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vanillakook · 2 months

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THE BOY IS MINE ꔫ - JJK

synopsis: your big sister has a new boyfriend that you can’t wait to try

parings: jk x sister in law!reader

warnings: infidelity, reader is a heavy bitch, she doesn’t care at all, strained relationships, traumatic sibling rivalry, dom!jk, fat cock!jk, sneaking around, exhibitionism, voyeurism, penetrative sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, rough fucking, multiple positions, reader’s pussy is an OCEAN, all hyewon does is cry, reader is actually evil, jungkook is just as bad, if not worse

genre: smut, oneshot

word count: 5.4k

nothing could have prepared jungkook for the influx of strange events that would take place over the next month. his time starts as it usually does: hyewon, his girlfriend, freaking the fuck out about every interaction he’s had and will have with her family. however, something was different this time. hyewon’s usual dread of embarrassment had shifted into full blown panic and anxiety. he was utterly confused since she had never been this bad. did something happen? he was sure her parents liked him, no? why would they let them date for nearly a year if that was the case?

jungkook had come to know why on the three hour long drive to her parents lake house. after prying he had found out it was you, her baby sister who is supposedly the devil incarnate. “i’m sure this is just a normal sibling rivalry hye, baby, my brother and i are the same way.”

“jungkook,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “im telling you it’s not the same.”

she excused it when you were kids, but after a certain point of awareness she knew that this wasn’t a silly little rivalry, you hated her. despite you being younger by three years you had always went out of your way to make sure she was miserable. in your childhood years it started out as lying to your parents about her hitting you, or sneaking gum into her hair, breaking her dolls. these little things progressed to stealing her clothes and ruining her makeup products in middle school. once high school came around whatever she did you had to do it ten times better. clothes, shoes, sports, friends, boys. your parents had just seen it as a cute thing between a younger and older sister. little did your parents know that soon your behaviors turned cold with sinister intent, from ruining her friendships, straining her parental relationship, and fucking every single guy she’s ever bought home.

hyewon grew up with the same speech throughout her middle school and teenage years, even now in her 20s.

“she just admires you.”

“you’re her role model.”

“y/n has it all, have you ever thought that you’re the jealous one?”

bullshit.

your parents also weren’t shy about who was the favorite. although the two of you had done nearly every sport and form of hobby together, your awards were hung the highest, your interests were more funded, and you were taken more seriously. they insisted that it was just in her head for so many years, more like they were being heavily manipulated by you. now finally her boyfriend of 11 months was going go meet you in less than an hour to see for himself how fucked up you were.

the boyfriend that she so desperately has tried to keep away for so long. now her time was up.

hyewon was successful with that aspect for a while since you were dorming hours away at college. she successfully avoided holidays, family dinners, special occasions, all for almost a year. while she did limit how much she posted jungkook, she was never too sure with the extent you would go with things and has kept you blocked and hidden from all things him.

she could have avoided it for longer if this hadn’t been your first summer back from school in years and your parents were adamant on having the entire family together. usually you were able to make an excuse on why jungkook couldn’t come, work, family matters, etc. but everyone was to be at your family lake house for a full month, and that included jungkook.

“hye ill be there, all month. you have nothing to worry about.” he gave her thigh a soft squeeze and flashed his reassuring bunny smile.

“promise?”

“promise.”

jungkook couldn’t be more unaware about what exactly he was promising to. and as he rounded the corner and pulled into the hidden entrance and drove down the dirt road, hyewon grew more anxious and clammy. she felt her heart sink deeper as jungkook pulled into the driveway and parked. once she saw your sunglasses go up she knew she was fucked. skin tight red bikini, slurping on a melting strawberry popsicle, with her boyfriend ogling every curve of your body. she could have shot herself right there.

over the next month hyewon would watch her perfect relationship crumble to dust. if you were going to be trapped here all summer with your insufferable sister the least she could do was share her boyfriend. her first mistake was pulling you aside that night before bed for a talk. you followed her out to the patio and faced her, finally dropping the innocent facade you’re forced to have around others.

“what now hyewon?” you scoffed. “i haven’t seen you in a year and you’re already about to scold me about something?”

you were trying so hard not to laugh at her angry demeanor. “stay away from him. y/n i understand you can’t keep a man but that doesn’t mean you can help yourself to mine.“

you pouted at her, prying her folded arms open and taking her hands in yours. “but hyewonniee~ that’s not fair, we share everything, what would mommy and daddy say to you right now?” you tsked obnoxiously.

she snatched her hands away. “y/n, this isn’t the time to play your sick games. what the fuck don’t you get? i’m not asking you, im fucking telling your twisted ass to leave us alone.”

