking to someone on the phone, placing their card on the card reader without telling her they want to pay by card, and customers that complained about the prices, the ones who were unsure what to get were her favorite. 

“Any idea of what you want to get today? A sweet treat or a hearty snack?”

He shook his head. Jinu wasn’t prepared to talk to anyone, less a woman who he didn’t know why his words suddenly turned to thin air when looking at. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the displace of products behind the glass. He was a charming, young superstar, who never had to try to get humans to like him. They just did, annoyance and rejection foreign to him. He knew that that affection wasn’t real, but it was the best available for him at the moment. But this woman was blind to his charm it seemed, indifferent to his looks. 

Y/N wasn’t unfazed. She tried to appear that way, at the very least. Inside of her, she was screaming at how sinfully good he looked. She couldn’t afford to think that way about anyone. Love didn’t last, a curse doomed to dissolve under time. But God, if his eyes didn’t want her to jump into his arms, she didn’t know what do think anymore. 

Humming again, she tapped her foot against the wooden floor of the bakery. 

“Do you like it spicy?”

His head snapped up from where he was previously looking at, pupils widened.

“What?”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at his reaction. How couldn’t he understand this simple-

“Oh! No, no, not like that! Oh God-“

Jinu chuckled, her reaction making him feel slightly bad for his uncertainty of what to get. 

“Yeah, I like it spicy.”

Y/N looked at the man who was holding back a laugh, and furrowed her eyebrows.

“Are you making fun of me?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, crossing her arms. 

“No. I mean it. I like spicy food. I don’t look like a liar, do I?”

Y/N shook her head, sighing and pointing to the left side of the food display. She was getting underpaid, and she only got 4 hours of sleep. She didn’t want to argue with anyone, less this sinfully charming Korean Adonis. 

“We have chicken sandwiches with gochujang, grilled garaetteok, or plain chili filled rice balls.”

Jinu pretended to think about which option to choose, but in reality he was just using the time to look at her from underneath his eyelashes. He didn’t know what about her made him curious, it just…felt right to look at her.

He straightened up again and looked at her, really looked at her.

“What is your favorite?”

Truth was, Jinu didn’t know how any of these dishes tasted like. The last time he ate food for enjoyment reasons was 400 years ago, the taste of everything he once loved long forgotten in his trapped mind. He didn’t know how to cook either. His mother always cooked for him and his little sister, refusing to let him do anything besides working hard on his career. He shook his head. Laughter echoed inside his head, the smile of a woman he didn’t recognize haunting his mind. 

Y/N didn’t know what to answer to that. No one cared about her opinion, everyone just expecting her to wrap up their food and give them their change. She put a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head. 

“I don’t have one. I don’t like spicy food at all.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Then what made you think I would like it?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You look like the opposite of me. I don’t like spicy food, so I figured you might like it.”

Jinu looked her up and down. She was wearing faint pink colored jeans, a white blouse and over that her black work apron with a few stains on it. Her pink nails and jewelry only complemented her outfit. She was right.

While she was a star trying to shine, he was a meteor trying not to crash into earth. 

“So what do you like then?”

She pointed to a small brown baked sweet treat with white frosting on top, and dried honey in the shape of a heart draped on it. “This is the only thing in here I made myself. Everything else really is just ripped out of a plastic wrap and put into an oven.”

He nodded, not even looking at the other options. “I’ll take it then, your…” He squinted his eyes and looked down at the lettering in front of the item. “…cinnamon roll.”

Y/N smiled at that. She didn’t know what drew her to him. He looked strangely familiar to her, the level of familiar of someone you met in a dream you only dreamed once. 

She took a pair of tongs and placed the cinnamon roll in a brown paper bag. No one ever bought the cinnamon rolls, too special of a taste and too sweet for most people. That’s why she loved them, and the overwhelming taste of hope that came with them. Hope that she carried within her every day she came to work, every time she cried herself to sleep because of her dream job being unavailable to her. Every morning she would come to work early, just to bake the sweet treat over and over again, in hopes of not taking it home with her again like the last day and the day before that. They were the only thing in this store that she wasn’t happy to be able to take home on Sundays.  

She typed something in the screen of the cash register, the imagine for the cinnamon rolls popping up, and selected it. 

“That would make 7000 won (5$). Cash or card?”

He reached into his back pocket, and placed a crisp ten-thousand won note on the counter.

She was already typing it in the register, when he took his bag from the countertop and just shook his head. 

“Keep the change.” He opened the bag and took a bite out of the roll, eyes widening briefly before looking at her. “It’s worth the money.”

With that, he turned around and exited the store, leaving behind a baffled young lady and way too much change.

Y/N looked down at the note and put it into the till. She took out the change, and carefully dropped it into the tip jar on top of the counter. Employees weren’t allowed to take the tips customers gave them home, instead having to put them in the tip jar to be divided under all employees every week. But since it was Sunday and she would be closing the shop, the jar was all hers.

She dropped on her chair she was sitting on earlier, her arms hanging still beside her. Her head felt like a void, empty and shouting simultaneously. 

The strange feeling inside of her lingered, the premonition of this not being the first time they met. Her mind couldn’t put a finger on where she could possibly know him from, and it killed her. 

She shook her head, and wet a rag before wiping down the countertop. 

She didn’t know he was watching her. 

She didn't know that he now had his eye on her.

Y/N didn’t believe in angels, especially not in guardian angels. 

She just didn't know yet, that she now had her very own, very special, guardian.

𓍯𓂃ᥫ᭡.

Thank you for reading! If you liked reading this little piece of fiction in any sense, I would be more than happy about a like, reblog, or a comment! I absolutely love this movie, and it’s a shame how they ended it. But I’m sure we will get a second part, with the way the last scene teased it. <3

Comment if you would like to be tagged in a potential part 2! Requests for this movie are open ۫ ꣑ৎ

Who wants a preview of part 2? Let me know here! .ᐟ>ᴗ<

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⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᰔ ୧₊���︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[bambiihee]

CLOSET CONFESSIONS ˒˒ 휴닝카이

⧼ 📎 ⧽ 一 pairing。 ⸝⸝ huening kai x fem!reader 𓄵 feat。beomgyu and yeonjun of tomorrow x together

genre。⋆ smut, porn with some plot, fluff, coworkers to lovers

warnings。⸝⸝ office au, coworker!kai, trapped in the closet, thunderstorms, sex in the dark, power outages, switch!kai, dirty talk, praise kink, love confessions, unprotected sex, cumshot, pull out method, breast play, handjob, monster cock!kai, mating press, missionary wc。6 . 5 k ╱ ⧼ 📋 ⧽ 一 to library。

author's notes。⸝⸝ a rewrite of an older kai fic on my old blog, holiday decorating! i rewrote it so it's readable all year around hehe~~ hope you all enjoy!! just a quick lil fic while i work on my longer wips <3 i proofread this super duper fast so please let me know if there's any mistakes!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ FEEDBACK 𓇼 REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

No one had ever bothered to warn you about how difficult it was to plan an office party. Maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity when it had been presented to you; though it was awfully in your nature as a corporate kiss-ass to accept any work-related project that was offered to you. In all honesty, you agreed mostly in blind hope of impressing the higher ups, but part of you felt obligated to help when the retirement party you were asked to plan was for the woman you were hired to replace. 

“I'm sure you’ll do great,” your boss, Yeonjun, had reassured you with a not-so-comforting pat on the back. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help!”

You were terrified to ask for help. You had only begun working at TXT Bank eight weeks ago, doing entry-level grunt work filing paperwork and filling out spreadsheets. You didn’t even know most of your coworker’s names yet, and you hardly felt comfortable approaching any of them to ask for help with a completely benefit-less side quest. It might just be the new employee paranoia eating at you, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they wouldn’t be interested in helping you even if you did reach out and ask. The retiring analyst seems to have been a pretty popular staple in the office with decades of work under her belt, and you were a far cry away from the life of the party. You were young, inexperienced, and far too shy for your own good; in the short two months you’ve been employed at the bank, not once have any of your peers even attempted to engage in conversation with you aside from letting you know what you were doing wrong. Yeonjun’s personal assistant, Beomgyu, was the only person in the bank you felt even remotely comfortable being around, having known him from when you were still studying accounting in college. He was the one who got you the position in the first place, and without his mentoring and his happy-go-lucky attitude, you were sure that you would have buckled under the pressure long before now.

It’s only natural that he’s the first person you run to. Yeonjun said that there were party supplies somewhere hidden in the office… but couldn’t tell you exactly where.

“You don’t want my help, believe me,” he laughs, swiveling around in his desk chair to face you. “I can’t decorate worth shit. Plus, Why don’t you go and ask Kai? He probably knows where everything is in this place. You and I both know he’ll say yes— hell, you could ask him to jump from the tenth floor and he’d do it. He’s obsessed with you.”

Playing quietly on Beomgyu’s computer was the early morning news, the strong voice of the weatherman drawing your brief attention. “Record-breaking storms are forecasted to hit the metropolitan area later this afternoon—”

“He’s not obsessed.” You retort weakly, rolling your eyes to counteract the immediate flush that rises on your cheeks. “He’s just a nice guy.”

“Sure, buying you coffee and lunch, following you around like a lost puppy, and offering to walk you to your car every night is just being nice.”

“I asked him to the first time! The parking garage gets so scary when it’s dark out…”

Huening Kai worked in the banks I.T. department, imprisoned down in the basement like tie-wearing goblins. Even then you saw him nearly every single day, the poor boy constantly running up and down the stairs whenever he was called; and everyone asked for Kai when they needed help, because he was just too sweet and polite to refuse. He was the only stranger to welcome you warmly when you first began, offering his unyielding assistance with a handsome crooked smile. He was a godsend those first few weeks, because the outdated software the bank still used went so far over your head it made you dizzy. You still haven’t gotten quite the hang of it, but that was probably because you found it extremely difficult to focus on what Kai was trying to teach you when he was leaning over your shoulder and murmuring in your ear so closely and intimately with that gentle voice of his. You only felt dizzier in his presence, so nothing he said ever stuck… though that worked just fine for you, because that meant you could keep asking for his help.

Beomgyu’s sworn up and down since your first day that Kai has a thing for you. You’re pretty sure he’s just that friendly and kind with everybody. 

As much as you hate it when Beomgyu’s right, Kai absolutely would help you out if you asked him to. You feel guilty for hogging up all of his time, as busy as he is even when he isn’t acting as everyone’s personal errand boy, but if Beomgyu won’t help you, he’s the only other person you’re willing to ask. When you see him again around noon, offering you half of his sandwich with bright eyes and that smile that never fails to give you butterflies, you ask him meekly if he’d be willing to help you find some supplies and decorations for the senior analyst’s retirement party. 

He accepts a little more enthusiastically than you anticipated he would. “There’s a storage closet in the basement that has some of the decorations we used for last year’s Christmas party. I can show it to you later if you’d like! It’ll have to be after everyone goes home, though. I’m technically not allowed to go rooting through storage.”

“There’s supposed to be a storm tonight,” you recall from the news earlier, “Maybe Yeonjun’ll let everyone go home early if it starts pouring. We could stay behind then?”

“Oh, that’s sneaky.” Kai giggles. “Sounds like a plan to me!”

Your heart raced the rest of the day. All you were doing was going through some old dusty decorations, so why were you getting butterflies as if Kai had asked you out on a date? It’s impossible to focus on any of your tasks, your eyes constantly darting between the clock and the gathering of grey clouds over the horizon. By three, the entire sky was taken over by them, dark and ominous, blocking out the sun and swathing the entire city in a foreboding darkness. A light sprinkling of rain at four quickly turns into a torrential downpour, raindrops pounding against the roof and the wind picking up until it’s shaking the windows. Yeonjun starts sending people home early at five, and by six the entire office was empty except for you and a few other hardworking stragglers. 

As much as it pains you to lie to your boss, it has to be done; when it’s your turn to be sent home, you tell Yeonjun that you have extra statements to go through that you want to be done with before you leave. You even make a show out of packing up your purse in front of him, going extra slow because Yeonjun always wanted to stay and chat. Thankfully, he leaves the office himself without much fuss, but only after reminding you twice to drive safely and jokingly warning you about getting out before the building collapses over your head. A little unfair for the poor security guards who had to stay overnight anyway, you think. 

“Of course, sir, thank you. Have a good night.” you reply to Yeonjun’s retreating back with a tight smile, praying to whatever deity would listen that you don’t look as guilty as you feel. 

Once you hear the front doors close shut behind him, you shoot up out of your desk and hightail it to the basement. You find Kai waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, grinning excitedly and waving with his bag slung over his shoulder. “It shouldn’t take us very long,” he says, turning and beckoning you with one of his large hands to follow him, “The closet’s pretty small. I want to get us both out of here before the storm gets even worse. Don’t like the thought of you driving in this weather as it is, but I also want to get you stuck in here all night waiting for it to blow over.”

You’re touched by his words, even if you wouldn’t really mind it if you ended up hunkered down in the basement with him overnight. He ushers you down a dimly lit hallway, long and narrow with identical little cubicle-like offices flanking both walls. Even with the offices empty, the cramped atmosphere made you feel tense and claustrophobic; something about the dark, empty windows and the uncanny silence gave you the creeps. Kai doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, however, hands in his pockets and his head held high as he leads you to the very end of the hallway, stopping at a scuffed, unmarked wooden door. A keypad affixed to the adjacent wall blinks brightly in the dark.

“Is this the storage closet you were talking about?” You ask, eyeing the door oddly. “It doesn’t look like a closet at all. Why’s it got a keypad?”

“It used to be a server room, I think. Long before I started working here. The old equipment is all still there.” Kai responds airily, plugging in the code for the keypad. “Now it’s just used to store stuff we don’t need. Only my department has access to it, though; expensive computers and whatnot. After last year’s Christmas party I helped put away everything, and I stored it all in here ‘cos I was too lazy to carry it to the attic.”

“We have an attic?”

“...Yes and no. There’s nothing up there that you want.” The keypad beeps and the little blinking red light turns green. Kai pulls the door open and gestures for you to step inside. 

There’s no windows in the old server room, you quickly realize; when the door swings shut behind the two of you, you’re plunged into complete blackness. You search blindly in the dark for the light switch, but Kai locates it with ease, switching it on with a soft click and flooding your senses with blinding fluorescent light. You have to blink hard a couple of times to adjust, your eyes squinting and watering as they slowly acclimate and take in your surroundings. Against each wall countless boxes are stacked up nearly to the ceiling, each one filled to the brim with dusty paperwork and ancient electronics, wires spilling over the sides. You spot a line of folding chairs leaned up against a filing cabinet, a ladder and an old printer. As Kai had mentioned earlier, numerous server racks filled up the room, abandoned and far too outdated to be of any use anymore. They were pushed aside like walls of a maze, creating a rough pathway through all of the junk just wide enough for you and Kai to stand shoulder to shoulder. You swallow down the lump in your throat and place your purse on an old desk, Kai copying you close behind. 

You can still hear the storm outside, even down here. The wind howls and whips around viciously, the rain sounding like a barrage of a thousand tiny bullets.

“There should be some stuff in the back,” Huening Kai murmurs, squeezing past you to make his way through the mountains of stuff. His chest brushes against your back as he moves past, and you can feel the firm planes of his pecs through the thin material of his button down shirt. “Tablecloths and ribbons and things. I’m pretty sure I hid them all back here so I wouldn’t get in trouble.”

You laugh airily, a little too distracted to pay much attention to what he was saying. “You? In trouble? I don’t think Yeonjun has the heart.”

Kai shrugs and breaks the tape seal on a random cardboard box, peering inside for a moment before shaking his head and placing it aside. “You’d be surprised. He’s still putting on a show for the new girl— you haven’t been around long enough to see what he’s really like. By the way, how are you liking it so far? Getting the hang of things?”

You should probably be looking around yourself, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the way the muscles in his back ripple through his shirt as he digs through boxes. “I, um. I’m still figuring it out, but I’m getting better. Thank you for your help, really— I appreciate it.”

The storm grows even louder outside, to the point that it’s beginning to frighten you. You don’t think you’ve ever heard of a building caving in from just a bad thunderstorm, but Yeonjun’s joke still rings in your ears; there’s a first for everything. 

If Kai notices that you haven’t moved away from the door, he doesn’t mention it. “You don’t need to thank me! I’m happy to help, really. Don’t be afraid to ask for help anytime you need it, Y/N. All you need to do is ask— you can always count on me.” He moves on to another box, still searching in vain for those decorations. “Who’s your favorite coworker? If you have one, I mean— ah, that’s a stupid question. It’s probably Beomgyu.”

Kai’s tone changes suddenly, from bright and friendly to something darker, something you couldn’t quite place. You’ve never seen Kai sound like that before, and it vanishes as fast as it came. He looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a smile, and you’re half convinced that you made it up. 

“What do you mean?” you prod, cocking your head. 

Kai’s silent for an awkward moment, seemingly weighing the question with a bite to the inside of his cheek and a quick aversion of his eyes. “Well, he’s your friend, right? From college. And I’ve heard that you spend time together outside of work, going out to bars and whatever. And, I mean… I see you with him every day, talking with him and laughing at his jokes. I thought you were together for a while, actually, with how he’s always looking at you. With his stupid perfect face and his stupid perfect hair—”

You’re not really sure how to process that. “Kai… actually, my favorite coworker is you. I thought it was obvious.”

His head spins around so fast you’re afraid it’s going to fly right off. His big brown eyes are wide in shock. “Wait, what?! Really?!”

“Yes, really.” you giggle. “I thought you knew that, silly. Beomgyu’s my friend and all, but he gets on my nerves all the time. Kind of like a kid brother, I guess. You’ve been just so sweet to me when nobody else really has, and you’ve made me feel so welcome… It really means a lot.”

Kai’s face turns an adorable shade of bright pink, from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh. Well. Um. Thank you, I—” he looks away sharply, lowering his head to study the boxes again. His long bangs fall to cover his eyes, shielding the emotions that swirled in their dark chocolate depths. “I’m glad you feel that way… I can’t seem to find any of these stupid decorations, I’m worried we’re not going to be able to make it out of here before the power goes—” 

Flicker.

Pop.

You’re plunged into complete and total darkness. 

“—out.”

Kai straightens up sharply, or at least you’re pretty sure he did— you can’t even see your hands inches from your face. You screw your eyes shut and you see no difference, blind to everything except the cacophonous howling of the wind. 

“Shit!” Kai curses, the first time you’ve ever heard him do so. “Hold on, I can get us out of here—”

There’s a loud crash to your right. Kai must have run into one of those server racks trying to find his way around; you can hear him cursing under his breath as he stumbles around blindly, shuffling back to you one careful step at a time. The banging and crashing gets closer and closer, until it’s far too close— you open your mouth to warn him, but Kai barrels right into you before you could get a word out. He nearly knocks you to the ground, but his outstretched arms catch you before you fall. One arm wraps itself around your waist and the other… grabs a fat fistful of your breast. 

“Sorry!” Kai yelps, and it seems he doesn’t even notice just exactly where his hands had ended up, his hands large and warm and squeezing your flesh a little too tightly. The heat from his skin seeps through the material of your blouse and bra and floods your senses, erupts a fire in your chest that rushes straight down between your legs. 

As unwelcome as the feeling is, you can’t fight it off.

“Um, Kai.” you stutter, biting your lip to keep your voice as unassuming as possible. “That’s… that’s my boob.”

Kai tears his hands away as if he were touching hot coals, and much to your dismay you find yourself instantly craving his touch again. “I’m so sorry!!” he repeats in a rush of jumbled words, his usually deep voice a couple octaves higher. You’re sure his handsome face is glowing crimson red, and distantly you wish that the lights were on so you could see it. “I–I, I didn’t mean to, I swear!” 

“I know you didn’t, don’t worry,” you reassure him, reaching out yourself to help him right himself and walk past you to the door. You can hear him pressing buttons frantically on the keypad, but the device doesn’t beep or flash any lights. He curses again and slams his fist against the wall, the loud thud echoing throughout the quiet dark room. 

“We’re stuck in here.” Kai mutters to you in dismay. 

You blanche. “What do you mean we’re stuck in here?!”

“The door automatically locks itself when it closes and the keypad is the only thing that unlocks it… and it turned off when the power went out. It’s alright though! The backup generator should turn on any minute now!” 

The two of you stand around in silence for a long, extremely awkward moment. The backup generator does not turn on. 

“Okay, or not.” Kai gripes. “That’s fine. This is fine. We’ll get out of here somehow— here, let me turn on my phone’s flashlight—” 

He rummages around in his pockets noisily before making a triumphant little giggle; you anticipate seeing the little flashlight on his cellphone turn on and finally illuminate the all-encompassing dark, but the light never comes. 

“...And my phone’s dead. Great. Just great.” 

“You really need to get better about charging that thing.” You quip sarcastically. “How many times have you asked to borrow my charger? I only bring it now because I know you’ll need it.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t— wait, really? Just for me?” 