“come on sis live a little, i promise ill give him back,” she felt like she was going to throw up right into the lake beside you two.

“please y/n…” her voice cracked.

all you could do was give her that fuck ass smile as if you were clueless about every goddamn thing in the world. “i just wanna try him, no need to get fussy.”

that night at dinner she kept a close eye on you whenever you were near him. she allowed the small talk and conversations about his family and work, but was steadily getting annoyed when no one had been asking a single thing about what she’d been up to, obviously not you, not your parents, and not even jungkook, in fact her very far gone boyfriend was looking at you as if you had hung the stars and the moon with your bare hands. he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you as explained your college stories and travels. your sister on the other hand had her head down in her phone, earning a scowl from your parents and a few words from her own boyfriend.

“hyewon,” your father cleared his throat. “don’t you think it’s poor manners to not listen to what your sister has to say? she listens to you.”

“right, sorry.” she mumbled, putting her phone down to pick at her food.

“apologies jungkook, they’ve been this way since they were young. just a little squabble here and there.” your mother leaned over the table a squeezed his hand, to that he replied with a smile.

do little squabbles consist of fucking someone’s boyfriends and sending them the tapes of them doing so?

“trust me i understand, my older brother and i are sworn enemies but he’s my entire world.”

you decided to chimed in too. “hyewonnie doesn’t ever think i have anything interesting to say,” you pouted. “actually enough about me, sis how’s your desk job? still letting that old hag of a boss order you around?”

any normal boyfriend would take his girlfriends defense when a backhanded comment was made. instead jungkook, who was seated in between the both of you, pealed his eyes away from you for once and turned to his girlfriend. he was also waiting for her response to that. all eyes were now turned to her. you have her that knowing smirk, a smirk that knew since your lasting meeting a year ago, she had accomplished absolutely nothing but scoring a hot boyfriend. and even that was going to be ripped away from her shortly.

“i’m working on finding a new job.”

“work harder then hyewon, look at your sister.” ah here we go. your father was about to go on his comparison spiel. “y/n is set to graduate early after studying abroad and even has a job lined up for her after school, meanwhile you’ve been stuck at this little start up company for how long?”

“we love you honey, dearly. but it’s time to start being an adult.” your mom had delivered the final blow. hyewon stood up from her seat, fork clinging against the china plate.

“i need to use the restroom.”

no one tried to stop her, instead everyone fell back into a steady stream of conversation. jungkook however couldn’t even bring himself to have another thought other than you. he couldn’t have made his attraction to you more obvious. you were so fucking pretty, he hasn’t seen a being like you. sweet and delicate tone with hints of seduction. he wanted to feel bad for being more attracted to you than he was to your older sister, but fuck. your hair was pulled back into a neat bun and your dress had just reached below your ass. he tried his hardest to not stare for too long, but when you had suddenly dropped your fork and bent over to go get it he was in for quite the treat that couldn’t be passed up.

when you rose from your chair, slick trails followed behind. you hadn’t been wearing underwear and your pussy had been drooling all over the wooden chairs, leaving you with a pool of pussy juice in your seat. your cheeks burned, knowing his eyes were on you and your pretty pussy. he looked between you and your parents, hoping they weren’t seeing your antics so he could bask in it longer. luckily they were immersed in conversation.

“whoopsies, i’m so clumsy sometimes!” you sat down in your seat again, making sure he heard the wet plop! of your ass on the sticky chair. you flashed him flirty smile, once again starting small talk. “so you’re a personal trainer right?”

“mhm i am, you know anything about it?”

“enlighten me.”

“well it’s-“ his face dropped and went bright red at the feeling of your hands on him. your palm had sprawled out on his thigh, inching dangerously close to his hardening cock. “it’s um- it takes a while to um-“

“something the matter?” yes something was the fucking matter. your acrylic covered hand was now covering the growing tent in his pants. his girlfriends baby sister was palming his dick at the dining room table, in front of your fucking parents. “sounds like an easy job, maybe you could train me too, i’m a fast learner, and i haven’t worked out in ages…” your eyes narrowed, tone getting lower and heavier.

“hey we’re going to start cleaning up, you kiddos finished with your food?” your mom started confiscating the plates and dishes as you worked at jungkooks zipper, desperately wanting to get a look at the huge cock you were groping.

“we’re not kids mom, we’re in our early 20s.”

“oh fine fine, when your sister comes back from her mini temper tantrum tell her i put her food in the fridge if she wants to finish it.” once your parents were gone you could finally cut the small talk and get right to the point, except jungkook had halted your actions, removing your hand and holding it in his while you bit back a grin.

“what the fuck is wrong with you? do you know how much this would hurt your sister?”

“so?”

“so? are you out of your mind?”

you rolled your eyes. “oh now you wanna play moral police after you’ve been eye fucking me the entire night and almost came in your pants from my hand alone?” if he really didn’t want it you were going to back off. you pulled away completely and scooted your chair over.

jungkook leaned in closer, pining you against your chair. “you wanna feel up on my dick? go ahead sweetheart, but not at the same fucking table your parents are eating at. hyewon could walk in any second too, you really wanna risk her seeing this? risk her ending this before i get to ruin you?”

oh. oh.

“you wanna ruin me? your girlfriends little sister? you really don’t care about her do you?” your eyes lit up once again.

jungkook looked around, peering around the corners of the house to make sure it was clear before what he did next. lust was fully taken over, any thoughts of hyewon were gone, and it was only a few hours into knowing your little minx ass but he wanted to be consumed by you. his hand went around your neck, gripping it to the point where your circulation was almost severed. “i just wanna try you baby, see if i chose the wrong sister or not. and anyways, whatever hye doesn’t know won’t hurt her right? now c’mere pretty.”

the stars had aligned in that moment for you. you had jungkook right where you wanted him.

however she did. hyewon knew exactly what would happen once she left the table, it was her way of accepting defeat. as hyewon sobbed in the bathroom she knew her sister and boyfriend were exchanging more than holy words and touches. she knew how quick you worked. when it came to ruining everything she loved and desired you were always quick. luckily she couldn’t witness the vile things happening at that dining room table.

“gosh, this fucking pussy,” he landed a slap to your sopping cunt. poor baby was crying down there for some action, clenching that tight hole around nothing and pushing out more and more thick ropes of slick. “damn baby i knew you wanted this dick, but fucking hell.” he couldn’t believe how soaked you were, he knew he’d slip his cock in with ease, nothing like your sister.

“aw kook, you must be so bored with her if you feel this comfortable with playing in my pussy. look at you throwing a year down the drain.” and you couldn’t be happier about it.

“fucking tell me about it. love my baby to death but a man has needs you know?” he took another glance around before unzipping his pants fully this time and placing your hand over his fat cock once again. “hye never knows what to do with it, but i’m sure a slut like you will.”

he tugged his boxers down and you watched his angry member spring up, slapping against his stomach with a mean, red tip that was throbbing for attention. your mouth gaped open at the sight of the pretty thing. lengthy, girthy, veiny, and in need of a tight little pussy gripping around it. “make it quick and i’ll make sure to take good care of you later sweetheart.” he guided you to your knees, sat back, and enjoyed your mouth. all while hyewon sobbed her heart out a few feet away.

later that night after you were coming back from a late night jog, hyewon was ready in the living room for you. she needed to put her foot down for once. every other time was different, but this was her chance to salvage her relationship. once you stepped in the door she stood, to which you didn’t pay her a second glance. “the hell do you want? you’re stalking me now?”

“if you keep trying your luck with jungkook im telling mom and dad.”

you let out a mocking cackle as you made your way to grab a glass of water. “what are we? fucking five? maybe if you knew how to pleasure your boyfriend we wouldn’t be in this situation,”

her mouth went dry. “what?”

“oops… well cats out the bag. when you decided to go be dramatic and cry in the bathroom as if anyone cared, jungkook was very quick to say how much of a bad fuck you were.” you provoked her farther. you were younger, you were shorter, but still you loomed over her, in every aspect, in every way, of every day of your lives. “you always pick the easy ones. the ones who hate you more specifically.”

“jungkook loves me, something you’ll never experience.” she spat.

you grinned, leaning against the counter nonchalantly before breaking her heart in two. “and he’s gonna love this pussy even more. he already loves one of my holes. ask him about it.” you shot her a wink before leaving for bed.

there was still a month to go and as the weeks progressed she watched his eyes linger more as your clothes got tighter. she watched your touches get lower. she watched your hangouts go from the three of you to just you and her boyfriend. she watched how you two would talk for hours then get silent when she entered a room. she watched you press your ass up against him when squeezing around tight spaces. it was only a matter of time before she was phased out completely, but she still wouldn’t go down without a fight. jungkook was the greatest thing to ever happen to her, he was worth fighting for, she felt it, she knew it.

yet obviously he didn’t see her the same. he couldn’t care less about his relationship more than ever now since you had given him the best head of his life. now every night, just like this one, he was nose deep in your cunt, devouring you. jungkook waited until hyewon was sound asleep before he slipped himself into your room in the late hours of the night. thank goodness she picked the ones who were skilled with their tongue, because this was just the stress reliever you needed,

cumming down her boyfriends throat for the third time tonight.