You don’t answer, your cheeks flaring up from the confession you didn’t mean to let slide. “My phone should still have a charge.” You tell him, an attempt to change the subject. “But I left it in my purse. I think I remember where I put it… let me try and grab it.” 

Carefully, you begin to shuffle your way towards the far right corner of the room, where you’re at least partially confident that the desk was. Kai follows you closely, his hands balancing on your shoulders to keep the both of you steady. It was a fine idea at first, when the two of you were making good headway, but you didn’t get very far at all before you’re once again losing your balance.

You barely manage a few short steps before one of your kitten heels catches on something rolling around on the ground; Kai must have knocked over a few boxes on his way over to you, little plastic bulbs that feel an awful lot like Christmas ornaments, the ones that Kai had put there when he wasn’t supposed to. You trip and stumble, but you probably could have caught yourself easily if it wasn’t for Kai’s big tall body tripping and stumbling right with you. The both of you come crashing down to the floor, your sharp gasp drowned out by Kai’s loud, girly shriek right into your ear. He squishes you against the cold linoleum, his chest pressed against your back and keeping you pinned down, hips flush against your ass. You try to wriggle free, but Kai is just too heavy, completely motionless and oddly silent as he breathes quick and hard against the back of your neck. “Oh my god, Huening Kai, you oaf, get off me!” you whine, attempting in vain to push yourself up onto your knees. The movement makes your hips swivel against Kai’s own, akin to a bucking horse trying to unseat its rider, and that’s when you feel it. 

Your pencil skirt has ridden up so high that your entire ass is exposed, covered up only by your underwear and pantyhose, and you can feel every inch of Kai’s hardening dick press up against you as if there were no clothes between the two of you at all. You can feel everything, the weight and the curve of it, slotted perfectly between your asscheeks like it belonged there. The way it twitches violently in his slacks when you gasp.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers quietly, his head buried in your shoulder, voice wobbly like he was going to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” It’s just then do you register his hands on your hips, touching you so intimately, steadfast in their movements rubbing up and down your ass and thighs despite the way he was shaking like a leaf. He’s never been this close before, his body so sculpted and masculine against you. His soft plump lips ghost over the exposed skin of your collarbone and wafts of his musky cologne cloud your senses. You shouldn’t do this, you should remain professional… but you’ve wanted Huening Kai more than you’ve ever wanted any other man, since you first laid eyes on him, and having him pressed up against you so helpless and vulnerable has destroyed your control and reason. All you can think about is that Kai wanted you too, and the proof was straining against the fly of his pants begging to be freed. 

You roll your hips back against him slowly, as if not to startle him— the broken moan that falls from those kissable lips is downright obscene, whiny and desperate, shooting hot sparks of pleasure down your body to your core. 

“A-ah, did you, um— Y-you didn’t mean to d-do that, right?” Kai murmurs in a small voice. His cock grows even harder against you. 

You can’t take it anymore; in Kai’s dazed state you manage to pull yourself up from underneath him and spin around to reach out wildly in his general direction. One of your fists manages to wrap around his tie, and with a sharp tug Kai’s lips come crashing down onto yours. His lips are soft and pillowy against your own, tasting a little sweet, like the tea with milk and honey he enjoys drinking while he works. His panting breath tickles your skin, his fingers coming up to card through your hair as you both open your mouths and breathe each other in. Your bodies press together heatedly, hands roaming everywhere you could reach, groping and pushing and pulling, desperate to get closer even if it was impossible. Kai’s other hand slides down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the plush flesh between his fingers. Swathed in all this darkness, it was easy to forget that you weren’t dreaming. 

You’ve never kissed or been kissed quite like this before. 

“Does that answer your question?” You giggle when you part for air. Kai pants hotly into your mouth like a thirsty dog before descending down upon you to recapture your lips himself. 

This kiss is even more heated than the last, Kai prying your lips apart to deepen the passion with his teeth and tongue. You wish you could see, could admire the sharp tic of his jaw as he kisses you, lose yourself in his beautiful brown eyes. Bear some witness to something you had been confident would never happen. You can feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, blood rushing in your ears to drown out the storm as you both fumble with each other's clothes. Kai’s hands move to cup your tits, squeezing harshly when you slide your hand down his chest and belly to catch on his belt buckle. It’s a hassle to unfasten in the dark, but you manage to tear both his belt and fly open and fish his hot throbbing cock out of his boxers. You wrap your hand around it, so fat your fingers barely connect— Kai lets out a strangled whine as you stroke up his shaft to thumb at his tip, thick globs of precum wetting your hand. 

Kai’s hands come back to your breasts, but this time on purpose; he gropes and squeezes greedily, pressing the flesh together before letting them bounce back into place. Just one of his hands is enough to cover the entirety of your tit, your bra doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden and beg for his attention. He pinches and rolls them between his fingers through your shirt, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. 

“T-take it off!” he grits out against your lips, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. “Please, gotta feel—”

An affirming hum is all he needs. He tears your blouse open with a strength you didn’t know he had, the fabric ripping loudly and the buttons popping off. Roughly he pulls your bra down just enough for your breasts to fall out, heated flesh and hard nipples pebbling in the cold air. Kai quickly warms them up with his fingers, tugging and rolling your beds between his thumbs and forefingers, the pleasure making you keen wantonly. 

“Kai! That shirt was expensive!” you complain, but you stroke his twitching cock even faster; you couldn’t find it within yourself to care much about anything that wasn’t Kai’s hands on you, and as much as you enjoyed listening to him get embarrassed you didn’t want him stopping again to apologize any more than he already has. 

“Couldn’t help it, just love your tits,” Kai groans, letting go of your nipples to grope and massage the fat mounds of your breasts. His grip gets tighter with every flick of your wrist, his breath fanning over you in short airy pants. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, it makes me insane. Running around in those tight tops and those short little skirts, I just want to— a-anh!— f-fuck you all the time!”

“Kai,” you plead, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the searing heat growing between them. 

“I wish I could see you right now,” he continues, and you jump at the sudden electric sensation of a hot wet tongue sliding against your nipple. “I could probably cum just from how hot you look— God, I’ve been wanting to do this forever.”

His plump, spit-slick lips seal themselves around your hard bud, his hands continuing to play with your chest as he sucks and nibbles. You cry out high in your throat, letting go of his twitching cock to crumple your fist in his shirt. Your pussy aches to be touched, dripping so much slick that you’re sure you’ve completely ruined your panties. Kai's fingers and mouth are better than anything you’ve ever felt before, good enough to make you cum from just this alone, you’re sure, but the cavernous hunger that’s developed within you desperately, wildly, primally demands more.

“Touch me!” you beg him, pulling him impossibly closer, right where you need him most. “Kai, please touch me!”

Kai gives your nipple one last tug between his teeth before pulling off with a pop, leaving your breasts covered in his spit and erupting in goose flesh from the frigid air. Slowly and carefully he crawls himself between your open legs, sliding his fingers underneath your bunched up skirt. He runs a fingertip down the gusset of your panties, just the ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make you keen in delight. “You’re so wet,” he laments, sounding utterly ruined, two thick fingers rubbing your weeping pussy lips over the lace, circling your clit until you mewl, “Made a mess in your panties… Did I really make you this wet? That’s so fucking hot…”

He relinquishes his finger, and you’re not sure what you were expecting next, but it definitely wasn’t for him to grab ahold of your pantyhose and underwear and tear them from your body in one powerful yank. The nylon and lace rip like paper, the ghastly sound ringing in your ears, and Kai tosses the shredded fabric to the side along with your buttons before positioning himself to kneel between your thighs.

“I’ll do more than touch you if you’ll let me,” he whispers in your ear, running his hand up your inner thigh, leaving behind a burning trail in it’s wake, “I wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please, can I? I’ll buy you new clothes, I’ll do anything you want, just let me ruin you…”

“We don’t have a condom…” you breathe, but you widen your legs to give him more room anyway. Usually that would be a deal-breaker for you, but you’ve already done more in this closet than you would have ever even dreamed of doing. 

“I'll pull out, I promise.” Kai's voice is far too soothing for your own good, those terrible, god-sent big hands grabbing ahold of the back of your knees to expose you even further. You can hardly think at all anymore, too focused on the throbbing need swirling deep in your pussy, and how good it would feel if you would take the risk and just let go.

“Please…” is all you can manage to say, and with a delighted groan, Huening folds your legs up to rest on his shoulders and positions his weeping cock at your entrance. It feels so filthy, with your torn-up pantyhose still clinging to your legs and your heels hanging from your toes, and once again you wish that you could see just how lewd of a sight the two of you were.

Kai slides his cock up and down between your folds, getting his shaft nice and wet with your juices. His bulbous cockhead bumps deliciously against your clit before gliding back down to your entrance, pressing against the rim of your hole just enough to tease before letting up and doing it again. As hot as it is and as good as it feels, you can’t handle any teasing anymore, not when you’ve been on the edge and in need of release for this long.

“Put it in!” you cry, and you can hardly recognize your own voice. You sound so needy, so pornographic— it would be humiliating if you weren’t this far gone. “Please, please, need you s’bad, Kai, need your cock…”

Kai shushes you with an unexpectedly chaste kiss, sweet and gentle and nothing at all like the way he was thrusting himself inside of your tight wet heat like an animal. The stretch burns so good you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming, his cock longer and fatter than any you’ve ever taken before. For a delirious moment you worry that he’ll tear you in half, that he won’t fit, your walls clenching down on him like a vice as he forces his way deeper and deeper, until his tip kisses your cervix and his balls slap wetly against your ass.

“S-so big…” you slur against his skin, clawing weakly at his shoulders. Your mouth is slack and drooling and your mind was blank of everything except for how impossibly full you feel. 

“Is it too much?” Kai asks nervously, back to his sweet anxious self for a split second. “I’m so sorry, sweetie, I couldn’t stop myself, your pussy’s sucking me in—”

“Nooo! It feels so goo–o–ood!” you mewl dumbly, finding it harder and harder to string a sentence together the longer Kai’s inside of you. “Need more, Hyuka! Give it to me!” 

The innocent nickname makes him moan, and just like you wanted and pleaded for he begins to fuck you in sincere earnest. His thrusts are fast and brutal, lit by a deep, primal fire you had no idea he possessed. It knocks the wind out of you, overwhelmed in the best possible way, your mouth falling slack and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, moaning in delight every time his cock spears your cervix.

“Deep! So f-fucking deep!” you hiccup breathlessly, surrendering yourself completely to the onslaught of red-hot pleasure. You can feel him in your belly, right under your navel, your wet little pussy squelching obscenely with every movement of Kai's hips. He finds your sweet spot with shocking ease, angling his cock to drag against that spongey bundle of nerves and make you gush. 

“Yeah?” he croons, thrusting himself inside of you impossibly harder, faster, “Feels so good, huh? Fuck, this pussy’s so fucking wet, so fucking tight— best cunt i’ve ever had, baby, feels better than I ever imagined…! Can’t let you go now, perfect girl, all for me. This perfect pussy’s all mine, you hear, no one else's!”

He recaptures your pert nipple between his lips, suckling even rougher than before; your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, sensitive flesh jiggling in his face as he trails his teeth and tongue across the planes of your cleavage, leaving dusky love bites in his wake. He slobbers over your tits like a hungry dog, his moans and whines muffled by your nipples he takes turns slurping them up into his mouth. The pangs of pleasure from your sore nipples combined with Kai's quickening pace and filthy words tug you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, the fiery hot tsunami building deep within your belly threatening to overflow and toss you into its euphoric depths.

“God, I love you,” kai admits as he continues to babble nonsense, seemingly not noticing just what was coming out of his mouth, “I’ve been wanting you for so fucking long, needed you  so bad— my pretty girl, so beautiful, I wanna see your face when you cum. You’ve gotta look so sexy when you cum.”

Your heart clenches along with your cunt. 

There is nothing you can see, but there is plenty you can hear— Kai’s hips clapping against your ass, his beautiful broken whimpering, the slick sounds of your pussy gushing around his cock. You open your mouth to speak, voice the mounting ecstasy that built steadily in your throbbing cunt, but you can’t seem to get out anything other than shrill, pathetic cries of pleasure. Your mind was wiped completely blank, nothing but static behind your eyes, thoughts filled with nothing except the pressure in your core and how good it would feel if you let it consume you.

“I’m gonna cum!” you wail, using up all your energy into making yourself speak— Kai groans happily, his thrusts turning desperate and sloppy, speeding up to pound your sweet spot into oblivion.

“Yes! Fuck yes, cum with me, angel, come on. You can do it.” He coos into your ear, voice shaking as his body jolts and shudders above you. His hands come down to press hard on your engorged, sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles against the throbbing bud. “That’s it, make a mess, cum all over my cock!” 

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, your entire body shaking from overwhelming pleasure as you pulsate and gush around him. You recognize distantly that you’re squirting, droplets of viscous liquid splashing all over your tummy and thighs, drenching Huening’s own as well. His own climax is triggered by the violent pulsing of your gummy walls around him, and he wrenches out his cock from your quivering pussy just milliseconds before ropes and ropes of thick, sticky cum splatters hot and wet all over your heaving tits.

“Holy fuck.” Kai whispers, unable to catch his breath. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

You just giggle weakly, trying to calm down your racing heart yourself. The two of you lay against each other in silence for a moment basking in the afterglow while you both come down from your highs. Your orgasm sucked all the life force out of you, it seemed, leaving you weak and exhausted as you lay boneless on the cold storage closet floor.

And just like that, the lights turn back on. The vents begin to whir and suck out the hot, sweaty air, but the stench of sex still lingers. You’re nearly blindsided after spending so long in the dark, screwing up your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

Kai is staring right back at you.

His dark hair is wild and sticking out in all directions, eyes blown wide and his cheeks dusted pink. His tie is half-undone and his work shirt is terribly wrinkled, drenched in what you can only assume to be your juices. His softening cock lies against his thigh, poking out from his unzipped fly, slacks just as damp and ruined as his shirt was. His chest heaves with the force of his breaths, no doubt taking in your own appearance himself. You look down just enough to see your torn clothes, your cum stained breasts and wet thighs, your smart professional outfit looking like it was ravaged by some sort of rabid animal.

“You look beautiful.” Kai whispers in rapture. 

“Um.” you respond smartly, cheeks burning. Averting your eyes you check the door; the keypad is blinking cheerfully at you, as if it had never turned off in the first place. It’s just then that you realize you can’t hear the storm anymore. The worst must have ended while you were occupied with other things.

“Do… you want to keep looking for those decorations?” Kai prods gently. You shoot him a quizzical glare.

“I want to go home.” you grumble lightheartedly. “I don’t give a damn about that stupid party anymore. I’ll just ask Yeonjun for his credit card.”

Kai smiles, that signature smile that gives you even more butterflies now than it ever did before. “That’s what I was hoping you were going to say. Does my home work for you? We can watch a movie and get takeout. Or, I mean, you don’t have to, we can just leave and go our separate ways and—”

“I’d love to.” you snicker, leaning forward to steal a kiss. “Should we take separate cars, though? It would be suspicious if we showed back up tomorrow together.”

“We’ll be sneaky about it. We’re good at that.”

©BAMBIIHEE 2025. all rights reserved.

[yujiqi]

fingers

idol!jake x f!reader

synopsis: jake just can't keep his hands still on weverse live so you find a better way for him to fidget those pretty fingers of his!

genre/s: smut, perhaps fluff

warnings: pet names (mostly baby, good boy), sub!jake, fingering, jake loves ur boobs, finger sucking, jake is like a dumb little puppy

a/n: when the jake jakes so hard i have to write something. ive been so obsessed w that clip of him on live practically fingering his hand so yk i had to come out of the shadows to write smth. enjoy!

your boyfriend jake and his group have a huge following and you often see videos of them on your fyp, always bringing a smile to your face. but lately his weverse lives have been gaining a lot of attention. parasocial fans clipping moments where he makes suggestive motions with his hands, his pretty hands, as he mindlessly fidgets. he constantly has to be touching or messing with something and today you wanted to take advantage of this habit of his.

"jake why are you always fidgeting with your hands?" your boyfriend reads aloud a comment. he decided to do a weverse live today and you were feeling lonely so you dropped by the studio to enjoy his company as he does his thing.

"umm i don't know, i usually just can't sit still you know? my hands always need to be touching or messing with something." his words make your ears perk up, and you try to see what he's doing from where you're seated to avoid being seen in the live. he has his middle and ring finger engulfed by his other hand. the sight of his pink knuckles and veiny hands make your breath hitch. it urges you to want to help jake with his fidgeting. give him something better to play around with that you can both benefit from. and most importantly, stop him from giving these people something to get off to. you pick up your phone and text jake.

end the live.

he briefly looks at you over his shoulder before turning back to his phone propped up "ok guys! i think i'm gonna end the live 'cause it's getting pretty late and engene need their beauty sleep" he says his byes and ends the live, swirling in his chair to face you. "what's up baby, you good?" he motions for you to come over. you don't say anything. instead you walk towards him and sit on his lap, snaking your arms around his neck. he lets out an exhale, shocked by the sudden contact. "..baby?"

"my sweet boy," you run your hand up his neck, caressing his cheek and he leans into your touch. you trail your hand down his arm, fingers tracing his veins down to his fingertips. "what am i gonna do with you?" you play around with his fingers as he looks at you like a dumb puppy.

"what do you mean?" his breathing increasing at just the contact of you on his lap and your intertwined fingers.

"what am i gonna do with all your fidgeting," you bring his hand to your lips, kissing each of his soft knuckles. "you give your fans quite the show, don't you?" you then guide his thumb to enter your parted lips. you feel him get harder underneath you as he watches your moves, hypnotized.

"baby, i-" he can barely keep it together as he feels your warm mouth enveloping his thumb.

a string of saliva connecting you to jakes finger as you pull away. "i want you to use your fingers for me only, can you do that jakey?" you reach up to stroke your nails through his messy hair. "can you be a good boy for me and show me how you can use those pretty pretty hands of yours?" he nuzzles his face into your neck, overwhelmed but amused by the whole scene.

"mhm" his voice muffled.

"words, love" he lifts his head, looking you in the eye.

"i'll be a good boy, your good boy. baby i promise i will" his eyes glistening with anticipation and eagerness to show you his ability.

"good boy" you wrap your arms around him once more to place long, passionate kisses on his soft lips. he begins to pull at the hem of your tshirt, attempting to pull it off of you. you pull away from his lips so he can complete the task, to be presented with your plump tits in his face.

"fuck angel, you're so.. can i?" his hands already massaging your breasts before you can even respond. he looks like a kid in a candy store as he kneads and pinches at the skin. he can't believe he didn't think of getting you to help with his fidgeting. he takes his time examining your reaction to different ways he plays with your boobs, wanting to satisfy you and more. he finds you like it the most when he squeezes them. "am i doing good?”

"mmm yes, you're doing so good.. you're- you're being such a good boy for me" you breathe out, his actions making your pussy ache, needing to be touched.

he leans down to kiss your collarbone up to your neck as he continues going at your tits like he'll never get a another opportunity.

"fuck jakey, look what you're doing" you guide one of his hands away from your chest and slowly trail it down your body towards the wet spot that seeped through your panties to your shorts.

"i did that?" feeling the dampness, once again he has that dumb puppy look on his face.

"yes my love. you did so so good," you caress his cheek again, running your thumb on the soft skin. "but now you need to do something about it." you gently grind onto his hand to get him started, the movement causing him to let out a small groan. he pushes your shorts and panties to the side to get a clear view of how wet his hands alone made you. your breathing picks up, waiting for him to use his hands just like he did in that live stream. he brings that same thumb from before up to his lips, sucking on it, before sticking it back in your warm mouth, looking you in the eyes more confidently than before. you suck on his thumb seductively and he then pulls it out and presses it on your clit, starting slow circles. you immediately throw your head back, letting out a soft moan, amazed by his sudden skills.

"im being such a good boy right baby? am i using my hands right?" his voice muffled as he goes at kissing your neck again. his thumb begins rubbing faster as he begins to stick a finger inside your slick entrance. you have to prop your hands onto his shoulders to keep your balance.

"y-yes, your hands are perfect, baby" you start rocking your hips as he adds a finger and another, stretching your tight hole. you can barely keep it together. you become a mess riding his slim, veiny fingers as they continuously hit your g-spot. each pump of jakes fingers is one closer to your release.

"jakey.. im gonna.." you moan out as he watches your face, breathless at the sight, rubbing your clit harder, pushing his fingers up higher, moving them faster to get you there. with one last pump of his fingers, you cum and your liquids spill onto his hand, making it even prettier if possible.

"jake..." you look at him in awe as he burries his face in your neck, embarrassed at how confident he got. you grab his glistening hand, catching him off guard before you lick your cum clean off his fingers. his jaw's practically on the floor at this point. "such a good boy" you mumble, kissing him to give him a taste of his work. "so good with those pretty hands." your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck and he grips your waist, not wanting to let go.

"god, you're so sexy y/n" is all he manages to say before pulling away to shove his face back into the crook of your neck, still shy from the events.

"you better not do none of that fidgeting on your lives," you run your fingers through his hair. "you have no idea how impactful it is." you say, giggling

"mk, my fingers are for you only," he wraps his arms even tighter around you. "i love you"

"i love you too, my sweet boy" you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "now let's go home."

[wingedhallows]

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄

━━ ꩜ .ᐟ

ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 loser!ellie williams x reader / 4.2k words ᯓ★ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 fluff; suggestive talk (but mostly cute, awkward fluff) ᯓ★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 so this has been sitting in my drafts for months and i really, really needed to get it off my chest. so here you go!

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

The frat house is too loud, the lights are too weird, and Ellie’s clutching her Solo cup like it’s a life vest.

“Why are we here again?” she hisses at Dina over the rim.

“Because,” Dina says, already halfway across the room, “you need to talk to people who aren’t me or a textbook!”

And just like that, she’s gone—swept into the crowd like a traitor.

Ellie sighs, mutters something about “social torture,” and edges closer to the snack table, because if she’s gonna suffer, she’s doing it with pretzels.

That’s when she hears it.

“Well, well,” someone purrs just to her left. “Who’s the cutie with the bad posture?”

She freezes mid-chew.

Turns her head. Slowly.

And there you are—propped against the kitchen doorway like you belong on a poster, drink in hand, smile that could cut glass. You’re looking right at her. And worse—you know she knows.

Ellie stares. “Me?”

You grin. “Unless there’s another hot loser with nervous hands and a hoodie two sizes too big.”

She straightens up instinctively, knocks her cup into a bowl of Cheetos.

You raise a brow, watching the whole thing unfold like it’s a comedy special just for you. “So what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Ellie,” she says, too quickly. Then clears her throat. “Williams. Ellie. That’s my last name, not a—never mind.”

You hum, stepping a little closer. “Cute and awkward. Dangerous combo.”

Jesse appears like some kind of summoned witness and claps a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Oh, hey, you met Y/N?”

Ellie’s already short-circuiting. “I’m meeting her right now. I mean, yeah. I guess. She’s uh—she’s talking to me.”

“She does that sometimes,” Jesse says with a smirk. “You’re surviving though. I’m impressed.”

“I’m thriving,” Ellie says weakly.

You bite your lip to hide a laugh. “Oh yeah? That what this is?” You reach out, pluck a cheese puff off her hoodie like it’s an accessory. “Thriving looks a lot like secondhand embarrassment.”

Ellie rubs the back of her neck, ears burning. “You’re really gonna flirt with me in front of people, huh?”

You lean in just a little. “Sweetheart, I haven’t even started yet.”

And she swears—swears—she blacks out for a second. Just a little.

You’re still standing there with that smug little smile, and Ellie’s pretty sure her heart rate’s legally concerning. Jesse’s long gone, and now it’s just you and her and the thumping bassline of some frat boy’s heartbreak playlist in the background.

She clears her throat, steels herself. She can do this. She’s not a total idiot. Just… 78% idiot, maybe.

“So,” she says, hands in her pockets, rocking slightly on her heels. “You, uh… flirt with all the awkward girls at parties, or am I special?”

You tilt your head, eyes glittering. “You’re special.”

Ellie blinks. “Wait, really?”

You laugh, not mean—soft, fond even. “Yeah. You’re fun.”

“Cool, cool,” she says, definitely too fast. “I’m fun. That’s me.”

You sip your drink, eyes still on her. “You gonna prove it or just stand there looking like you forgot your name?”

“I—” she pauses, narrows her eyes, then squares her shoulders. “Okay, you want fun? Fine. Hypothetical for you.”

You raise your brows, intrigued. “Hit me.”

Ellie points between the two of you. “Say we’re alone. Like, really alone. No party. No music. Just… my hoodie, your lip gloss, and maybe a couch. What happens?”

Your lips part—just slightly—and that wicked smile curves again, a little slower this time.

“Mmm. Sounds like someone’s been thinking about that.”

Ellie’s ears go nuclear red. “N-no! I mean—not like, obsessively. Just like…casually. Once. Or twice. Or like—okay, a lot.”

You step closer, just enough that she smells your perfume—soft, a little sweet, like vanilla and trouble.

“Would you kiss me in that hypothetical?” you ask, tone light but laced with something molten.

Ellie swallows. “Only if you let me.”

You laugh—low this time, eyes warm, like you’re finally letting her win a little. “Permission granted, Williams.”

And oh, she’s malfunctioning again.

“Hypothetically,” she mumbles, eyes locked on your lips.

“Sure,” you say, smiling. “We’ll call it that.”

The living room smells like beer and bad choices. A half-deflated beach ball bounces off someone’s head in the background. Ellie’s sitting cross-legged on the carpet, awkwardly hunched between Jesse and some dude in a jersey, and she knows she should’ve left when the game started.

Truth or dare.

Of course someone suggested it. Of course Dina shoved her into the circle. And of course—you’re here now, perched on the arm of a couch like you’re being painted, drink in hand, legs crossed, smile dangerous.

Ellie’s trying not to look at you. She’s failing.

“Okay, okay,” Jesse says, pointing a mostly empty beer bottle at her. “Williams. Truth or dare.”

Ellie hesitates. “Truth?”

Groans echo around the circle. “Boring!”

You just tilt your head at her. “C’mon, Ellie. You don’t strike me as boring.”

She chokes. “I—yeah. Okay. Fine. Dare.”

Jesse grins. Evil.

“I dare you to kiss Y/N.”

And boom. The room erupts. People laughing, hollering, clapping their hands like it’s a damn sports event. Ellie goes stiff, like someone hit her with a freeze ray. She whips her head to look at you—and you’re already watching her with that same devilish smile, sipping your drink like you’re not the center of gravity right now.

“Oh,” you say sweetly, “are you nervous?”

Ellie blinks. “I—I—no? I mean, yes. I mean, not scared, just like, y’know, socially paralyzed.”

You giggle and slide off the couch with too much grace, sitting up on your knees across from her, face only inches away now.

“It’s just a dare, right?” you whisper, soft enough that only she hears. “Unless you want it to be something else.”

Ellie’s face is scarlet. She swallows hard, eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes, panicking in real time.

“I—I don’t wanna mess it up,” she murmurs.

You lean in, voice low, teasing. “You won’t.”

She stares at you like you’ve just offered her salvation. Then—very gently, very awkwardly—she leans in, hesitates a breath away like she’s checking one last time.

You don’t move.

So she kisses you.

It’s short—soft and a little unsure, her hand brushing yours like she doesn’t know where to touch. But her lips are warm and honest, and the second she pulls back, the room explodes again. Jesse’s laughing. Someone’s whistling.

Ellie just sits there, stunned, blinking like a broken robot.

And you?

You’re still leaning close, smiling like the cat that got the very awkward, very kissable mouse.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you murmur.

Ellie clears her throat. “Y-you taste like cherry vodka and world domination.”

You laugh—bright this time—and she looks like she might actually die.

Ellie doesn’t even remember how she got outside.

One second she was surrounded—noise, bodies, someone shouting about shotgun beers—and the next, she’s out on the porch, hands jammed into her hoodie pocket, pacing in tight little circles like she’s gonna vibrate into another dimension.

The door creaks open behind her.

She flinches. Freezes.

And then—you.

You step out slow, arms crossed, eyes locked on her like you’ve got her under a microscope.

“You okay there, Williams?”

She spins to face you too fast, nearly stumbles over her own feet. “Me? Yeah. No. I mean, yeah, totally. Just needed, like, air. Space. An intermission from the public humiliation.”

You smile—soft this time, none of that sharp party-girl edge, just warmth and curiosity. “Wasn’t humiliation. It was cute.”

Ellie groans, drags her hand down her face. “Oh god, don’t say ‘cute.’ That makes it worse.”

“Worse?” You lean against the porch railing, hip cocked, head tilted. “I thought you were thriving.”

“That was before I kissed you in front of thirty drunk strangers while sweating through my shirt and quoting… whatever the hell I said.” She sighs. “Was I drooling? I might’ve been drooling.”

You laugh, soft and sweet. “You didn’t drool.”

“That’s a relief,” she mutters.

You pause, then step a little closer. “You wanna do it again?”

She blinks. “Drool?”

You bite back a smile. “No, dumbass. The kiss.”

Ellie stares at you, eyes wide, pupils blown in the dim porch light. “Like… here? Now?”

You nod once, still watching her. “No crowd. No pressure. Just you and me.”

She hesitates—shifting, fidgeting—then takes a slow, deep breath and steps closer. Your knees bump. Her hands hover for a second like she’s not sure where to put them, and then one finally lands at your waist, the other bracing lightly on the railing beside you.

She’s still nervous. But this time, she leans in on her own.

And when she kisses you, it’s real.

Slow. Warm. A little shaky at first, but then she exhales against your mouth and sinks into it—like she’s been holding her breath all night and just now remembered how to breathe.

You curl your fingers into her hoodie, tug her closer, and she goes—completely—without resistance. Just melts into you like you’re gravity and she’s been off balance her whole life.

When you finally pull back, she’s flushed and breathless and smiling—small, crooked, and so smitten.

“Better?” you ask softly.

She nods. “Yeah,” she whispers. “So much better.”

Then a beat of silence.

“…I definitely drooled that time.”

You laugh, lean your forehead against hers. “Still cute.”

You’re still standing there when she pulls back the second time—kiss-drunk, your fingers still curled in the front of her hoodie like you’re not quite ready to let her go. And neither is she, really.

But Jesse’s yelling something inside about “where the hell is Williams with the lighter,” and the moment’s threatening to shift.

You glance toward the house, then back at her, smile tugging soft at your lips. “You gonna survive in there?”

Ellie snorts. “Physically, maybe. Emotionally? Jury’s out.”

You laugh again and reach for her hand, pressing a little slip of paper into her palm—your number, scrawled quick and messy in pink pen.

“Text me,” you say, like it’s obvious.

She looks at it like it’s a map to buried treasure. “You sure?”

Your grin goes wicked. “Unless you plan on kissing someone else next party.”

She’s already tucking the paper into her hoodie pocket like it’s gold. “Absolutely not. I’ve peaked. That’s it. I’m retired.”

You roll your eyes, nudge her shoulder. “Go home, loser.”

She grins, a little dazed. “Yeah. Okay. Night.”

“Night, Williams.”

She’s halfway down the block when it hits her.

You kissed her. Twice.

You gave her your number.

You told her to text you.

You laughed at her jokes.

You smiled like you meant it.

She stops on the sidewalk, presses her hands to her face like that’ll calm down the sheer voltage buzzing in her chest.

Holy shit.

She likes me. Or at least, she doesn’t hate me. That’s something. That’s huge. That’s—oh my god, I kissed her in front of people. I KISSED HER. And she didn’t run.

She keeps walking, hoodie pulled tight around her face, grinning like a fool.

I didn’t choke.

Okay, I kind of choked, but like… cute choke. Charming choke.

She said I was cute. She called me a dumbass, but like—affectionately.

She touched my waist. She gave me her number. That happened. That was real.

And I didn’t screw it up.

I mean, I probably did a little. But she still smiled. And kissed me again.

I am so screwed.

She pauses at a crosswalk, fishes the paper out again just to make sure it’s still real.

Your name. A heart next to it. Your number underneath. A little arrow that says:

“Don’t be weird.”

She stares at it for a second, then stuffs it back in her pocket and pulls out her phone with shaking fingers.

She types. Deletes. Types again.

Finally hits send.

ellie williams: made it home without getting hit by a car. 7/10 night. could’ve used one more kiss for the road

She stares at the screen.

The three little dots appear.

And she dies.

She’s in her room now—door shut, hoodie still on, standing in the dark like a Victorian widow. The only light is her phone screen.

Your reply comes in fast.

you: bold of you to assume I didn’t want to kiss you a third time

Ellie stares.

She sits down. Then stands up again. Then sits on the floor.

She types.

Deletes.

Types again.

ellie williams: ok but like was that the vodka talking or

you: babe I was sober and looking at you like you hung the damn moon

Ellie throws herself backwards on the floor like she’s been shot. Hands over her face. A little choked, disbelieving laugh escaping her chest.

“Okay,” she mutters, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I’m marrying her.”

Her phone buzzes again.

you: you kiss like you mean it, by the way didn’t expect that from the girl who panicked when I called her cute

She groans. Clutches the phone to her chest like it’s a love letter and she’s sixteen.

ellie williams: yeah well. maybe i meant it a little. or a lot. maybe i still do.

She stares at that last message for a long second.

Hits send and immediately rolls over and buries her face in the carpet. A beat.

you: I’m free tomorrow night. wanna prove it?

She yells into her hoodie.

Then—

ellie williams: ok but you’re not allowed to call me cute unless you mean it or… do. idk. i’m not the boss of you.

you: oh baby I always mean it

Ellie falls back again, heart a whole explosion in her chest. She’s grinning so hard it hurts.

She looks at the phone one last time, locks it, holds it against her chest.

And whispers to the ceiling:

“…I am so in love.”

6:42pm.

Ellie stands in front of her mirror, staring herself down like it’s a boss battle.

She’s changed outfits three times. The bed behind her looks like a war zone. Flannel shirt? Too “axe murderer.” Hoodie? Too “just robbed a gas station.” Black tee and denim jacket? Too gay.

Which… okay, is accurate. But still.

She settles on the jacket. Pulls it on. Immediately pulls it off. Puts it on again and groans.

She checks her phone for the sixth time in a minute. No new texts.

Maybe she changed her mind. maybe she forgot. maybe this was all a prank. maybe jesse paid her to kiss you and this is a long con and you’re walking into a humiliation vortex and—

Ping.

you: I’m outside :) don’t make me come up there and drag your hoodie-wearing ass out

Ellie jumps.

Grabs her keys. Stuffs her phone in her pocket. She stares in the mirror one last time and mutters: “Don’t be weird. Don’t be weird. Don’t be weird.”

You’re leaning against your car, arms crossed, wearing this effortlessly hot little outfit like this is casual for you. And Ellie?

Ellie nearly trips on the curb.

She recovers with a half-wave, half-salute that’s so awkward it makes her physically cringe.

“Hey,” she says, trying to sound cool, but it comes out like a dying frog. “Hey. Hi.”

You smile like she’s your favorite joke. “Hey, yourself.”

You look her up and down, real slow. “You clean up nice, Williams.”

Ellie tugs at the hem of her jacket like it might hide her flustered grin. “You, uh—you look… yeah. Wow. Like, unfair levels of wow.”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. “That nervous?”

“I’m chill,” she lies. “So chill. Like, dangerously chill. Borderline frostbite.”

You walk up close, close enough that her breath stutters.

“Babe,” you say, voice low, teasing, “you’re sweating.”

“I run warm,” she croaks.

You lean in, real soft. “Relax. It’s just a movie.”

She nods quickly. “Right. A movie. Easy. Dark room. Low stakes. Sitting very close to you for two hours.”

You grin. “You gonna make it through the previews, or should I prepare for a mid-date meltdown?”

Ellie grins, finally settling, finally exhaling.

“I make no promises,” she says. “But I brought gum and panic meds, so… we’re covered.”

You loop your arm through hers and start walking toward the theater.

“Perfect,” you murmur. “I brought nerves of steel and a hand you can hold.”

She almost trips again on the way into the movie theater.

The line at the concession stand is long, and Ellie’s already made her first dramatic stand of the night.

“I’m paying,” she says, dead serious, digging into her back pocket like she’s squaring up to fight you and capitalism.

You raise a brow, amused. “Ellie, it’s popcorn.”

“Yeah, and it’s our first popcorn.” She slaps her card on the counter. “Don’t take this from me.”

You giggle and lean on the counter next to her. “Chivalry looks good on you.”

She stiffens like she’s been knighted.

“I—I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits under her breath. “But I’m trying to be, like… romantic and shit.”

“You’re doing great,” you whisper, brushing your fingers against hers.

Her brain short-circuits, but she manages to buy a large popcorn, a couple of drinks, and somehow doesn’t drop anything on the way into the theater. Barely.

You slide into the back row, far corner, and Ellie sits beside you with the popcorn in her lap like it’s a safety blanket. The previews start. The lights dim. And you glance over just in time to catch her cracking her knuckles in slow motion like she’s psyching herself up for battle.

She shifts. Clears her throat.

Does the classic hover-and-drop.

First her elbow nudges the armrest.

Then her arm sort of… inches along the back of your seat.

Then stops.

She’s frozen. Rigid. Terrified.

You smile to yourself, wait a second—then lean in just enough that your shoulder presses against her side, warm and certain.

Ellie exhales. Barely moves. But her arm settles a little heavier behind you.

You glance up at her.

She’s looking at the screen like her life depends on it.

“You good over there?” you whisper.

She swallows. “Totally. I’m—just focused on the plot.”

You grin. “The plot hasn’t started yet.”

“…Right. I’m pre-focusing.”

You laugh, soft, and reach over to steal a piece of popcorn from her lap. Your fingers brush hers.

She flinches. Then looks at you. Like really looks.

And her voice comes quiet this time, nervous and warm: “You’re really pretty, by the way.”

You blink.

Slow smile spreading. “You trying to kiss me again, Williams?”

“I mean—only if you want—”

You don’t let her finish and kiss her.

Right there in the back row, soft and sweet, her hand curling instinctively around your waist. It’s slower than the last time, less nerves, more intention. Like she’s finally realizing you want her just like this—awkward, sincere, and completely gone for you.

When you pull back, Ellie’s eyes are glassy in the dark.

“Holy shit,” she whispers. “You really like me, huh?”

You press your nose to hers and grin. “Took you long enough.”

She’s still blushing when the movie starts—but now her hand’s laced in yours, and she doesn’t flinch when your head drops to her shoulder halfway through.

And yeah—she misses most of the movie.

But she doesn’t miss a second of you.

The movie ended over an hour ago, but Ellie still hasn’t quite settled. She’s sitting in your passenger seat like she’s afraid to move too much—one leg bouncing, hands in her lap, jacket wrinkled where you held onto her during the last scene.

You’re driving her home slow, like you don’t really want to get there yet.

And honestly? She doesn’t either.

She sneaks glances at you in the quiet. Streetlights flicker gold across your face, and it makes her want to say something wild—something brave. But it gets caught every time, right behind her teeth.

You pull up in front of her building.

Ellie doesn’t move.

You kill the engine. Turn to look at her, brows lifted. “You gonna survive parting ways, Williams?”

She chuckles under her breath, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean. I’m kinda tempted to fake a power outage in my apartment just so you’ll come upstairs.”

“Oh yeah?” you tease. “That your smoothest move?”

“It’s all I got,” she mutters. “Unless you wanna hear about my Blade Runner fan theory. Real seductive stuff.”

You laugh, warm and easy.

Ellie hesitates.

Then she clears her throat. “Hey. Um…”

You glance over and clock the shift in her voice.

She’s serious now. Barely holding your gaze. Thumb rubbing over her palm like she’s trying to ground herself.

“I know this was just a movie and some popcorn and, like, a public mental breakdown or two—but…” She pauses, breathes in. “I really, really like you.”

Silence.

Her throat bobs. “And I—I don’t know if you’re just being nice or if I’m reading into shit, but I’ve had a lot of dumb crushes and this one’s, like… different. Like I feel it in my ribs. Like when you kissed me the first time, I swear to god I blacked out. And I’ve been trying to play it cool but I’m not cool. I’m a hoodie-wearing idiot and I—”

You reach across the console, fingers brushing hers.

She stops talking.

You’re smiling.

But it’s not teasing this time.

It’s soft.

Real.

“I like you too, Ellie,” you say gently. “I’ve been flirting with you since the second I saw you. And I don’t do that with people I don’t mean it with.”

She just stares at you, frozen like you knocked the wind out of her.

“So yeah,” you continue, voice low. “You’re allowed to like me. You’re allowed to be serious about it. And if it helps—”

You squeeze her hand.

“I’m serious too.”

She lets out this little laugh, half-disbelieving, half-relieved.

“Holy shit.”

You smile wider. “You keep saying that.”

“I know. It’s just… you’re you. And I’m me. And now I’m gonna go upstairs and freak out in my kitchen about how I got kissed three times and didn’t faint.”

You lean across the console. Kiss her one more time—slow, grounding, and full of all the things she doesn’t have words for yet.

When you pull back, you whisper “Text me when you start spiraling.”

Ellie smiles like it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted.

“I will. Promise.”

Then she stumbles out of the car, turns once at the door to watch you pull away from the curb.

And yeah—she texts you four minutes later.

ellie williams: spiraling has begun please advise

Ellie crashes onto her couch the second she walks in the door.

Boots off, hoodie still on, cat immediately climbing onto her chest like so? did you embarrass yourself again or nah?

“Patches,” she whispers, petting her head with one hand and holding her phone in the other, “I think I’m in love.”

The cat meows. Judgingly.