“f-fffuck!” your back arched upwards from the feeling of his tongue dragging down your slit. he simply pushed you back down, using the weight of his hand to keep you there. “too much, ‘s too much koo!” you pulled at his hair roughly, making him groan deliciously. how the fuck did you taste like this? you were becoming his favorite flavor.

“oh yeah too much?” he took two fingers, plunging them inside of your cunt and watching the disappear deeper with every thrust. “so fucking wet for me doll, look at how you’re drenching my fingers.” he kept his voice low while your screams went wild. part of him even hoped your cries awoke your sister. he was so fucked up for wanting this, wanting her to see how good he fucked her pretty little sister. he wanted her to see how he fucked her sister in every way that he would never fuck her. he was sick as hell.

his fingers rammed against your g spot roughly. your mind fogged up, making your words start to come out in nothing but incoherent babbles. your body went limp from the amount of times he had dragged your nut out of you tonight. “c’mon princess, gimme one more, right on my fingers. be a good girl and cum baby, cum.”

“holy shiiiiii- awh fuck fuck, fuck i’m- jungkookk!” you whined with tears streaming down your face. with one more clench of your hole and a few more angry thrusts of his fingers you were soaking your sheets and his face. once jungkook removed his fingers you released everything he was keeping inside. he dove right back into you nose first to catch all of the creamy slick dripping from your hole. you couldn’t handle overstimulation, trying time and time again to get him away from your pussy before you came again.

“stop, stop stop- fucking hell stop!” trying to push him away was useless, you were starting to realize he did this shit for his own pleasure.

once he decided he was finished his meal he pulled back, looking up at your flustered and tear stained face. he smirked to himself when he saw your needy pussy still clenching around nothing. it took time for your body to shake off the after effects of your orgasm, but he stood by and waited for you to come back to earth. “better get back before your sister wakes up, you good mama?” he sucked your essence off of his fingers, making you lick your lips at the action.

“already? one more hour, please?”

“it’s starting to get harder to say no to you.” he laid between your legs, trying his hardest not to accidentally push against your sensitive clit. you admired him from this view, his soft features and the various piercings that graced his lip and ears. he was so goddamn handsome, you felt bad that he had to settle for your basic sister. “what are you thinking?” he chimed.

“nothing much, just about how glad i am hyewon bought you home, it’s like she just knew you were right for me.” fuck, you were twisted.

“you’re going to get me in so much trouble doll, what will your parents think of me if they find out?”

you shrugged. “they could care less. everyone knows she can’t keep a guy.”

“and i’m guessing that’s due to you?” he smirked.

you tried to fight your smile but it was useless. “i wouldn’t say that. it’s just that every guy reconsiders when they see she has a sister.”

that was exactly what was happening here now. jungkooks brain chemistry was being altered to only think of you, to only want you, and the month wasn’t even over yet. the way he had pulled away would be the reason for hyewon’s nagging every night after bed from now on. she garnered argument after argument every night in bed, trying desperately for jungkook to see where this behavior was wrong. he was too far gone by now, getting defensive when hyewon would state the obvious.

“you’re acting fucking crazy!” jungkook fumbled out of the bed angrily, snatching a pillow and extra blanket to take to the couch. “she’s your sister, do you hear yourself?” he yelled, as if you didn’t just have a face full of his cock for dessert under the dining room table two weeks ago, as if he wasn’t knuckles deep in you the night prior. he knew it was wrong, he knew it was disrespectful to do it while staying in the same house as your parents. but fucking hell.

he felt like needed you more after tasting you once. he felt sick for not even being attracted to his girlfriend anymore. he felt disappointed in himself for letting almost a year go down the drain. but you felt better than anything.

“jungkook she’s trying to steal you from me, she’s- do you not see? has she manipulated you that far already?” hyewon was on the verge of tears, lower limp trembling as she stared back at jungkook. he gave her an annoyed look and sighed, getting ready to pull out manipulative tactics of his own.

“i understand you might envy her, she’s younger, she gets along well with your parents, but when you start making shit up out of jealousy it doesn’t look good hye.” what the fuck could you have done to make him so far gone? what the fuck had you been spewing to him?