Ellie sighs. Texts you again anyway.

ellie williams: hey what if i told you i almost tripped over the curb when i got out of your car would that ruin the vibe

A second later:

you: only makes the vibe stronger, babe you looked cute doing it

She lets her head fall back against the couch cushion, groaning. “Why are you so nice. It’s ruining me.”

The cat kneads her hoodie like she’s tired of this gay panic.

ellie williams: also i had fun tonight like a lot of fun like i already wanna do it again and the night isn’t even over yet

you: yeah? me too I kinda wanna see you with that panicked look again it’s hot

Ellie short-circuits for a solid ten seconds.

ellie williams: i can spiral in a panic attack anytime, babe tuesday work for you?

you: I’m free. pick the place.

She bites her lip. Brain screaming. You’re letting her choose? The possibilities are paralyzing.

ellie williams: okay i’m gonna pretend i didn’t just spend 10 minutes googling “cool second date ideas that aren’t weird” but like… maybe arcade? or mini golf? or i can just panic in public and buy you a smoothie your call

you: arcade sounds cute I’d love to watch you lose in air hockey while trying to flirt

ellie williams: oh i’m gonna flirt so hard and lose so bad can’t wait

The cat meows again. Ellie rubs her face and whispers,

“She likes me. Like, really likes me. What the hell.”

Then your last message comes in, soft and simple

you: goodnight, ellie love you talk tomorrow, yeah?

She stares, her mouth slightly open and her heart completely done for.

She whispers, “She loves me,” like she’s telling the cat a secret.

ellie williams: love you too night

She turns off her phone, wraps her arms around Patches, and lets herself sink into the couch with the dopiest smile on her face.

Outside, the city’s still buzzing.

But inside?

Ellie Williams is finally calm.

[lovingniamh]

₊˚ʚ 🩷 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. bathwater and wine ― Alessia Russo.

summary: you and alessia decide to christen the bath of your new home.

warnings: smut 18+ MDNI, you are responsible for the content you consume.

word count: 3.1k.

a/n: it’s the summer, i have infinite free time, and an alessia obsession..

( REQS OPEN FOR ALESSIA! )

There was something oddly comforting about the first few days in a new, empty home, no furniture, no proper lighting, just the bare essentials that came built-in. The kind of quiet that echoed when you walked, where your voices bounced off the walls like ghosts of conversations not yet had. It should’ve felt cold, impersonal, but somehow, it didn’t.

You both leaned fully into your inner interior designers, all mood boards and Pinterest saves, even if neither of you had any real intention of assembling anything yourselves. Alessia had “a vision”, vague and ever-shifting depending on the time of day and whether or not she was hungry. You mostly just nodded and tried to keep her from buying five versions of the same linen throw.

If IKEA was good at one thing, it was turning their job into yours. Boxes upon boxes piled in the hallway, filled with pieces that made no immediate sense, accompanied by a manual thick enough to double as a murder weapon.

Diagrams, arrows, and an encouraging cartoon man who clearly didn’t know what a power drill was. You squinted at the pages; Alessia handed you screws like it was surgery, and somehow, with a lot of sighing and a little swearing, things slowly started to look like a home.

By the time you finally cracked the last instruction for the new bed frame, it was well past sunset. The streetlights had flickered on outside, casting a soft, golden haze through the bare, curtainless windows.

Inside, the overhead bulb, still lacking a lampshade, buzzed faintly above you, shining down with the sterile glow of an office cubicle. Your eyes burnt, your fingers ached, and there was a suspicious bruise blooming on your shin from where the corner of a side panel had attacked you an hour earlier. You were honestly surprised you were still going.

Alessia had long since migrated from ‘supervisor’ to ‘decorative fixture’, lying belly-down on the rug with her head propped on her arms, scrolling through lighting options on her phone like she was picking out constellations.

Every few minutes she’d ask something like, “Would gold look tacky?” or “Is 96 quid an appropriate price for a lampshade?” without looking up. You’d grunt in response, not because you had strong feelings about the price or the look – it was a lampshade – but because your brain was entirely focused on making sure you weren’t screwing the slats in upside down, again.

Eventually, the last screw turned into place with a small, satisfying click. You sat back on your heels and exhaled like you’d just finished a marathon. Alessia perked up at the sound, tossing her phone somewhere near the foot of the bed and crawling over to inspect your handiwork like she’d been part of the process the whole time.

“We did it,” she said, grinning, running a hand along the newly assembled headboard like it was handcrafted mahogany.

“Seriously? ‘We’?” You deadpanned.

She raised a brow. “I was moral support.”

You reached out and tugged her closer by the hem of her sweatshirt. “You were lying on the floor googling fairy lights.”

“Exactly. Ambience.”

Despite yourself, you laughed, a soft, tired sound that felt good in your chest. You got up and managed to lift the mattress, that was propped against the wall, by yourself, and fitted it on top of the frame, before falling back onto it with a dull thud, bouncing slightly against the sturdy frame you placed together beneath. Alessia followed, curling in beside you like she belonged there, limbs tangled, her nose brushing your jaw.

The room was still mostly empty, no decorations, just the occasional plant and a stack of books you hadn't bothered to shelf yet, and now an unnecessarily big bed Alessia had picked out due to something about you liking to kick in the night. But it felt like something. Like the start of something.

“I’m running a bath,” she mumbled after a while whilst yawning, already halfway out of your arms and shuffling down the mattress. “My back is screaming.”

Rolling your eyes, you watched her go, stretching like a cat as she padded across the room. She looked soft in the low light, all messy hair and oversized sleeves, the picture of cosy domestic bliss, if you ignored the box of leftover screws on the floor and the shit ton of cardboard. 

You stayed there for a while after she left, limbs sprawled across the bed like you’d been dropped from a height, letting the mattress absorb the weight of the day. Your body ached in a way that felt earned, the kind of soreness that came from doing something tangible, something you could point at and say, 'We built that,' even if it wobbled slightly and was a little wonky.

From the bathroom, you heard the water running, the faint squeak of the old tap you needed to get replaced, and the rustle of Alessia pulling off her jumper, probably flinging it somewhere in that chaotic trail she always left behind. The smell of something floral crept through the doorway, lavender, maybe, or something even softer, and it struck you as impossibly domestic. Like you'd somehow wandered into someone else’s life.

You were still debating whether to peel yourself off the bed when her voice came, lazy and low and half-muffled over the hum of water, and incredibly bossy, which is the attitude she has been acquainted with during this move-in process.

“Y/N! Bring me the wine! And don’t forget the good glasses, not the bloody mug again.”

You sighed, dramatic for effect, but your body moved easily now, already slipping back into that rhythm of doing things just because she asked. You grabbed the half-open bottle from the bare, marble kitchen counter, the one you’d both said you’d have “just a glass” of earlier and then forgot about, and found two of the new wine glasses Alessia thought were appropriate as one of the first ‘new home’ purchases.

The bathroom was warm and hazy when you pushed the door open, a golden glow bouncing off the tiles from a single lamp perched dangerously on the windowsill, and you stared at it warily.

Alessia was already sunk deep into the tub, one leg hooked lazily over the rim, her arms draped on either side like she was being offered to the gods, not a single care in the world. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy knot, a few wisps clinging to her damp forehead. Steam curled gently in the air, softening the sharp corners of the room, and you noticed bits and pieces you’d need to get the builders in for, plus maybe some new tiles.

When she saw you, her eyes lit up in that quiet, smug way she always wore when she got what she wanted. She tilted her head back with a sigh and reached for the glass you handed her, fingers brushing yours.

“You’re good at taking instructions when I make them sound appealing,” she murmured, swirling the wine in her glass.

You scoffed, sitting cross-legged on the tiled floor beside the tub, resting your chin on top of your arm across the edge. “You were barely coherent.”

“Still worked.”

You clinked your glasses together with a quiet tap. The first sip burnt pleasantly on the way down, washing away some of the tension still clinging to your shoulders. Alessia hummed in contentment, eyes fluttering shut, the rise and fall of her breathing syncing with the soft ripples in the water.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was not awkward, but rather filled. Comfortable. You watched her chest rise and fall, her skin glowing under the warm light, water lapping gently at her collarbones. She looked content. Unbothered. The exact opposite of how she’d looked earlier when she tried to justify buying a £70 wall mirror with no actual plan to hang it.

“What do you think about the bath? You think we need a new one?”

“I think that… you should get in,” she said eventually, cracking one eye open, voice like the steam itself, gentle, inviting, indulgent.

You smirked, turning your head to look at her. “There’s barely room.”

“There’s enough for now.”

You shook your head, looking inside your wine glass before peering back up at her. “You just want me to do the heavy lifting of washing your hair.”

She smiled without denying it, eyes flickering to your mouth. “That, and I like you better when you're warm and wet.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

She took another sip, unbothered. “Mhm.”

It took all of ten seconds before your hand found her shin, sliding slowly up her damp leg. She didn’t flinch; she just let her knee fall open a little wider, her lip sucked between her teeth as she let herself feel your touch, the sensation.

The tension between you shifted, not sudden, not sharp, but like warm honey being poured into something already simmering. And maybe the bath wasn’t really built for two. And maybe the wine would go forgotten again. But Alessia was already watching you with that look, the one she reserved for soft nights and quieter moments, and you were already leaning closer, trailing your fingers just beneath the waterline. You did a lot of hard work today; you deserved it.

You left your wine on the tile beside you and peeled your shirt off, shivering in the tiny gust of air as you shed the rest. Alessia watched, her chin balanced on her kneecap now, eyes heavy, assessing, like you were another piece of furniture she’d decided on long before, this time one that came fully functional.

She scooted forward, making room, and you climbed in behind her, knees knocking ceramic, the water overflowing just enough to lap at the edge, scattering droplets across the floor.

She settled herself against your chest; you pulled her in, arms snaking around her middle, and felt the subtle tremor of her exhale as she melted into the bracket of your body. Her skin was liquid-warm and slick, and you pressed a soft kiss onto the damp crown of her head, then another, trailing a slow, deliberate line down the side of her throat.

Alessia’s hair, dampening at the nape, smelt like some soft, expensive thing you couldn’t pronounce but which, for the moment, you decided to privately call “Alessia”.

Your hands drifted, barely grazing the surface of her skin, feeling goosebumps ripple up her arms in the wake. She let her head loll back onto your shoulder, exposing the length of her neck, throat bobbing as she swallowed the rest of her wine in one reckless mouthful. You guided the glass from her hand, setting it with a clink beside the bath, along with yours. She shuddered, hips twitching from the smooth press of your bodies, and you pinned your palm flat over her stomach, feeling the flutter beneath.

The dampness between her thighs wasn’t just bathwater. You nudged her knees apart with your hands, arms braced around her, and let one slip, winding lower, fingers tracing restlessly until they found the soft divide of her legs, the other gripping at her thigh.

The heat there was a different kind, urgent, greedy, hardly contained by the tepid water and milky drift of suds. She made a low sound, throaty and rough, one she’d ever let anyone else hear, but her elbow pressed back into your ribs, seeking more.

You curled your hand further, parting her gently once more, and when your fingers slipped over her, you found her already slick, with delicate heat, feeling the frantic beat of her pulse just under the skin. She rocked once, a shiver running the length of her, and you used the tip of your nose to nudge her jaw to the side, pressing your mouth to the wet hollow beneath her ear.

Your wrist flexed as you circled her clit with slow, measured patience, your favourite way to tease her, to see how long this new, careful living together would last before it devolved back to the raw, hungry thing it had always been before.

Alessia’s hand shot out, gripping your thigh hard enough it would bruise in the morning, and she gasped, trying to stifle it, but the echo bounced off the tiled walls and returned to you, louder than intended. She had always been loud, not in conversation, but in the way she felt things; she filled the air with the force of it, pressing herself unapologetically into every moment, every touch.

You eased two fingers inside her, slow, the way she liked, curling against that spot that made her arch, her head knocking against your shoulder in a silent plea. Her thigh knocked against yours, slick and hard, and you grinned, ducking your head to press an open-mouthed kiss to the pink of her cheek.

“Fuck,” she whispered, voice hoarse, hand still clutching your leg like she was drowning and you were keeping her afloat. “Don’t stop.”

Her voice had gone ragged, and you answered by pressing the hand that was around her thigh flat against her trembling abdomen, holding her in place as you pumped your fingers deeper, slower, dragging each movement out until she was panting softly, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut.

You murmured something wordless into her ear, a comfort or a promise, neither of you could say, whilst your hand crept up to cup her chest, mapping the sharp rise and fall of her breaths. She twitched, once, twice, and then her head knocked back against your jaw, and she was making that sound again, high and frantic, almost a cry, choked into something like laughter, as she broke apart in your arms.

The water sloshed against your chest, her body going taut for a moment, shivering, then melting bonelessly back into you. You held her through it, anchoring her to you while the aftershocks trembled through her, every little heartbeat visible, tangible, as if your own skin was the drum.

You nuzzled her temple, tracing lazy circles on her stomach with the pad of your thumb, gratified by the way she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. You liked her best this way: entirely undone, stripped of every careful, curated thought.

She slid lower in the water, half-turning to face you, eyes wet and glassy, but with a dangerous spark lighting underneath. Her mouth found yours, warm and open, tasting faintly of wine and something sweeter. Her hands, always colder than you expected, slipped behind your neck, pulling you down and wrapping you into her, so your chins bumped together and your lips crashed in a way that would have been clumsy with anyone else, but with Alessia it was a challenge, a dare, a hot-breathed demand to stay with her in the bath until the water went cold and your skin wrinkled.

Her legs folded over yours, trapping you in the crook of the tub, water sloshing over your thighs as her fingers worked their way down, drifting under the surface. She guided your hand back between her legs, not even pretending to be patient about it now, and you let her, sinking your fingers back inside, this time curling your palm to match the frantic rhythm she set with her hips.

Her breathing was a hot, humid pressure against your cheek, her teeth nipping at your jaw as if she could bite the aftershocks out of her own body.

It was a different kind of closeness, everything in this new flat echoing every move and sound, magnifying the wet slide of your bodies and the tiny, insatiable noises Alessia made as you let your fingers return to their work.

“Look at you...” You hummed sultrily and watched her in the reflection of the misted bathroom mirror, the way her eyelids fluttered and her mouth parted on each breath, the way your own arms bracketed her in, holding her together, holding her apart.

The mirror fogged more every second, but you could still see the outline of Alessia’s body, undulating with every movement you made, and it gave you a stutter of pride, a sense of rightness that was as physical as it was emotional. “You’re so beautiful like this, falling apart for me.”

“Yes… like that,” she said, voice almost gone, and you tightened your hold a little, pressing the palm of your hand perfectly flush against her clit, the way she liked, the way that always made her come undone so fast she’d go boneless in your arms for minutes after. You circled your fingers inside her, slow at first, then hard and fast as she started to shake, her whole body going rigid, a fine tremor running up her spine. ”Fuck.”

You didn’t stop, not when she jerked, not when she clapped a hand over her own mouth as if that would keep the sounds in, not when her forehead fell against your own. You curled your fingers, found that spot again, and she twitched with a strangled moan, water splashing up in a miniature wave.

The air in the bathroom had gone thick, humid with steam and your shared exertions. You stroked her hair back from her temple, kissed the swell of her cheekbone, and let her rest against you until her breathing calmed. She tasted of sweat and lavender and the cheap Merlot neither of you could ever admit to liking, she tasted like home.

Eventually, she straightened, water slipping off her in a shining sheet.

Your thumbs rubbed at her hips, before asking her, “You okay?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, eyes flicking up to you, and grinned. “You asked me what I thought of the bath, yeah?” she said, voice still low and lazy. “Well, I think we may need to think about, more or less, renovating the whole bathroom.”

The floor, you saw, was already lacquered with half an inch of water, trails of bubbles slipping toward the hallway like they had somewhere better to be. “Yeah”, you huffed, running a hand through your hair, “I wasn’t sold on the tiles anyway.”

She hummed in agreement, the sound all soft amusement. You shifted onto your knees under the water, the movement sending another gentle wave lapping at the sides of the tub. Alessia watched you curiously, head tilted. 

“Do you actually want me to wash your hair?” 

She smiled at your softness, at the shift in you that only she ever seemed to coax out, “No, I washed it yesterday.”

With that, you leaned forward to reach for the plug, the suction giving a subtle groan as it broke, water already beginning to swirl around your thighs.

Alessia sighed, long and theatrical, resigned to the end of the warmth. Before she could complain further, you grabbed the towel from the barely functional radiator, wrapping her in it as she stood, all loose limbs and dripping skin. She yelped in protest as you tugged her towards you, but the sound turned quickly into a laugh when you buried your face in the crook of her neck, muffling your grin into her skin.

“I love you,” you mumbled as you pressed a soft, fleeting kiss once she was bundled snugly in the towel. She returned it just as gently, smiling into the kiss before pulling back slightly. Then her gaze drifted past you toward the radiator.

“Wait… do we seriously only have one towel?”

© lovingniamh please do not repost, steal or translate my work.

[ablobwhowrites]

I got an idea...what if...yanadere cookie run...cookies bring y/n into their world but...y/n is like fluttershy from mlp? Very shy, loves animals, friendly once you manage to coax her out of her shell, a pushover, and coward?

Just I think the yandere cookies would adore that because...well they won't try to escape because cowardly and so on...they will have to shower them with a lot of love so they actually exit their shell...and yeah!

I have some ideas for this but it's mostly idea for appearance wise that can change some interactions with Fluttershy y/n cookie.

I like to think if it's a winged y/n cookie, Y/n would be mostly on ground since their animals are mostly on the ground as they do fly but mostly to help animals or just anyone in need and I imagine when new cookies come to meet them as they are a sensation talked about with cookies, I basically imagine it's that whole scene of y/n just quietly whispering their name while avoiding eye contact and eventually a cookie has to step in a bit cause y/n was failing socially right there and sometimes 'disappears' from the kingdom sometimes to go into their cottage not to far away from the kingdom but is hidden enough to let y/n have their alone time with their animal friends but the only ones who really know y/n's cottage is werewolf cookie and red velvet cookie who come over sometimes for tea or just to be with y/n sometimes.

I do imagine y/n cookie does have freak outs like Fluttershy when they feel like no one is listening to them or something like that. I imagine y/n tends to be in the forest more because they are basically friends with all the animals and cookies panic thinking y/n was kidnapped but their just with their forest friends. Plus since Fluttershy bascially can be friend any kind of animal, I imagine even the half animal cookies, regular cookies, the cake monsters and dragons. For the cake monsters that are not like the cake house it's kinda like the my little pony movie when Fluttershy was comforting that guard that was crying, it's kinda like that but they become y/n's best friends after.

I imagine nutmeg tiger cookie to try and fight y/n at first but then ends up curled up against y/n and purring louder than butter tiger and she is embarrassed being in such a weakened state but she can't deny she loves the attention y/n gives her. The beast are kind the same way but each are different, shadow milk cookie is curious about why he feels this way? Why does he feel so happy and he didn't even crumble a cookie or spread his lies to others to make them fight, it's interesting to him. Burning spice cookie is kinda the same way and seeing how nutmeg tiger cookie was spending so much time outside beast yeast was cause of this cookie? What was so special about this cookie? Until he basically experienced the same thing as nutmeg tiger cookie and he makes a exception for y/n cookie as he likes how this cookie changes something in him that he hasn't felt in a long time. Mystic flour cookie felt comfort from y/n, as that was something she hasn't felt in a long time as this was different as this cookie as she knew these feelings would pass as everything does but she does like feeling this warm fuzzy feeling when being around y/n and seeing true kindness as a small part of her wants to stay in this moment and never let it pass.

Eternal sugar cookie is obsessed with y/n like she is hollyberry but if y/n is unlucky enough to be put into her paradise then she will be by y/n all the time. If y/n sits down know that eternal sugar cookie will have her head resting on their shoulder or lap as she hates having them out of her sight for even a minute and has her sugar angels be around y/n. And if y/n does have wings she slowly has them be covered in syrup that slowly makes it harder for them to escape her paradise until tiger lily cookie ruined it all.

If y/n cookie does have wings, I imagine they does use it often since all their friends both cookie and non cookie are on the ground mostly but they do fly for reasons as like to check on a mama bird they helped to make sure the eggs are okay or to help their friends at the cookie Kingdom with hanging something high up in the sky or to get something in a high up place but they stay on the ground mostly to help the animals at their cottage. The ancients do like y/n as they like the kind nature of y/n but pure vanilla cookie does worry for them as they never speak up sometimes or get to nervous to tell them a issues as he listens to them and even if it's a small thing that y/n may complain about or something like that pure vanilla will try everything to make y/n's worries go away. Hollyberry tries to have y/n come out of their shell by basically doing the one thing y/n hates to do, go to large parties were they no none and they get more nervous because of how many cookies are here and how it feels like eyes are looking at them. Golden cheese cookie loves to shower y/n in treasures as they get a big overwhelmed at how much stuff they bring back to their cottage but try to make use of it as they never had such flashy or golden things like this and do keep it safe in their cottage.

Dark cacao cookie likes the silence they share with eachother as dark cacao likes seeing how y/n always goes outside to seemingly talk to the birds that inhabited the air and he does introduce y/n to a cacao eagle that lives in the ideas as once y/n disappeared in the kingdom and Second Watcher saw y/n outside the walls of the kingdom and was seen to about it be attached by a Dire Creamwolf and when dark cacao cookie rushed to defend y/n, he was confused seeing the Dire Creamwolf on its side resting it's head on y/n's lap like some kind of lap cake hound would but this was a vicious beast who has attacked cookies before but now is acting like a cake puppy to y/n? He is curious about how y/n does this so easily to all animals on earthbread.

(Thats it for my little yap session. Hopefully you you guys like it! If you do please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[specialgradefckr]

Anything you can do...

And what's so special about Satoru Gojo anyways? The way Satoru sees it, there's nothing the original can do that he can't. You shouldn't care about him anymore. You shouldn't care about anything but him.

This work is a part of a series! Read the first part here!

tw: explicit content. dubcon. drugging, captivity. selfcest. feet. yanderes all around. non-consensual cloning.

Gojo has one mission when he gets to you:

Clear his good name and prove to you that the "Satoru Gojo" who'd fooled you was actually a fraud.

Sure, you probably should have known from the beginning, being as obsessed with him as you were, but he had rejected you, and fixations can turn people to dark places.

It was probably all too easy for this phony to march into your life and convince you that all of your dreams had come true; Satoru Gojo loved you after all.

In a way, he feels kind of sorry for you. Really, he was about to break your heart for a second time. It's not even your fault! He himself could admit, the fake is shockingly compelling.

But you'd be devastated, truly. What a shame. To learn that all that love you received was from some stranger, a liar. That the man you desperately adored didn't really want you back.

Man, that's gonna suck for you! He tilts his head back, whistling as the car drives along.

Though he's still not really relationship material, he could probably stick around for that pity fuck. After all, you hadn't been ignoring him on purpose.

No; the reason you were ignoring him was because "he" was telling you to!

It was the perfect cover! If this guy was going to steal his identity, the number one threat to that was him - the real Gojo.

He'd probably intentionally told you to send those videos, only to laugh when you showed him the replies, and then explained that wasn't the "real" him.

The little faker must have even convinced you to keep sending them as a joke.

Then, if Gojo tried to tell you the truth, you'd just brush it off. And if he got pissed off from your messages, he might refuse to tell you at all - a win-win for the fake.

Smart. Of course, he'd probably have to be a little smart to fool you in the first place; his intelligence was one of his best traits. No way you'd mistake someone for him without it.

The car rolls up to your weirdly secluded, distant home. Kinda a pain to get to, honestly.

But it's worth it. Because if Gojo knows anything about that fake... he's probably watching right now. Who wouldn't, when Satoru Gojo was involved?

He steps out, taking time to stretch, let out a deep breath. A wide smile on his face as he stalks forward.

This is going to be fun.

What the fuck was this clown doing on your doorstep?

Satoru squints at the porch camera. Mostly just in annoyance, because he doesn't need to squint - six eyes and all.

Even then, it's hard to believe.

Not that Gojo was jealous and wanted a piece of you, now that he realized that he was missing out. That went without saying.

No, Satoru is shocked that he has the audacity to show up on your doorstep after turning you away. Rejecting you. Like he was drowning in genuine human connections and could afford to toss one out... ugh.

Even thinking about this guy feels gross.

"Go away."

The PA system is talking... in his voice. Which could be the phony, but also, you were probably obsessed with him enough to make a PA system that spoke exclusively in his voice.

Heh. You probably had it talk you through touching yourself, too, at least before the faker came around -

"So you're deaf, but I know you're not blind. DOOR IS CLOSED. GO AWAY."

A frown. "Well, that's not very nice of you."

"Oh, so you can speak? Well, shut up and leave. Loser."

Wait, no. No way this creep is calling him a loser.

"You want me gone that bad, huh?" Gojo slinks up to the doorway carelessly, ready to blast the handle open, "Gosh, must have something you reeeeaaaaally wanna hide, huh?"

"Typical." The PA system complains while he busts the door down, "Self-centered asshole doesn't know when he's not wanted. But that's just another day for you, isn't it?"

He pauses. "Wow. You know a lot about me. I didn't know I had two stalkers on board~"

There's an audible snort. "This is why you have no friends."

"I have tons of friends!" Comes Gojo's protest as he glances around the living room.

"Your students aren't friends, and they don't like you."

"Yuji likes me," Gojo strides quickly down the hallway, glaring with his six eyes for signs of life in the building, cursed energy.

"Yuji likes everyone. You also have no life."

The grin on his face turns sharp, wicked. "I have more of a life than you do. Taking on someone else's identity. Pretty scummy way of getting a girl's heart, don't you think?"

There's a pause - it's good to know he's shocked the phony into silence.

"You..."

Closer, now. He can see it! The cursed energy is concentrated, just inside this room -

And it's -

It's -

Him.

It's him. It's - it's Satoru Gojo, staring right back at him. The six eyes in the mirror. Only it's not a mirror, but a real, living person.

This is where Gojo decides he must be in a dream. Or a domain. Maybe you activated a secret curse technique? And this is a manifestation of your desire for him?

"...even hear me. Hello? HELLO? Stop staring and get the hell out of here. You'll wake her up."

Huh.

It's like he's talking to himself. It's him.

"How are you..." He trails off, tugging down the blindfold as he gesturing to the man across from him, "Your eyes. You have my eyes."

"You have my eyes, actually," Satoru answers without missing a beat, "I was here first."

Of course, he absolutely was not, but Gojo doesn't know that.

Gojo is pretty sure this guy is lying.

"Here first? Like, born first?" He glances down, catching you on the sofa, laying down, head in the other-Satoru's lap. "I got a twin brother I don't know about?"

No way the Gojo clan would be able to shut up and keep a secret like that to themselves. And even if they could, Gojo wouldn't be a little brother. He'd be the older one.

"Sure," Satoru says, in a hushed tone, with marked annoyance, "Now shut up and get out of your big brother's room. She's sleeping."

And you are. But from what he can see inside your brain activity, it's not normal sleep.

"Yeah, sure. Sleeping." His voice lowers. Cools. "Are you that desperate for my leftovers? Leave her alone."

And it is piercing, the glare that hits him. Six eyes going straight through him like an icicle. His own face twisted in an anger he doesn't think he's ever seen -

It's hot. Super hot. And unsettling, and strange, and he is so, so hard right now.

"Why don't you leave her alone?" Satoru hisses as you stir, "You're so jealous you had to come here?"

"Mmm..." Your eyes flick open, and Satoru's attention is immediately ripped off him.

He brushes your hair away from your eyes, leaning in to kiss your temple with a quiet, soothing hum.

Gojo's lips purse. All those videos; this guy fucking you, eating you out, ravishing you like a starving monster, using you like a fleshlight - and none of it had made him feel like this.

Something churns in his stomach. "Answer the question. What did you do to her? What did you tell her?"

"I love you," Satoru says, still staring at your sleepy-eyed face, and Gojo feels his stomach twist.

He stares, frozen in place. Satoru doesn't even look up at him.

"...Sa...toru...?" You mumble weakly, head falling to the side as if just that phrase was too taxing for you.

"Mmm-hmm, it's me!" Satoru smiles, a warm, fond look that goes all the way to his eyes. "I'm right here, love."

Creepy. The way he strokes your hair, holds you, dotes on you like you're some kind of pet. You're barely dressed, but not in anything erotic - just a large T-shirt. Probably one of his.

It's nauseating. Intimate. Domestic.

He's throbbing.

The worst part is, Gojo doesn't know if he's jealous of him - or you.

Because fuck, that smile looks good on his face. Features soft, glowing like a sunset, faint pink dusting his cheeks. Even the six eyes look like an ocean of warmth, affection, dripping down onto you. Those hands are fine, and cupping your face like that makes them appear even larger. Makes you look smaller.

And you're so cute like this. All tiny, curled up underneath him. He'd seen you commanding, cool, demanding, in the throes of pleasure, and unraveling; delicious, every time.

Not like this. Curled up and docile, nuzzling into his touch like a sleepy kitten. Leaning into him like an anchor, seeking out contact as naturally as you breathe. He feels sick with want.

"What did you do to her?" He says. The words sound out of place in this room, unwelcome in this sanctuary, "Drugs? Cursed energy?"

"Eh. Little bit of column A, little bit of column B. What's it to you?" Those eyes gleam quickly up at him, "This is your leftovers, right?"

"Please. She's clearly not over me if she's sending me your little sex tapes." Gojo takes a step closer, pulse soaring in his ears. "And you didn't answer my other question. What did you tell her?"

Satoru glares. "So you are deaf. You were right there when I said it. I love you."

It's so strange. His chest twists, hearing the words in his voice.

...he's never heard those words in his voice, has he?

"Not what I meant," Gojo skips over the issue entirely, "Did she find out that you're not me? Is that why you had to drug her?"

Satoru blinks his big blue eyes.

Silence.

He blinks again.

"You think-" A hand reaches up to Satoru's shirt, tugging, and he's looking down again, "Awh, what is it, sweetie?"

"Would you answer the damn-"

"Shut up!" Satoru snaps, pulling you carefully to sit up on his lap.

You fall against his chest limply, secured by an arm around your waist. Head tucked under his chin.

"You thirsty? Hungry? Wanna cum, baby? Just say the word." Satoru isn't even looking at him.

It's just - it's so annoying. This little shit sitting here like nothing's wrong, like he hasn't stolen Gojo's entire appearance and identity just to get with you.

He's got the fucking six eyes, and he can heal other people with reverse curse technique, and this is what he does? Fusses over you like a mother hen? Like you're the center of his world?

"You're disgusting," Gojo spits, surprised by his own vehemence. "Let her go."

You whimper and Satoru squeezes you.

Gojo watches; in horror, fascination, frozen to his spot as he watches Satoru's arm reach down, rolling up your shirt -

You're not wearing anything under there.

"Mmmhm..." You moan, lashes fluttering. Reaching up to grasp Satoru's muscled arm, weaky, while you writhe.

The sound sends tremors down his back, heat pooling in his gut.

Satoru meets his gaze with a low, knowing smirk. "Don't think she wants me to."

Gojo's feet take him another step closer. He's maybe one step away from you; two, max.

"And for the record, she's completely over you. I thought the videos would be evidence enough of that," Satoru shifts you in his lap, tugging your shirt up enough to bare your breasts, your cunt.

His hands roam your chest - they look so big on you, so wide, grasping, groping playfully over your torso, your breasts, drawing little noises out from you as you squirm fruitlessly in his lap.

His legs keep yours open. Wide.

It's dripping. Right in front of him. He feels like a deer in headlights, pinned in place at the sight of his own longer fingers plunging into your wet -

"But if you needed to see it in person so badly," Satoru drawls, and because he's closer, it's louder, lower, "Knock yourself out."

Those eyes meet him - his eyes - deep blue, intent, full of challenge -

Gojo lunges, driving his lips against Satoru's, shoving him against the sofa. You yelp, pinned between them, before Satoru pulls you closer with a hiss as he pulls away.

"The fuck are you doing?!" He glares - but his cheeks are dusted pink.

You squirm deliciously, and Gojo catches Satoru shifting behind you.

Straddling you, shamelessly, he grinds his bulge right up against you, and you moan, clenching on Satoru's fingers. He brushes Satoru's arm with his dick, too - heh. Let him see what he's packing.

Gojo doesn't tear his eyes away from Satoru's as he closes in on you, kissing at your cheek softly, "Is that true, baby?" He murmurs, sneaking a hand up along your torso to squeeze an exposed breast, "You're over me?"

Satoru's arm - the one that isn't fingering you - shoves at him, but Gojo doesn't budge.

"Come oooooon," He croons, nuzzling into your cheek as he holds his gaze, "You're not afraid of a little healthy competition. Are you?"

Close, closer - until their noses nearly touch. Until Satoru can see his eyes glitter with challenge.

"As if," Satoru rises to the bait, just like he would in his place. "I'm worried you don't know how to touch a woman. Seriously, not sure if you ever have."

He doesn't hesitate. He reaches straight for Satoru's dick - oh, it's long, hard, just as proud and pretty as in all the videos.

Just like his. Twitching as he tightens his grip.

The grunt he makes, face wincing in pleasure-pain; it's a familiar feeling to him, too.

"Awh, worried about little old me?" His smile bares teeth, "You're too kind."

He squeezes, drawing his hand up along Satoru's dick, watching his own handsome reflection tense in what he knows is mounting pleasure, a heady throb in his gut that always surges as he squeezes tighter at the shaft.

"Straight for the dick? Guess that's the only thing straight about you. Or maybe you're just that self-obsessed," Satoru taunts, as if his own dick isn't pulsing at a touch so like his own. "Just keep your hands off her."

And that last demand sends his gut churning. Something in him is enflamed.

He burns for it, for Satoru in front of him, possessive and beautiful, for you, delicate and treasured, for this thing between the two of you that magnetizes Satoru to your side and turns you to putty in his arms.

He wants. He wants he wants he wants and Satoru Gojo is not a man accustomed to being denied.

"Nah," Gojo nuzzles into your neck, sucking, nipping, watching Satoru's eyes linger hatefully on the mark he leaves, "I don't think I will."

After all, he's got to prove him wrong, right?

You're barely conscious most times Satoru wakes you.

It's not bad. At least you don't think it is, with your limited capacity to think.

The feeling is similar to being very sleepy, or very drunk. Half-stuck in a dream, only vaguely aware of your surroundings and what's going on.

But it doesn't matter, because Satoru is a diligent nursemaid. When he wants to be, anyways. When you need him to.

He brings you food, water. Feeds you, helps you sit up and drink. Distantly, you realize everything is probably laced, but it's all properly dosed, you're sure.

Otherwise you wouldn't be able to think this much. In these hazy moments when you can recognize what's happening.

So when you see another Satoru in the room, despite the warm body against your own, the breath on your neck, the arm around your waist - you aren't immediately worried.

Now, though?

Now you're a little bit worried.

"Who..." Your question falls seemingly on deaf ears as Gojo tilts your head to the side, sucking a mark into your neck.

It doesn't hurt, but Satoru's fingers curl tight inside you, his thumb brushing your clit, and you whine.

"Shhh, baby," Satoru murmurs from behind you, into your ear, "You worry too much. Don't worry, just sit back and enjoy."

"Oh, so now she's your pillow princess?" Gojo hums, "Big change from being her little slut locked up in a cock cage."

A scoff, cool against the saliva-slick skin on your neck, "Jealous much? I have someone who wants to make me feel good."

Satoru's fingers slip out of you, and you let out a breath, reaching up with your arms against the chest in front of you.

"Bet she wants to make me feel good, too," Pressing closer to you, "Bet she couldn't even tell the difference."

His chest is large, firm against your hands. The muscles are more defined, larger - even with the same genetics, Satoru doesn't get the exercise Gojo does - but you barely notice.

"Course she can't. She could hardly tell you her own name - not that you deserve to say it." And then a groan, "F-fuck. Let go of my dick already, you creep."

"Why, so you can fuck her?" A snicker, "You act so sweet on her, but you're really just using her to get off, yeah?"

"The fuck would you know about acting sweet? Have you ever told anyone you love them?"

There's a pause, there, where you feel the heat growing restlessly around you. Dazed, heated.

"Satoru...?" You mumble, head tilting to the side, cheek rubbing into the familiar cloud of white hair.

"...See? No difference." Gojo lifts his head, handsome face coming up to meet yours, "I'm just as good as him, right baby?"

His words are lost on you. All you can do is lean in for a kiss, lashes lowered, and feel his lips move against yours.

"Like I said," Arms, tighten around you, "Doesn't mean anything. You couldn't give her what she needed, and now you're nursing your wounded ego because I came around and did it better."

"You think?" All you catch is the sparkle of those crystal blue eyes.

He pulls away, tongue sticking out, lips still slick with saliva threading between your mouths.

Gojo's eyes catch Satoru's. "Bet I can make her cum with my mouth before you can with your dick."

"Sure, give yourself the biggest advantage," Satoru sneers, "Should I give you a ten minute head start, too, so you can find the clit first?"

Gojo slinks backwards, falling to his knees.

From your perspective, all you see is Satoru backing away from you - you whimper, reaching out weakly, voice low and longing.

It feels like a knife to his chest, looking at your face. The naked despair, the raw desire to have him back in your arms -

But it's only a moment before Satoru reassures you, kisses your cheek. Melting into his embrace comes naturally, relaxing as soon as you know your love has not left you.

It's as if you have to be touching him at all times. Like you need him the way you need air. It's cringey, codependent, but Gojo supposes that's the kind of sappy unrealistic stuff you're into.

He puts a hand on either of Satoru's knees, spreading his legs and yours.

"Up you go, baby," Satoru hums as he lifts you, and your feel his cock slip underneath your ass as he pulls you flush against his chest.

He bites his lip as Gojo snatches his cock without hesitation, guiding the head of it to slip past your entrance with a smirk.

"Could do both of you at once," He crows, "Your dick sure wasn't complaining about my touch."

And he knows exactly how to touch - to trace that weeping head with his thumb to get precum pearling at the tip, all mottled red and purple as it throbs in his hand.

"What can I say," Satoru shoots back, "You're obviously an expert. You and your hand must be so happy together."

Gojo fists his hand around his dick with a mean smile, clenching hard as he smirks up at him. Satoru bites his lip and holds you tighter.

"Baby," Satoru whispers, tilting your face to look back at him, "Cum with me, yeah? I'll tell you when, and you just gotta let go then."

"Oh, now you think she's gonna be the trained whore?" Gojo drawls, pressing Satoru's dick against your cunt. Still not inside, but enough to make you moan while Satoru hisses.

"Like you can say that," He grinds out, "You don't know anything about her."

"I saw your little videos," His eyes twinkle from between Satoru's legs; how he hates that face... but fuck if he's gorgeous, "You spoil her. Greedy little thing. She's used to getting whatever she wants from you."

Gojo's face slides up, up your thigh.

"Yeah she is, I do it on purpose. Cause I can." Satoru sticks his tongue out, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Unlike you."

Closing in on your cunt, on his cock, Gojo licks a line up Satoru's dick, enough to make him tense behind you.

"Yeah? You think so?" He suckles briefly at the trickle of cum at the head of Satoru's cock, making eye contact while he does. Unfliching.

And fuck, he looks good sucking dick. Satoru kinda wishes you had one, now... ooooh. Maybe a strap-on? Even more fun.

A slap on your thigh tugs his attention right back to the matter at hand.

"Don't make her wait any longer," Satoru lays a kiss by your temple, and you hum, "Or you can disappoint her with your shitty head game, and then put it in. Up to you, I guess."

"Shitty head game?" Hands guide his dick towards your entrance, as if he'd been waiting for the challenge.

A strangled moan escapes him as he slips into you, rutting his hips up. Open, shameless, because you're just that good. All wet and hot and clenching around him like your cunt can't stand to see him go.

It feels like he just belongs inside you. His hands reflexively trace over your cunt, your clit, where Gojo slaps them away.

"Hey, hey, no sabotage." If nothing else, Gojo does have sharp eyes.

He darts to the crest of your folds, right where Satoru's fingers had traced, opening his mouth over it.

At first he drools, taking in your scent. Those videos - the ones of your pet lookalike eating you out for hours, a hand in his hair like a leash.

Lapping, whining, drooling over you like a trained dog. Just the memory makes his dick throb. Mouth water.

Gojo spreads his mouth wide like he's seen, drawing his tongue over Satoru's plunging cock, up towards the swollen bud that seems to pulse against his teeth.

Careful, boy. Don't bite. The memory sends his hands clenching at your thighs as he devours you.

His mouth is so wet and warm it feels like it's melting over you, candle wax pressing hot into your clit as your walls stretch and stretch.

Dizzying. It's all so much, all heat swirling around you, inside you. Pleasure roils heavy, weighted, dragging you along in the surge of sensation.

He licks at your clit, all soft and perfect and it just swells like water against a dam, cresting to meet the tip of his tongue pressing into you-

"Shh, baby, not yet," Hands on your jaw, large, gentle, turning your head, "Look at me, hm?"

You do, helplessly, with a whimper, bucking into the mouth and the cock that have your insides churning.

Eyes. Pretty, pretty, the bluest eyes. "S-sa- ah - Satoru?" It comes out as a whimper, or maybe a plea, as you stare, enraptured.

He smiles and it's an instant reaction, a flutter in your chest that makes you squeeze around him.

Whatever he wanted to say is lost to a gasp, to the overwhelming embrace of your walls against him.

Satoru groans, and then he feels a wet, burning line trail up his dick as he pulls it out to drive into you again. Fuck, he's close.

"Lost all your endurance already, huh?" Gojo says, casually, mouth right next to Satoru's dick like he's having a fucking conversation with it. "Loser. It hasn't been long and you're about to bust a nut already."

And damn, he might be. There's something enrapturing about seeing his own face flushed and smug and nuzzling up to his cock like a hungry slut.

He clutches you like a living, breathing lifeline, nuzzles into your neck like it can protect him from the nasty whore's mean words.

"Didn't take long, did it? You lost all the patience she painstakingly trained into you as soon as you got the chance to stick it in whenever."

Satoru must have something in common with the dirty, filthy slut he was clone from, because those teasing words has his cock pulsing, heat building as he plunges back into the safe haven of your cunt.

Gojo watches from below, mouth gaping wide open over Satoru's cock as it drives in, out, in, out again. Breath hot over your clit, nudging it with his nose until you whine again.

Your eyes flick away from Satoru - and over to him - the same face.

You reach out a hand to pet his hair. Soft, fluffy; he rubs his head into your touch. Breath hot on where your bodies join.

"Hnnngh," His cock is straining, throbbing against the front of his pants; Gojo pulls away, lips still sticky.

Resting his head on your knee, he looks up at you - both of you - with big, wide eyes. A pout on his lip.

"Come oooon," He holds your leg, "Help a guy out, yeah?"

"You still haven't made her cum yet. Do you really wanna make it harder for yourself?"

His grin bares teeth. "Yup."

Somehow, though, he stares a moment too long into Gojo's eyes, into that flushed and fiendish face looking back up with him with barely contained need and hunger.

Satoru shifts your leg, "Come on, baby, like this-"

And soon he's groaning, his tall, lanky form jerking as your foot presses against the bulge in his pants. Satoru's foot guides yours down, down, where he grinds against it.

Gojo falls back into your joined sexes, moaning, panting, slobbering all over you both.

The original Satoru Gojo sure was a fucking whore. No wonder you were so anxious; this guy had no sense of shame, and probably no loyalty, either.

Your hands are still buried in his hair as he ravages your sex. It's so stimulating; the press of your foot down on his screaming erection, the salt of your slick on his tongue, the delicious friction of Satoru's dick pumping in and out - faster, now.

He widens his mouth to cover where his dick slides into you, sucking at the heated shaft as he purses his lips over your poor, tender bud.

"F-fuck," Your voice is broken in your throat, heart racing, it just feels so good, pleasure surging from your tightly wound core, "S-satoru-"

Satoru feels you clenching and squeezes for dear life, "Come on - you can hold - hold it-"

But the words escape him; as he, too, winces, choking on his own pleasure. Muscled abs clench behind you as he finally thrusts home, burying his face in your neck and biting down.

Liquid heat surges inside you and you wail; you feel yourself clamp down, waves of pleasure rushing in as you milk him.

Fingers dig into Gojo's hair and then the pressure on his dick increases. It's so fucking hard, swollen, pulsing against the force against it until it -

"Hnnngh," The sigh escapes him, ghosting over the burning, slick skin of your cunt and the dick embedded in it.

He mouths over it lazily. Tasting your shared cum as the afterglow bubbles through him.

You're glassy-eyed, panting; Gojo watches the mesmerizing rise and fall of your bared breasts. They're marked red, but he can't tell his handprints from Satoru's.

Fuck, you really are pretty. A vision, really, in this state.

Satoru behind you is no less so, all pink and flushed and lovestruck in the comedown. His eyes haven't left you for the last few minutes, but they dart towards Gojo has he slowly begins to recover. As brilliant and blue as his own.

He could almost get hard again just at the sight. If the stupid body double starts mouthing off again, he may anyways.

"That was totally me, by the way." Eh. Never mind.

When he looks up again, he sees your neck, bruised up where he'd sucked a mark earlier. It's darker, now. Heavier.

"You're crazy," He lays a hand on your thigh, shaking gently, "I was the one who got her off. Here, we'll even ask her."

"Mmm..." You stir, slumping back onto Satoru, whose arms wrap around your chest and tug you flush against him.

"Ignore him, baby," Satoru kisses up the other side of your neck, sucking a hickey or two as he goes, "You don't need that stupid prick."

"Lucky her," Gojo hums, "I'm here anyways. I didn't see you complaining either, when I had my mouth on you."

A kick of his foot - and Satoru discovers the bulge just underneath his foot had softened. When Gojo pulls away, there's a wet stain on the front of his pants. Satoru snorts.

"You seriously just got off to sucking us both off?"

"Like you wouldn't have gotten off to the same thing."

"Yeah, but only cause of her."

Discreetly, Gojo gives your leg another shake. Your straighten, slightly, and look over at him.

"Satoru?" Your voice is clearer, now, recognition lighting up in your eyes.

"A little familiar, but I guess I did have my mouth on your pussy just a couple minutes ago," He smiles that charming smile you love so much.

But the feeling of warmth, of security, the fine muscled form behind you, the soft hair against your cheek and the mouth that sucks and gnaws mindlessly at your neck; it's unmistakably your Satoru.

There's... only one other person it can be.

"Gojo?" You squint, and he laughs.

"Bingo!" He flops down on the couch, laying his head comfortably in your lap.

Satoru groans, half-heartedly shoving him away, but Gojo's already snuggling up to you.

You stare at Gojo silently, unblinking. He catches your gaze, smiling back, winking, even, despite your expression not changing.

"Aren't you... angry with me?" You say, slowly, as the pounding in your head recedes.

Gojo tilts his head to the side. "Why would I be angry? You weren't the one sending the videos?"

"What videos?" You frown, "And no, I mean... you know." You gesture to Satoru. "The clone."

"The videos of you and - the CLONE?!"

[reversedpineapple]

Your yandere profiles are so well written! Please a blade one I beg 🙏

Ehehehe Anon, no need to beg. You ask and I shall serve, 。(⌒∇⌒。)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. I tossed so many drafts I thought I would never get this done. Maybe it’s my sleep deprived brain talking but I am pretty happy how his characterisation turned out.

─═✧═─ 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖: 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 ─═✧═─

¸.•° Yan!Blade x Reader °•.¸

TWs: Obsessive behavior, imprisonment, paranoia, unhealthy relationship, description of death, unstable partner, description of bodily harm, description of body parts being removed

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated. :D

ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ Word count: 1.9k ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬

By continuing to read beyond this point, you have agreed to the trigger warnings and to be at least of the age of 18. The author does not hold any responsibility whatsoever for your actions.

Blades infatuation is beyond understanding

For Blade to fall for you, you would need to be someone who is familiar, safe, soothing. This does not mean that you would need to know him before “the event”. In fact, if you knew him back then, he would not even look at you twice, his head now only filled with the mad whispers of Mara. You would need to be someone whom he met after all of that. Maybe you could be someone who accepted money from the Stellaron Hunters in exchange of a safe room on a regular basis, hidden from the law enforcement of your planet or an informant. Perhaps you are even one of them yourself whether your part being fighting on the front line or supporting Elio behind the scenes. Anyways, you work together with him on a regular basis. That’s the first step and I may add, one of many. Every action Blade takes is to push others away. Despite claiming to be a tool for Elio so he could finally find peace, he is very capable of feeling emotions. They mostly surface whenever he meets Dan Heng or another member of the former High-Cloud Quintet.

It’s easier for Blade to catch romantic feelings should you be a person who does not fight. It’s not impossible if you are with them on missions but it would just remind him of a certain group… well, as much as he is capable of remembering. Something is poking at the back of his mind and he does not like it. Most of the time Blade remembers something from his past; it's an indicator for his descent into madness so he avoids things like these as much as he can. Like already said, it’s not impossible, it just takes a lot longer for him to see you as more than someone he has to work with. In any case, do not try to be some overly nice person. Despite being cold, Blade is still as polite as he can muster whilst being in agony. He does not need someone trying to butter him up. Just be as normal as possible and all will be nice and well.

The man will keep his distance, that is just part of who he is. It does not matter if you have known each other for a long or a short time. Blade can’t say what it is or why it’s even there but sometimes it feels like there is a man with white hair poking through the anger and madness of Mara. During the rare times that happens, he will be of clearer mind than usual. It’s also during that time that he thinks about his current life and how to achieve his goal of peace. The closer together you grow though, the more times you will also invade his thoughts during these moments. You will not be the subject of a long line of thought, just a small sentence slipping in. When he thinks about the missions, he will remember Silver Wolf and how she mentioned that you liked that drink she saw a vendor sell. Strange… he would usually not remember things like that. Blade may repress his emotions but he is very in touch with himself. He will definitely realise that he feels more for you than the others. For him to come to the conclusion that it is romantic affection will take some time though.

When he finally does, he will not tell you anything. There are just too many things going on in his life right now for him to focus on something like that. Example being taking revenge and finally finding peace. For now. Perhaps it’s a tiny spark of his humanity surviving in his Mara struck mind but over time, he feels himself yearning. At first, it’s not much. As an example, we can take him remembering your favourite drink but now he also wants to get it for you, to see your thankful smile after seeing that he thought of you. Over time, things like that will pile up. What was once the simple urge to do something for you turns into utter devotion. Blade does not have much happiness in his life after everything that happened so when you gradually start to turn into the light of his life, he will find himself willing to exist just a bit longer if it pleases you. During all of this you won’t even know that he feels that way. Yes, Blade acts a lot closer with you than with the others, although he is still pretty silent when around you, but it comes across like something akin to friendship.

It depends on whether you have romantic feelings or not. Blade would need Kafkas help to pinpoint whether that is the case, the woman happily giving him hints since his debacle serves her as a wonderful source of entertainment. Should you not want more than companionship from him, then he will continue to act as your slightly distant friend. He just has already way too much drama in his life and does not want to add more onto that by forcing you into a relationship. There is also a small part of him that couldn’t bear it if your gaze should turn from trust to fear. If you show signs of romantic affection though, he will carefully approach you. It is to note though that Blade is not someone who would do something like confessing to you upfront. Like those kind gestures of thinking of you he will start to slowly creep more into your life. After half a year you will slowly start to realise how much more time he spends with you. Not that you mind. Despite his silent demeanour he is good company. Things that could be considered something close to acts of romantic affection slowly bleed into your life. Like when you accidentally dropped a glass and he caught it, handing it to you and holding your hand a bit too long or that one time when you were chopping vegetables and he leaned over your shoulder to see if he could help, his chest slightly brushing against your shoulder.

He gets a bit closer, a bit more affectionate with you every time you two see each other but in such subtle ways that you don’t even realise that. Blade does not call or text you casually. Whenever you meet it will be in the confines of whatever mission he has to fulfil which makes the time you spend with each other so much more precious. Blade does not want to risk getting you into trouble even in the slightest bit so he forces himself to endure, his affection growing beyond what should be humanly possible until one day he holds your waist, his other pressing a kiss against the back of your hand. In that moment, you ask yourself how you never noticed the burning gaze he only throws at you. His lips not pulling away from the skin of your hand, them slightly ghosting over it, a silent prayer expressed in a language without words. A prayer to see him and only him, to be his sun, to have pity on the man who fell so so deeply for you. Blade doubts he could continue to hang on even a millisecond longer should you turn his affection down.

From that day on, he will not hold back from showing his affection any longer. Don’t expect great poems of love from him or confessions boldly proclaimed. Blades love is silent, he never told you vocally how he feels and yet you always know. Every single action he does in your presence is to show you how much he adores you, how he would it would break and torture his mind should something happen to you. It does not matter whether the task you are doing is small or one of greater effort. The second he sees you doing something he will be there to assist you, a gentle press of his lips against the skin of your hands if at least one of his own is free. The action brings such a peace to his mind he thought to be impossible. One thing uncharacteristically he does is laying his head on your lap and enjoying your presence. Should you brush through his strands he would swear that he was the first person to be cured of the Eon of Abundances affliction, the Mara coming to a halt and his head finally clear. This is his own little piece of heaven, the sword oh so inseparable from his side leaning against your door. He dislikes the idea of fighting in your presence but he is also aware that slip ups can happen. For all he knows, a well angered security camera was able to pick his trail up this time, the law enforcement of your planet already on their way.

Good things never last. Blade is capable of suppressing the darker desires he has for you, to gouge out your eyes so only he remains in your memories, to chain you forever to his side. The last thing he wants is for you to fear him. Please, not you, not his sun in the sky but even he has his limits. Blade heard something snap when he saw the blood dripping from your body. He will not react like this should you accidentally hurt yourself, things happen after all but when someone intentionally harms you he sees no longer any reason to hold back. He will of course not act upon the darkest of his desires, the ones already mentioned but you will need to say goodbye to your life in freedom. A month later and he will tell you to pack your bags, his tone of voice clearly telling you that this was not something you could voice your opinion on. His eyes are hardened, telling you that it would not take much to tip him into a frenzy. So you obey.

In the short time, the man will have prepared a small safe house in the middle of nowhere, the furniture and layout as close as possible to your old home. There is one glaring difference though, there are a lot more key holes in the front door and the windows are made out of thick, tempered glass which are also not able to be opened widely. Blade will take good care of you, he truly does! You will never need food, entertainment is also brought to you but he will not give you tools to communicate with the outside world. Should you try to somehow trick him into giving you his phone, he will come by the next time without it. He knows the other Stellaron Hunters can handle themselves just fine so he doesn’t need to be available all the time but apparently you can’t. Why can’t you understand that the world is not a kind place? Eons trample upon human life like it’s worth nothing, he would know. The Abundance has taken so much from him and he refuses to let the same thing happen to you too. That one time you were lucky, only a small cut marring your skin but what if the next time he finds you lifelessly laying on the ground, a puddle of red steadily forming around your form?

Blade swears it’s the Mara talking, it twisting his thoughts once more but one day you will age, grow old… leave him behind… Surely you can withstand becoming a long-life species. He was able to hang on for a long time before meeting Kafka and if you should fall into madness, he would still love you all the same.

Do not copy, translate or use my work without my permission. All rights belong to the author.

[starconstruction]

Moonlit Obsession

Yandere Loossemble x Reader (SFW)

The Moonlit Kingdom was truly a spectacle to behold, a modern marvel far beyond it's age. It's older than any of your known lineage and it's certainly the spot to be if you want a good life.

The gate acted as its ultimate protector, standing over the gravel path that allowed it entry. It was painted in white, it's elegance undeniable as it turned away anyone unauthorized.

Which, would and should be you. But you know a spot.

Behind the imposing stone walls held a sheltered community, full of food, full of water and more importantly money.

You knew that it was risky, every time you slid through the auspicious pipe and into the kingdom could have been your last, but the slow stockpiling of resources you were accumulating were invaluable treasure. If you get executed at least your little group would remember you.

Now was another one of those trips, grab your darkest clothes and hope you blend in. Your hand gravitated towards the sewage system, opening the entrance while fastening your backpack. You took a reflective sigh, dashing through the acrid scent while you ran on sides of dampened concrete. Taking just enough care to not slide into the kingdoms collective waste.

Thankfully, the gross part doesn't last much longer, taking a deep breath of the comparatively clean air. Now came the annoying part, the direct way out would get you killed. Hands shakily mantling on the hole in the wall you made months ago, pulling yourself up with all your strength.

The first objective of every good heist, however short is to have a way out and a way out for that way out. You knew execution was guaranteed, what wasn't was how they would do it.

The Moonlit Kingdom did not get it's reputation solely from it's innovation, their methods were strict. Known for being cutthroat in their discipline, you've seen it first hand. Given that you had some history, so to speak. Breaking away from 5 obsessive loving dictators and robbing from them was cocky.

Sneaking to the food reserve gave you plenty of time to consider who you would try to appeal to had you get caught. You knew Yeojin, her authority laid mostly in the shadows, hidden from the newspapers but no less concerning. Hyunjin was known for messing with anyone she caught, making a public display of it which wouldn't be nice. You still remember baring witness to the last person who tried what you were doing, much more selfish in intention sure but did that matter in the eyes of the law and to them? Especially with the given history, she warned you after your first escape attempt the next would be death.

Hyeju and Gowon were much like each other, preferring to get the other three to deal with it, showing up as the showmen but not the one to draw the blow. And Vivi? Well she was straight up psychotic. You never got to mingle much with the kingdom-folk, so their opinions laid largely unknown. But there was no time to worry about that, for you had arrived. And it was time to get your bounty for the night.

Your method of choice was always the same, a small pocket knife, slide it under the lock and viola. It was done, door open. You always grabbed just enough + a bit extra for when you weren't going to be so lucky.

"Hey!" A voice boomed behind you, chills rushing down your spine, neck snapping around to face him. He looked old, easy to dodge, no need to injure those who don't need it.

"Oh shit!" You yelled instinctively, the man lunged at you, just barely missing as you hauled ass, the sounds of footsteps and chatter followed you, heart rattling your ribcage as every step felt longer and longer.

"You bastard!" The old voice croaked, the steps slowing down, and soon the only ones you could hear was yours. That was far too close, but you survived. The sigh of relief slipped out, looking up towards the moon one last time before diving into the vile sewers.

-

The guard felt vindicated, frustrated at the inability to catch you. Something about how snide it was, how you sneaked out without so much as a second thought. His fist clenched at the memories of the night replayed once more.

He wasn't going to let you get off free.

He stood in front of the council, the five girls who ran this kingdom, not just with an iron fist but with a soft grasp. Their juxtaposition brought them nothing but success, fear and happiness.

Hyunjin looked at the guard, their ire caught. Urging them to speak.

"So, there was another thief! This one got away though, slid out right through the sewers." He said, frustration evident, Hyeju seemed dismissive, eyes rolling at this pointless meeting.

"Okay? This wasn't worth our attention, so if you have nothing important to say we can be on our way." Her voice said with laced boredom.

Vivi looked towards her irked council-mate, letting her words not linger for more than a half second before speaking. "Actually Hyeju, this is so exciting! Another little thief to have some fun with!" She said with a hand-clasped giggle, the prospects of what she had planned was known by everyone else in the room and the shared sound leaked both apathy and intrigue.

Hyunjin followed up, "Oh! That's such a good idea Vivi! I say we let them try their luck again and then we catch them like a -"

"Mouse." They said in unison, Yeojin scoffed and dismissed herself while the guard looked in glee, they didn't seem to want to fire him.

"Ugh whatever, I'll be there to make sure there's no wild fires. Now I'm going to bed." Hyeju joined Yeojin while the other two schemed for a bit, Gowon sat there to temper their expectations.

-

You arrived back at the small abandoned set of huts, colonized by your squadron a few long months ago. Most of your nerves dispelled in the long trek back, the moss started to grow on every surface, claiming it's own stake in the property. Most people were asleep, save for your hutmate.

She sat on the shared bed, waiting safely for your arrival. Eyes obviously fighting against the tiredness, she stood up. "Your back!" She said with all the energy she could muster, dapping you up with a euphoric clap.

"Heya Jiwoo, I'm back in one piece." You placed the bag on the small floor panel, falling back onto the bed while Jiwoo followed.

"You seem, concerned? What's up?" Jiwoo clearly sensed your worry, turning off the weak light as the darkness provided some comfort.

"Got caught, well." You took a deep sigh. "Nearly, gave em the slip but shit..." The thoughts died out as Jiwoo brought you into her arms, her platonic affection bringing you at ease for a moment.

"Well at least you made it back, so what's the plan? Our first harvest is under way, I don't know if you saw." You didn't, rarely spending much time here.

"Oh nice, I'll probably go back tomorrow night, I'll be prepared don't worry about it." You said, closing your eyes.

"But surely you will just be caught? That is so risky Y/N... And they are almost certainly going to kill you if they catch you." Jiwoo said quietly, instinctively tightening her arms around you. The whisper of the night whirring out through the smallest gap in the windows.

"Yeah" You yawned "But it's not like I'm of any use otherwise, I'll be fine Jiwoo." Your words didn't entirely convince you, it was certainly dangerous and horrifying.

"Let's discuss it tomorrow, but I don't like this Y/N." She let the words hang as the two of you begun to drift into the lands of dreams.

-

The next night approached far sooner than you wanted, even expected. Every hour a minute, Jiwoo came to send you off. Stood outside as the two of you stood in the light rain. "Stay safe, for your childhood friend!" She smiled but it felt forced, she took her necklace off. A small silver one with a photo of you two encased in it. You've been the only constant in each other's life.

Her hands put it on your neck for you, "Good luck!" You gave a quick smile, locking her into a very very long hug.

"Why are you giving me this? I'll be fine." You chuckled against her ear, the warmth of her body fighting the cold of the night.

"I, I'm just scared Y/N... I don't wanna lose you. Not again." Her voice was shaky, your heart hurt at her words.

You'd get back, you couldn't leave her alone.

You regrettably pulled away from her hug, "I'll be fine, but don't try to commit regicide on my behalf if I don't return. See you later Jiwoo." You left, clutching the necklace one last time before you made it.

You took the same route, you've taken it so many times. But you couldn't shake that feeling of uncertainty, worry, Jiwoo was right you should've waited.

You got half way to the food reserves, someone was there, you could see them. They weren't hiding very well, you had to turn around. Abort the mission, get back to Jiwoo and try your luck later.

"Going somewhere?" A feminine voice came from behind, your vision showed you how truly fucked you were now. All 5 of them, shrouded by the Moon but their anger so evident. So palpable.

"Errr, I'm so sorry for this. I'll just be on my way." You said, taking strides towards the exit. But that dream was quickly snuffed out by a sudden grab on your shirt, freezing you in place.

"Sorry? Sorry isn't going to fucking cut it. Y/N." Hyeju's voice was venomous, unyielding.

"Look let's not be hasty..." You managed to get some words out, pushed through the endless flowing saliva.

"You don't get to make demands, not here. Not after everything, so you are going to come with us. Or I'll adhere to our promise." Hyunjin appeared in front of you.

You may be fucked, no choice but to comply, they started to walk and you followed. Or well were forced to follow by Hyeju's very forceful hand tugging you along. You kept your head straight, saying nothing. Anything could make them more angry is a gambit not worth playing.

Each step gave you a moment of reflection, one which basically came back to Jiwoo. The thought of her being alone, sure the others were still alive. But it was you two against the world, that reflection may be the death of you. As with new found courage you shoved Hyeju off of you, the sudden lack of cooperation causing her to topple over.

"Oh, horrible move!" Someone behind you said, but you were too busy taking long strides towards the gate. Being a thief came with its perks for agility, under no circumstance could you take them on. But you could run faster.

Your hands grabbed onto the freezing metal, feet perching onto the small elevated ledge. "Always so fucking persistent!" Vivi said, voice booming with anger and pride.

You lifted yourself up, hanging on the gate out of reach of everyone else. "I can give the stuff back! Y-You don't have to kill me!" You stammered out, looking down you realized how truly fucked you were. The guards on shift on one side and the girls on the other. Either way you drop a descent into certain -- and probably brutal-- death.

"You should've thought about that befo-" Vivi got silenced swiftly by the hand of Yeojin.

"We don't want to kill you Y/N! We still love you, darling just come down. You were so instrumental to this kingdom once and you can be again. Just come and walk with us." Yeojin's words felt sincere, like they always have.

You could probably make the jump, but where do you go then? They'd look for you, they'd find the camp. They'd probably label everyone as rebels.

Then they would kill them.

You had no choice to climb down.

You did it slowly, falling down into the unyielding grip of Hyeju once more.

"Come. Guards prepare the interrogation room as a backup." She commanded, tugging you along.

You six, surrounded by the guards began to walk towards the castle that had trapped you prior. You got out before and you vowed to do it again, in a way safer and wouldn't compromise the groups safety.

Hyeju's grip didn't relent, digging into the exposed flesh on your arm. Ignoring your hisses of pain that could barely be heard over the sounds of the three girls conversing in front of you.

"Oh my god! I can't believe we finally got them back, oh it's going to be so good breaking them again! Do you remember last time? Could barely even think independently! Shame it all went awry, but not this time." Hyunjin ranted, getting high on her memories.

"Oh yes! That time we made Y/N grovel for a chance to leave, just to punish them for the idea! God I can't wait till we break them again!!" Vivi joined, both of them acknowledging each other but not actually responding.

"You two! Y/N is right there, have some decency and at least not say these things right after they've came back?" Gowon scalded.

You recognized this grotesquely opulent room that you were dragged into, Hyeju's bedroom. Rich gold vomited over her desk, her pillows, her bed frames, the wallpaper. It's obnoxious presence only cut through by the black that accented it. It was her favorite color, that you learned quite quickly.

The rest disappeared, contempt to leave you alone for the night. The door shutting behind, the room immediately fell quiet for a few moments while Hyeju composed herself.

"You are back, actually back... Wow." She said in disbelief.

"I don't want to be, just let me go." You stated.

"No. Obviously not babe, I'm tired but we should talk. You used to always value our chats, compared to the intensity of others. Let's sit down." Hyeju sounded tired but normal, a welcome contrast to the insanity just outside.

She took her coat off, hanging it up in her closet as she took yours as well. "I still have your old clothes, you've not grown an inch since. If you wanna change?" you declined, opting to sit on the floor opposite her.

Hyeju's normalcy caught you off guard, she just sat there. Gazing at you, like nothing had happened and this was normal.

"So babe." The nickname made you shudder. "It's been so long ey? To think you ran away then stole from us, tell me why." Hyeju demanded.

"No."

Hyeju shifted a bit. "It isn't up for debate love, I'm giving you a chance to tell me before the others torture you for it. So how about you comply, I'll be gentler than they will."

"I'm not scared, I won't put anybody in danger for you guys..." You said firmly.

"Oh? So you are protecting people. I thought so, robbing from us to feed others? Who? Tell me." Hyeju insisted, getting off the bed to straddle you. Forcefully trapping you against her, the increased proximity making your breathe hitch. "Tell me."

"G-Get off me, Hyeju." You whimpered out.

Her hand trailed your chest, nails scratching the fabric, lingering for just a moment before deftly grabbing your necklace. "Oh? Didn't know you were the jewellery type, Vivi woulda loved to share hers." She forced it off of you, chains draping over her fingers.

"Give me it back!" You grabbed for it, missing entirely as she dodged.

"Nah, honey." Hyeju unlocked the pedant, your heart dropping to your stomach. The earlier fear returning in spades.

"Jiwoo? I always liked her, until she sprouted those words in your mind. Maybe she should suffer." Your eyes widened fully.

"No, please. She's done nothing wrong, don't hurt her." You pleaded.

"I'm in love but I am not a monster Y/N, you know this. If you don't love her I won't hurt her."

"Only platonically." That's all she needed, getting off of you quickly, taking the necklace and gently placing it in her vault. Locking it away from your eyes.

"The others would want her killed, we can not let them see that. I'll let you look at it when you desire, now baby let's go to bed. You may sleep on the floor if you wish." Hyeju offered, you knew her bed was comfortable. Really comfortable. Money does buy everything but happiness itself, but you didn't want to be next to her.

"I'm gonna sleep down here, thank you.", Shit, that came out of nowhere. You don't want to appear weak, not again.

"No problem, I'll tell the others you were compliant, here." Hyeju passed you one of her pillows alongside a spare blanket. Both black and gold like everything else.

She turned the light off, leaving you in pure darkness. Mind still far too active to sleep, you could run now. But you wouldn't get far, you'd probably get your leg broken. Hyeju took mercy on you. For now, better not test it until you are ready to go.

Would Jiwoo know? When she wakes up at dawn and you weren't there, she wouldn't do anything stupid. Hopefully. You already miss her presence, she warned you. You could have waited, didn't get so cocky.

This was all your fault.

Fuck.

You eventually got to sleep.

[mirellafanfic]

HEADCANONS NSFW YANDERE JOTARO KUJO-PART 3

(It's Yandere and NSFW content, that is. From this point on you already know what to expect. I'll be basing it on Jotaro from part four. But I'm willing to do Jotaro from part 4 or 6.Or any other character

(JOTARO HAS BEEN AGED)

He is between 19 and 21 years old

Tw: Tw: stalking, kidnapping, mentions of non-con and dub-con and other things.

Yandere!Jotaro kujo x fem!reander

HABITS

In my opinion, Jotaro in part three takes a while to accept that he is in love with you, and intimacy is not something he is familiar with. I don't think he's ever considered being intimate with anyone, sure he knows he's handsome or that people find him attractive, but it's never been something that "really interested him",And adding the fact that he's always being followed by a bunch of annoying girls (his words) doesn't help much.

When he falls in love (becomes obsessed) he gets angry at first, because it's a feeling he's never felt before. You're basically his first crush, he doesn't know how to deal with it. He genuinely tries to hate you (fails miserably) and mostly tries to distance himself from you in every way he can,But since you are on a journey with him (if you are a crusader).

(a mentality that he himself doesn't like, even though he is how can I say... Jotaro, he doesn't like to think of you in a rude and depraved way, because if you let him he would break,Especially after the events of part 3. No, no, no, no, you are not allowed to leave him)

But when he FINALLY accepts his feelings for you, and accepts that you are his (you have no choice) the most lustful thoughts begin to take shape.

I believe the more sexual thoughts would have started from a wet dream. He was having a normal dream about you (instead of the nightmares he has about the figure of Dio or something like that) but the dream stops being "cute" and starts to become weird, he sees you at the door of the hotel room bathroom, with a tiny towel around your neck, barely covering your legs and breasts. You said things like "Jotaro~ I need you", "Jotaro I need you in me" or "Jotaro I want you now!"

And from then on is when the fantasies begin, but his fantasies in the beginning are more innocent,Genuinely innocent, he imagines how soft your skin would be touching his, just the thought of you kissing his cheek makes him blush. He imagines how soft your chest is...

No!, you're pretty, you're not sexy (that's a lie, he thinks he's fucking sexy, EVERYTHING about you screams sexy to him, the Platinum star easily screams "wow" when he sees you, and he hopes you don't notice he has a huge erection (and Star Platinum too))

He's a little desperate that you're taking over his thoughts, and his dreams...

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your breasts

As previously mentioned, Jotaro really likes your breasts. Consequently, he notices that his hands have been getting closer to your breasts since the beginning of their relationship.He likes to have his hands on your breasts, no matter the size, he likes to have his hands there, if not he will be Star Platinum (which by the way he loves doing and does with a smile on his face, he's a big baby)

He likes to rest his head on your breasts, it's a soft and comfortable place. Also, as I said, he loves to suck your breasts, he likes to suck your breasts randomly.If he's not the Platinum Star, like that time he was talking to Polnareff outside the room, but he wanted her breasts, he made the Platinum Star cross the part of the room you were in and made him suck your breasts like a baby

YOUR ASS

In general, Jotaro loves the softest parts of his body, that doesn't mean he doesn't love the rest, he does but he has his preferences. In other words, his hands are often on your ass when you are ALONE(We all know that Jotaro will only show affection when you are alone, and there is also a chance that he won't show it even then, especially in part three. Later he gets better. )

He loves it when you wear short skirts, especially in his presence, or, also in the world of ideas, just beautiful lace panties that he will buy for you.

(trust me, if it depended on Jotaro you would walk around in just panties, he bought A LOT and not just panties, but also bras)

When he kisses you, his hands will be on your butt or your back. This is not a choice. He is not picky about shape or anything, for him, you having a butt is enough.

HIS FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Abdomen :

Overall, Jotaro is a bit insecure about himself, even though it doesn't seem like it, and he wants to impress you.

He is proud of the body he has (let's face it, who wouldn't be proud?), shows the effort he puts in and shows that he is a man strong enough to protect you from anything, with or without Stand.

Now, going for a more "macho" view (it's Jotaro and he lives in the eighties), he's proud because he's a man, a boy like YOUR BOYFRIEND, and you're weak compared to him. You are a defenseless young woman, he has to protect you, you are very delicate, you have to stay (trapped) at home where he will protect you like a good girlfriend.

But he is proud because it shows that he has enough strength to do any possible sexual position, he is able to give you pleasure. (He loves it when you are locking up and you put your hand on His abdomen, it makes his heart and dick swell .

Main problems:

As much as Jotaro will in most cases give in to his desires in bed. There are things he won't give up,In other words, he needs to cum inside you, to be more exact inside you.

It's a matter of possessiveness for him, he's taking you as HIS, he's marking you as HIS.He bites your neck and leaves marks all over your body, but it's not enough. He soon discovers that the best way is to cum inside you and cover you in cum.

He is territorial, he believes you are his woman and he is your man. It is a crazy need that he has to fill you with every hour he can give you - it is the best and most natural thing to do. It is the most intimate and most sacred part of him, which is for his exclusive use.

He presses you into a suffocating position, his forehead pressing against your back as he fucks you wildly, you stay like that for a long time "I'm going to cum right now wherever I want to cum?". Before you can answer he shoves it as deep as possible inside your pussy. "Do you want me to cum in your greedy little pussy? You're so tight, begging for cum""You better hold on, don't let it out of you, or I'll have to fill you up again"

When he is at the limit, his thrusts become increasingly rough and with the sperm gushing from his tip, leaving you VERY full. He produces a lot of sperm at each orgasm, which may not fit all of it your pussy.

He is obsessed with looking at her cum filled pussy, when he sees his cum dripping down your pussy he immediately uses his fingers and puts them back in, no waste here

He also loves the possibility of you getting pregnant, even if it's not right now he still gets excited about the possibility, a man can dream. Even if you don't get pregnant he likes to dream, he would be so happy if you got pregnant. You would look magnificent!

Markin

He likes to mark you as his, he wants everyone to know who you belong to. If by chance you try to hide the hickeys, bites and handprints on your body.Whether it's makeup or a piece of clothing, he asks (orders) you to take it off, or if not, he takes it off himself.

"Jotaro!" You said a little angrily to your boyfriend "Could you please give me back my coat and my makeup?" He doesn't answer it seems like he is ignoring you "I need to go out and I have to hide those hickeys you left!"

"No," he answers seriously, "What do you mean?" "My hickeys suit you."

Favorite position

Any position he is dominant and he can see your face

Fantasies

Anything related to water and lingerie

What he wouldn't do

He would never hit you or humiliate you, or say anything that could hurt you psychologically or physically.

[prefix-and-suffix-remove]

Hello

My old introduction message was not very good so I’m gonna do a new one.

But first off, don't send me donation asks. I do not have enough money or a big enough following to where it will help you, and the only thing it’s gonna accomplish is making people feel bad without actually doing anything. If you send one, it will be deleted.

Hello. My name is AroaceGarlicBreadLover/AceLoverofGarlicBread but you can also just call me Fabbe, I am an INFP aroace, and this is my blog where I will primarily talk about aspec stuff, but possibly other things as well rarely. And even though this blog is primarily intended to be for aspec people, basically anyone is accepted here as long as you don’t discriminate against others. However, I mostly direct all my posts at aspec people (Such as most of my polls being directed at aspec people specifically and having one option for non-aspec people in general), so you may feel a bit left out if you’re not.

https://en.pronouns.page/@GarlicBreadAAAAA

I am an introvert, and not very good at being social and talking to people, so i may be a bit awkward to talk to and I’m not very self confident so I often change my mind instantly after posting something and delete it right after so if you see me having posted something and then it’s gone, that’s probably why, and if it’s not deleted then I have most likely edited the post several times (Such as this entire part being something I put in after posting this)

This I tend to write very long messages very often to make sure I convey everything I wanna convey, so sorry about that.

My interests outside of mentioning that I’m aroace every 5 seconds are mostly writing stories, Playing Minecraft (Mostly being in fan-made life series if you know what that is, but it’s pretty niche so I doubt anyone will), and anything related to Undertale/Deltarune (I love UT/DR so much, I am absolutely obsessed with it), including AUs and such, and I’m also interested in just playing other video games as well, but Minecraft, Undertale, and Deltarune are my favorite ones.

I am openly Aroace both irl and online, so basically everyone who knows me pretty well also knows that I’m aroace at this point, although no one except my close friends and such in my school knows, as some people there are a bit queerphobic. I live in Europe.

I am okay with suggestive jokes and stuff like that, but only from other people who are also minors. People that aren’t minors can still follow and interact with me, but then don’t make suggestive jokes please.

Hope you have a good time here!

LORE (Not really):

I have 3 worms thanks to i-give-worms

I have also have giant orange fuzzy worm pet

I have an apple

I also have too many kiwis - 502

I have a curse where all my Garlic Bread also contains onions, but it can be fixed by using silver plates

I have a strong shield that repels kiwis

I was given 5 nekomimi (Which means with cat ears if google didn’t lie to me) kids, named Karl, Max, Jerry, Tom and Hajime. I am not prepared for children but yeahh… when they grow up I’ll put them in my Garlic Bread factory or smth. Apparently they go crazy over cat nip…

I have a really big box of garlic chicken tenders

I have a spray bottle

Selling hoodies with silhouettes of purple bats!! 8 left in stock!! They cost 2 Garlic Bread each!!

I have a skeleton skull that seems to possess the ghost of a French sailor

I have a snek and a birb :D

----

101 suffix gone

2 prefix gone

Hello

My old introduction message was not very good so I’m gonna do a new one.

But first off, don't send me donation asks. I do not have enough money or a big enough following to where it will help you, and the only thing it’s gonna accomplish is making people feel bad without actually doing anything. If you send one, it will be deleted.

Hello. My name is AroaceGarlicBreadLover/AceLoverofGarlicBread but you can also just call me Fabbe, I am an INFP aroace, and this is my blog where I will primarily talk about aspec stuff, but possibly other things as well rarely. And even though this blog is primarily intended to be for aspec people, basically anyone is accepted here as long as you don’t discriminate against others. However, I mostly direct all my posts at aspec people (Such as most of my polls being directed at aspec people specifically and having one option for non-aspec people in general), so you may feel a bit left out if you’re not.

https://en.pronouns.page/@GarlicBreadAAAAA

I am an introvert, and not very good at being social and talking to people, so i may be a bit awkward to talk to and I’m not very self confident so I often change my mind instantly after posting something and delete it right after so if you see me having posted something and then it’s gone, that’s probably why, and if it’s not deleted then I have most likely edited the post several times (Such as this entire part being something I put in after posting this)

This I tend to write very long messages very often to make sure I convey everything I wanna convey, so sorry about that.

My interests outside of mentioning that I’m aroace every 5 seconds are mostly writing stories, Playing Minecraft (Mostly being in fan-made life series if you know what that is, but it’s pretty niche so I doubt anyone will), and anything related to Undertale/Deltarune (I love UT/DR so much, I am absolutely obsessed with it), including AUs and such, and I’m also interested in just playing other video games as well, but Minecraft, Undertale, and Deltarune are my favorite ones.

I am openly Aroace both irl and online, so basically everyone who knows me pretty well also knows that I’m aroace at this point, although no one except my close friends and such in my school knows, as some people there are a bit queerphobic. I live in Europe.

I am okay with suggestive jokes and stuff like that, but only from other people who are also minors. People that aren’t minors can still follow and interact with me, but then don’t make suggestive jokes please.

Hope you have a good time here!

LORE (Not really):

I have 3 worms thanks to i-give-worms

I have also have giant orange fuzzy worm pet

I have an apple

I also have too many kiwis - 502

I have a curse where all my Garlic Bread also contains onions, but it can be fixed by using silver plates

I have a strong shield that repels kiwis

I was given 5 nekomimi (Which means with cat ears if google didn’t lie to me) kids, named Karl, Max, Jerry, Tom and Hajime. I am not prepared for children but yeahh… when they grow up I’ll put them in my Garlic Bread factory or smth. Apparently they go crazy over cat nip…

I have a really big box of garlic chicken tenders

I have a spray bottle

Selling hoodies with silhouettes of purple bats!! 8 left in stock!! They cost 2 Garlic Bread each!!

I have a skeleton skull that seems to possess the ghost of a French sailor

I have a snek and a birb :D

[simpy-simpers]

Day 9! Together

Oops! Tripped and drew them

also screw the order of the prompts I do what I want WHEN I want (I have 'Shadows' sketched out but I don't want to do itttttt, same with 'Memory')

Probably gonna end up drawing all the prompts across the summer because I'm slow asf. Anyway, take the boys.

RAHHHH ok ok ok I really want to go to bed so I won't say much but I'll finish typing out what I've got.

So far, the daycare closes around 7pm for everyday guests, certain memberships will have different perks and employees can even leave their children there during their shifts, and if their shifts go past 7 pm then just one of the attendants will take over blah blah blah.

Past 7pm Sun and Moon swap out, one going to take rounds and the other watching the children (if there are any). During the Raves and parties, they're multipurpose. Sun loves handing out snacks and drinks (he has a chip scanner in his palm!! So when he grabs people's fazwatches or cards it can charge depending.) Moon usually acts as both a waiter and security.

Sun and Moon are NOT the only waiters/security. There are staff bots everywhere, and Sun and Moon are only really for public attention and appeal. Sure you get to see the Glamrocks and have the time of your life at a rave... but you also get to get a photo and have a conversation with the beloved daycare attendants?? You bet people will come for that.

They don't appear at all of the shows, but they'll be there for a good amount. They do not (usually) perform on stage.

Sun and Moon were almost scrapped due to their AIs jumbling together, but Parts + Service (P+S) figured that if they separated the code enough, that it would eventually sort itself out. It did not!!! They are not ok!!!

Say you take two containers of marbles and mix them together. You can eventually pick them out, right? It may take a second but it works. Now say you have blue and orange marbles in a pile, and then you pour two types of sand on it, blue and orange again. All the blue, marbles and sand, is Moon, and all the orange is Sun. You can sort the marbles out just fine, but that sand is near impossible to fully separate.

As such, they've mixed in little ways.

Sun is equally as aggressive as Moon, and Sun's crippling anxiety got spread over both of them. They did get separated in the remodeling and remaking of them, causing for a lot of.. adjusting. They can't charge alone. It scares them. One would sit with the other while they charge, but their batteries suffered until management made the cords longer to allow them to 'sleep' right by eachother. Their internal monologues are connected, they say their heads are 'too quiet' without the other.

I remember being obsessed with these guys when I was like 14, and I still remember the characterizations I had given them. Keep in mind the art above is not terribly accurate!!! It was a bit rushed.

Anyway, if anyone would be interested in a dca reader fic (Same style as my other Fic) I'd honestly write it. It'd probably be up to interpretation whether you want it to be romantic or platonic (IF I ended up writing it). I'd have a basic plot in mind, but it'd mostly be centric around just watching their shenanigans. That, and finding burnt antique robots with ungodly resolve.

Anywho! I'll be off to sleep. Again, feel free to ask any questions, I really don't mind.

Stay Simping yall!

[eternal-pie]

Stupid Pt.4

Shinso x reader

Your POV is already in the works :>

Disclaimer: there are some sexual themes near the end, only in discussion though.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

——————

You haven't been denying it.

.

.

.

OKAY!

Clearly, there has been a disconnect between you both, that Shinso wasn’t aware of. His bad, it happens.

It’s just a silly little miscommunication, it’s fine, no big deal.

Your unhelpful responses to his questions about why you haven’t been denying it don’t bother him!

Panicking? What panicking? Shinso watched his closest friend and confidant, indirectly tell people they're dating him, and is keeping him hopelessly trapped in a limbo of possibilities and dilution as to why. Everything is fine, HE HAS NO REASON TO BE PANICKING.

Panic? Hah he’s never heard of that.

Seen? Touched? Tasted?

Never.

Hitoshi is, has, and always will be a shining example of mental stability and rational thought.

I mean come on just look at him, does Shinso look like he’s ever had a panic attack?

RHETORICAL QUESTION!

This is clearly another one of your empty headed moments or another ploy to frustrate him… And yet.

He can’t stop himself from overthinking it, what if you do feel more for him, or you guys were dating and he didn’t know?

He knows these thoughts are off the map of possible reality, but all this dating talk and playful banter and guys hitting on you has been forcing Hitoshi to consider things he hadn't before.

This is also stupid. Shinso is supposed to be above petty teen drama, separate from all this. A passive observer, laughing at how illogical everyone else is being.

Hitoshi is logical and objective and unattached so why does he care so much? Why is he floundering around like some hopeless teenage boy with a….

Emotional attachment.

Worst of all, is how nonchalant you are about it all, that this might mean so much more to him than to you. He hates that you have the power to make him spiral like this.

No, Shinso refuses to be trapped in some stupid “will they won’t they” He’s a mature and level headed guy, training to fight villains and be responsible for people’s safety, he’s going to do what any mature and responsible person would do, talk about it.

After arranging a meeting for that night in his bedroom, Hitoshi isn’t ashamed to admit he’s a little relieved that you seem to feel just as nervous about this conversation as he does, If your sudden loss of attitude is anything to go off of.

He will also admit that it was a bad play on his part to arrange a stressful evening meeting early in the morning, leaving the two of you to dread and overthink all day.

And overthink Shinzo did, he immediately notices you avoiding him all day, not that he’s upset or anything. any conversation you had would be unbearably awkward with the quickly approaching conversational elephant, looming over the both of you.

Without you around Shinso started to remember how alone he was most of the time. it bothers him a lot more than it did before. He hadn’t been lonely like this since he was little, and that feeling only seems to make him dread and worry more.

It felt like he spent the entire day running in mental circles, mostly away from the thoughts he doesn’t want to consider.

Do you get lonely without him?

Does being around him make you happy?

Just calling him your friend hurt the same way

Is this all you want?

What is he gonna do if it is?

None of that matters, not really it’s all just a stupid fantasy anyway. Shinso knows the answer to those questions. He shouldn’t project whatever weird obsession he’s developing on you. You deserve better than that.

Better than him and whatever this weird “first real friend” crisis is.

Ignoring all that, Shinso thinks he’s ready for this conversation. He’ll simply tell you the impression you’ve been giving people and you'll realize your mistake, then the two of you will laugh at how ridiculous the prospect of you dating is and things will go back to the way they were before.

You don’t seem to share his confidence when you finally enter his room. Your spitfire words and do what I want attitude are gone. Like you’ve been stripped bare, nothing but vulnerability left behind.

As he closes the door behind you. You just stand in the centre of his room, watching him. You don’t make eye contact, keep your arms tucked close to you, like you’re hoping you won’t notice you if you make yourself small enough, you look like a child waiting to be scolded.

It occurs to Shinso that you might think he’s mad at you. with a sigh he sits on his bed and gestures for you to join him. It takes a moment, but you do, sitting on the very edge of his bed, as if you fully intend to dash out of the room if given the chance.

You were afraid of him, weren’t you?

The thought sends a pang through his chest, but he ignores that too. That’s a good thing. It means you’re finally thinking logically.

“So.” Where should he begin?

“So?” You sound unsure, glancing up at him for only a second before staring down at a thread on your sleeve you’ve begun to pick at.

“I’ll start by saying I’m not mad at you.”

Your head falls into your hands as you let out a groan. “God this is humiliating.”

Humiliating?

People thinking you’re dating him is humiliating?

Absolutely! That's why you’re having this talk, dating would be humiliating. for both of you. Hitoshi is glad you’re both on the same page.

“Listen, you don’t have to act like you’re OK with this. I shouldn’t have put you in a position where you had to consider all of this so suddenly, if even at all.” you’re starting to speak faster now, and your voice is becoming more and more strained. “The rudeness and trying to make you jealous, and the rumours never should’ve happened before I talked to you. It was all stupid and I was too embarrassed to be upfront with you.”

“I’m so sorry this is how you find out I like you Hitoshi.” you’re almost full on crying now. As you finish, you peek out from behind your hands at him, trying to gauge his expression through your sleeves as well as your tears.

It’s clear you’re very vulnerable in this moment, raw and overwhelmingly insecure, looking to him for even a crumb of reassurance

And all Hitoshi can do is sit there, stunned, eyes wide, and mouth no doubt, gaping open like a cartoon character.

You liked him?

All the stress and confusion was because you liked him

“Oh my God.”

Is all he can think to say as relief floods his entire system.

“What?” You sound so small when you say it, Shinso can’t bear to leave you worried and vulnerable like this.

“It's just that I’ve spent almost a month confused and worried about your health and well-being, turns out, a flower and some chocolate would’ve fixed everything.”

“Oh.” Your voice is still small, but there’s an almost horrified quality to it as if you’ve just realized something he hasn’t yet.

“There's more to it, isn’t there?” The nod you give is barely visible and you beet red at this point, once again avoiding his gaze.

He lets you sit like that for a little bit, giving you time to process your thoughts and feelings, then turn them into statements.

After a while, with a deep breath, you begin.

“I'm gonna start by saying, I liked you way before any of this started.” You pause looking to Shinso as if to make sure he truly heard what you said, only continuing once he nods.

“back during midterms when this all started….” you speak slowly, as if the confession is so embarrassing. It’s physically difficult to admit it aloud. “ And there was the whole soup, brainwash, thing. Well when you did that I might have -”

.

.

“Might have?”

.

“Liked it.”

Shinso just barely understands the words, with you hidden away in your own arms and speaking so quietly he wouldn’t be surprised if you fully intended for him to not hear you at all.

“Liked it as in…. LIKED it?”

“I don’t know, maybe? It just wasn’t like that before. Maybe it was because I was stressed and tired and my back kinda hurt a little bit and suddenly it was all gone and maybe because I trusted you and I knew you wouldn’t do anything bad but it felt safe and warm and I knew I didn’t have to think or worry cuz you would do all of that for me I guess being so hollow empty full of and surrounded by nothing but you was nice And it did something changed something andI’msososorry.”

“Please don’t hate me.” You speak a mile a minute, your words are jumbled and fractured. It’s clear you’re trying to make sense of thoughts and feelings that have been plaguing you for a while.

“So your little crush started before all of this?” there’s a desperation in your eyes as you nod. “And you’re not in love with me because of my quirk, this isn’t gonna be the core of our relationship?”

“Oh god no, not at all. I would hope you know you mean so much more to me than that, Shinso!” you sound almost insulted or maybe horrified by what he is suggesting.

“Then I don’t mind. Even without my quirk, I’m mostly telling you what to do all the time anyway, right?” relief seems to flood the entire room, the both of you visibly deflating.

flopping back on his bed Shinso suddenly feels exhausted, and this time you don’t hesitate to follow his silent beckon.

“Any other freaky fetishes I might need to know about?” Shinso’s voice is light and jovial. The comment stirs a laugh from you both and earns him a smack from you.

“Don’t call it that, plus if it’s really that bad, then doesn’t us dating say a lot about you?”

As the two of you lay together, shifting around trying to get comfortable Shinso can’t help but chuckle at how this all could have been easier if you both weren’t so stupid.

———————

Ya happy ending, u hope you enjoyed it. If you like my writing style and wanna request something or just wanna ask about my writing please do, I’d love to hear from you.

———————

@x-reader-reblog-station

[littlestuffstohide]

Phoenix Wright HC

Part 1 HC

What I just crave right now is maybe share an Edgeworth-Wright-Fey Family through the 7 year gap being family oriented. SO here I have a long headcanon series post on Phoenix during the 7 year gap. Mostly Phoenix coz he's my fave.

Just Phoenix being a dad. Burning cookies. Learning to cook because he is now a dad. I am PROJECTING but I firmly believe Phoenix had to budget everything. From food, daily expenses, medicine, Trucy's school supplies, Phoenix's therapy (because Edgeworth would not stop honking on him. Phoenix insists on paying him partially despite being on Edgeworth's dependent list. No, he will not drink BECAUSE he needs that money elsewhere.

Phoenix did tend to eat lesser which drove Miles and Maya nuts. The man does not need diet. He is UNDERWEIGHT! They've been trying their utmost to fatten Phoenix up (Phoenix's words). With an ongoing bet to drive them. So the moment they found out this money strategy of Nick to save money, they both are so frustrated and upset for many reasons and am even more determined. Miles creates a report or power point for every debate Miles will have with Phoenix on this. Maya got Trucy and Pearls involved to ensure Nick eats 3 times a day. When Edgeworth is in LA or when he drags Phoenix to another country, he makes sure Phoenix gets his food even if had to drag him kicking and screaming. Phoenix was no Franziska. It was no contest getting him to eat despite Nick's bitchiness. Edgeworth made it his goal to bring him not only to a 5 star (because he wants to spoil that MAN) but also realized that brining Phoenix to an affordable but delicious place worked like magic. Phoenix did not see that coming. He only realized far too late when Edgeworth is not in LA and he is craving for a certain European or Asian cuisine he ate with Edgeworth in a restaurant.

Maya's strategy is to bully Phoenix into treating them mostly. Dinners also consist of Maya and Trucy slyly piling food onto Phoenix's plate but he can't complain. Pearl's will look so upset if Phoenix tries to skip on any food, ready to punch or kick her Nick for being ridiculous. Maya just straight up bullies Phoenix if he tries to contest not being hungry. Edgeworth gives him the eye, lectures him until his ears bleed if he doesn't eat! If that doesn't work, Miles threatened to bring the one famous restaurant chef to Phoenix once which made Phoenix concede. Pearls makes sure everyone gets to eat their veggies. She will lecture everyone who avoids being healthy - and Phoenix being the worst offender next to Maya, would concede since he is weak to a determined Pearl. Somehow Franziska got involved because of Maya and Miles rantings. She sometimes shows up, out of the blue to get Phoenix to eat properly, driven crazy by Maya and Miles endless topic. There is no escape for him.

He is hell no to a lot of modern appliances and stuck to traditional cooking. Meaning he'd use the stove. If he's really desperate, he'll do charcoal cooking - as he could not afford to order gas to the displeasure of his neighbors. This man could not be stopped. His neighbors pitches if he ever comes to attempts charcoal cooking. A trade off was to attend a neighbor thing and cook for everyone and yes - he does not have to spend a dime. He cooked rice traditionally versus a rice cooker. Learned a lot of cooking. Chinese food, Japanese cuisine, also German cuisine because of Miles. It doesn't help that Miles brings Phoenix to a lot of European countries. And when Edgeworth treats him and Trucy, Phoenix back at US is driven crazy half the time of the food he tasted there and with the money issue, he just obsessed at one point to cook that food he tased in Germany or what country Miles brought him to.

Phoenix is, when stressed, stress bakes. Lots of sweets. And they all look absolutely adorable. His cookies are sometimes steel samurai or whatever Trucy is into. It's so artsy.

[lesb0]

Looking at Leonardos this morning.

In the Last Supper, Leonardo identifies Judas by Othering him. At a table of 13 Europeans, all reacting differently to the announcement of a traitor, Judas' dark skin marks him as someone suspicious, which draws the eye to his tightly clutched money purse.

I'm also interested in the feminized, beautiful John figure. Even though the plaster and pigment has mostly crumbled off, we can still see that Leonardo represents him as a Western/Northern European with white skin and dark blonde curls (likely the model is Leonardo's life partner and assistant, Salai). John is a strikingly pretty feminine boy, which also emphasizes the semi-open sexual homosociality culture of the Dominicans at the monastery wall this was made for, pre-Savonarola. John also visually parallels in contrast the darkness, beardedness, and overt Arab-ness of Judas, even though they are ALL Palestinian Jews. Leonardo spent much of his life compulsively obsessed with scientifically defining and artistically capturing dark/light, but this also reflects social trends in Renaissance Italy. Along with the Ottoman Empire's rising military aggression, the increasing diasporas of Arab Jews, Muslims, and few Zoroastrians settling Rome, Venice, and Florence caused some Italian anxieties over how culturally different their religions and homosexuality policies were. Though some humanist families like the Medicis embraced and invited Arab scholars like Leo the African as part of their courts, others weren't so welcoming.

It's interesting to see the dichotomy between "good" Jews becoming European, docile, closest to Christianity, white, and therefore trustworthy vs "bad" Jews remaining Arab, Palestinian, suspicious, swarthy, and dark therefore the Other, has been reinforced by the dominant European visual culture, and centuries before the Israel occupation ever started.

[thecreaturecodex]

The gancanagh is one of my least favorite of Pathfinder's folkloric conversions. Why? Because it explicitly and intentionally misses the point of the original. The original gancanagh (which translates to Love Talker) seduces women to death. They're basically the male equivalent of leanan sidhe, causing people to become obsessed with them, waste away and die. Their signature ability, invigorating passion, is exactly the opposite of that. I assume that that's part of what the animosity with incubi and succubi is about, is implying that various sexual demons pose as gancanaghs and that's where the bad stories come from. But I always hate the "the people who originally told this story were wrong" philosophy of monster design. I hate it when cryptozoologists apply it to Bigfootize anything remotely humanoid, and I hate it when the name of a misogynist killer is given to a capital G Good creature.

Besides which. There's a perfectly good mythological creature that is a mostly benevolent celestial being associated with love and sex and music. The gandharva of Hindu and Buddhist traditions. If I were to ever use these stats in a game, I'd call them a gandharva instead.

Monster Spotlight: Gancanagh

CR 4

Chaotic Good Medium Outsider

Bestiary 5, pg. 38

These graceful, fey-like entities are one of many breeds of Azata, the celestial natives of Elysium, and like their brethren they exist to spread hope, bring cheer, and fight Evil wherever it may arise. Like many of their kin, this involves using their at-will Change Shape to assume the form of any number of Small or Medium Humanoids, masquerading as the mundane so that they may better catch villains off-guard, or perhaps offer unseen assistance to actual mortals without revealing their true nature... though UNlike most azata, a Gancanagh (which I'll refer to as Gans or Gancans from here on out) looks effectively like a normal--albeit incredibly beautiful--human or half-elf when out of disguise, so their Change Shape is less for hiding and more for meeting the standards and preferences of their potential partners.

Gans embody all that is Good about free love, sexuality, and experimenting with one's self, and as such they are filled with righteous passion... and an irrepressible drive to flirt with just about anyone and everyone they meet. They're incredibly adept sweet-talkers who, unlike the fiendish succubi and incubi (whom they despise with incredible intensity), mean everything they say. Gans can and will hone in on the best qualities of their current targets via casual conversation, with the intention of inspiring a brief but meaningful romance, pulling people into whirlwinds of passion before breaking away and seeking new love. Rather than leaving a trail of broken hearts in their wake, Gans work tirelessly to assure their partners know that the meetings are temporary but meaningful nonetheless, encouraging them to use their experiences and experiments with the spirits to seek out true, lasting love in whatever form it may be... and sometimes, this means these alluring azata play matchmaker with everyone they bed, introducing them to one another if they think something can bloom between them.

And the thing is? They're rarely ever wrong. Guided by higher forces of passion and emotion, Gans have a knack for saying the right things to the right people... provided they aren't sauced due to their devotion to certain OTHER higher forces. Yes, Gancans are quite the party animals, frequently getting deep in their cups and encouraging others to do the same, if only to join them on the dance floor later without fear of how they look. If you can't dance without music, don't worry, as they can provide via their +13 to Perform (Wind Instruments), always carrying fanciful flutes to break out at a moment's notice to provide mood music.

Gans seem to have an oral fixation (FURTHER JOKES WITHHELD), not only preferring wind instruments, but carrying around elaborate smoking pipes and alluring tobacco blends... which typically sit unused at the Outsider's hip, are held unlit between their teeth, or get offered to other people as bribes, because a Gans' lungs are extremely Vulnerable to Smoke. This vulnerability causes the azata to take a -4 penalty against any gas-based effect, and assures that a single puff from their pipes or any other smoking paraphernalia will cause an amusing and potentially charming coughing fit, no matter how mild the blend.

So, three paragraphs devoted to their lore, but what about what happens when they fight? Well, ideally, there won't be fighting. Gancans are--and I'm extrapolating based on presented evidence here, and could be wrong--lovers, not fighters, and have a few tools to dissolve tense situations. They have potent social skills, possessing a +13 to Bluff and a +15 to both Diplomacy and Intimidate, typically enough to prevent some battles from breaking out one way or another, and if those don't work, they can use Charm Person and Suggestion both at-will to temporarily turn foes to friends... or at least keep them from fighting while there's other people still in the room.

Gancans are known to enjoy the occasional spars and wrestling matches, but when facing down foes with rage in their hearts and murder on their mind, they turn into terrifying but graceful forces. Their Grace allows them to add their Dexterity modifier to weapon attacks instead of Str, and while they can only make one attack a round, it's a painful one: 1d6+6 damage, with a crit range of 19-20. They fight exclusively with +1 mithral rapiers, not only allowing them to bypass DR/Silver common amongst fiends, but making them veritable pinatas for anyone that manages to kill or rob one! Good luck, though.

Gancans are protected by 17 AC, eschewing any armor that would prevent people from seeing their bodies and relying only on their Dexterity and natural armor to protect them, though they also have DR 5/Cold iron or Evil to shield themselves from thrown fists and other light weapons. They have 10 Resistance to Cold and Fire and are completely immune to Electricity damage, though that last one's about as unlikely to come up as their immunity to being petrified at the levels one can expect to be fighting one. Once in battle, Gancans also bless themselves and any of their nearby allies with their 1/day Good Hope, making their attacks more accurate and more damaging, while also raising their saving throws from +4/+9/+5 to +6/+11/+7!

Any creature of similar level hoping to slay one of these fierce fey-likes will also have to contend with their 1/day Mirror Image, producing anywhere from 2 to 5 additional targets to soak up whatever attacks are aimed their way. They may only be able to make one attack a round, but at low levels, the same is true for the party, letting the figments absorb entire turns from the martials in the party as the potent and accurate thrusts from the azata's rapiers carve through their HP and willingness to continue fighting.

If you think that only Evil creatures have to worry about fighting one, though, you'd be largely correct; Gans rarely fight to kill against anything but Evil Outsiders, but they're quite hot-headed and can be temperamental when insulted. Many times in history one of them has been driven to cross swords with a potential ally against Evil because that ally insulted the Gan's promiscuity, or one of their past or current partners... and sometimes these become quite serious, especially if the Gan was compared to a fiend that preys upon lust, such as a Succubus or Incubus. This insult is so grave and the fury it inspires in the azata so fierce that they often fight until the offending party is beaten unconscious, rather than just to the point of surrender.

And before we end, let's talk a little more about potent and accurate t[I SAID FURTHER JOKES WITHHELD]. At will, a Gancan can use Invigorating Passion on any willing creature with an act of passion as little as a kiss, gifting that creature a +1 bonus to attack rolls, an extra d10 temporary hitpoints, and the ability to ignore all penalties from being fatigued or exhausted. Not only does this stack with Good Hope, but the Gan can spread the love as much as it feels like... though there is a slight downside in that, at the end of the hour, the blessed target must make a DC 17 Fortitude save or become fatigued (or exhausted). This downside isn't especially impactful if the azata is nearby, as the ability has no per-day limit and no 24 hour immunity, so another round of Invigorating Passion can alleviate its own downside until the target finally lays down to rest for the day. ... and, yes, I know what you're thinking: this does indeed also cover any fatigue and exhaustion accrued during an extended night's stay with one of these legendary lovers.

You can read more about them here.