“do you fucking hear yourself? you’re defending a bitch you’ve known two weeks!” she was losing her mind, truly. “you’ve been so distant kook, you don’t hold me anymore, you barely kiss me, and it all started when we fucking got here! you told me you be on my side for this trip, mine, not hers.” her voice cracked but he still couldn’t find it in him to care.

“until you sort your hissy fit out, i’ll be on the couch.” he shut the door behind him and she could hear shuffling down the steps growing fainter. her head was pounding from all this nonsense. she hadn’t had one normal day since stepping in this lake house. her family was indifferent to her and now another boyfriend of hers was trying to convince her she was crazy. jungkook did a terrible job however, because once she heard your door creak open in the middle of the night, she knew exactly where you were going.

and she followed.

hyewon crept her way down the stairs, careful not to let anyone hear. she could hear jungkook’s raspy voice and your soft giggles, along with a very smacking noises followed after. even though she has witnessed you ruin her relationships time and time again, nothing could prepare her for what she was about to see. when she rounded the corner her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. there you were, on all fours in front of her boyfriend, with your pants pulled over your ass, and a big, heavy dick fucking you into the pillow cushions. her boyfriend, the love of her life, fucking you into the pillow cushions.

her hand flew over her mouth and she bit back tears, watching you and jungkook fuck her over in plain sight. it was over. everything she worked to salvage, it was gone. yet she couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight. from seeing how much more intimate he was with you. she flinched when he smacked your ass harshly. she needed to stop this, but why couldn’t she? hyewon was frozen in place, forced to watch jungkook give himself to you.

“shiiiiitt- pussy squeezing me baby, control that cunt so i don’t cum quick.” he pulled out, pumping your slick up and down his shaft. you wiggled your ass around, smacking it against his pelvis in desperation. you needed your cunt filled again. “calm down mama, fuck.”

“can’tttt,” you dragged. “hmph. fuck me or i’ll do it myself.” you should have never said that. jungkook pulled you back by your hair, his hand gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. your back arched in a painful way and your pussy was leaking on he cushions.

“spoiled fucking brat, think i’m obligated to fill your holes? don’t get this twisted.” he removed his hand from around his cock to smack your tits around, mesmerized with how the perky mounds looked. “making me cheat on my girlfriend, making me fall in love with this pussy. all this is your fault, now get down and throw that shit back.” without warning he slid in. the stretch was painfully addicting.

“koo! you’re so fucking big- nnnnghhh shiitt,” once you were used to the stretch you started to move back on him, when he saw your hand moving to circle your clit he yanked it back. he held it behind your back to ensure you didn’t make the same mistake again. of course your bratty ass couldn’t resist pissing him off even more and tried again. now both of your arms were folded behind you with half your face being smothered in the couch.

“you know- hmph-“ he started saying in between strokes. “one thing about your sister? she knows how to listen. trained her well. guess you need the same don’t you?” you nodded with a bright smile on your face that would soon be wiped. hyewon sobbed softly around the corner, listening to the way jungkook carelessly spoke about her. “fuck, you’re perfect. i wanna see you baby c’mere.” you were flipped on your back now, switching from one position to the other.

when you didn’t think it could get any better, jungkook dragged your legs up to his broad shoulders and he was now face to face with you. you shook your head no repeatedly, something that just provoked him more. his big brown eyes narrowed as he slammed himself into you. “ohhhhh-“ you were so fucking done for. he hit your soft spot repeatedly, abusing your mushy walls with his heavy cock. you tried keeping your whines to a minimum but once jungkook saw a certain someone lurking he wanted to hear more.

jungkook had looked up and made direct eye contact with hyewon, unfaltering eyes burning holes into her skull. he picked up his pace, slamming his hips into you and knocking the breath out of you every time. what a dumb bitch was all he could think. did she really expect him not to indulge in her minx of a sister? she trusted him to keep his composure while you were walking around in little to no clothes? pathetic. jungkook kept stroking you mainly because he knew hyewon wouldn’t do a fucking thing. she would sit right there and take it, just how you were taking him. “look princess, got a visitor.”

your head whipped around, seeing your sister trembling. if you were normal this would hurt you just as much, betraying her in such a foul manner. however, you hated her. you’ve hated her ever since you figured you weren’t the only child. you had been ruining her life forever to guarantee she would get the hint and leave the family. that was why you started targeting her boyfriends, if she kept getting them taken then naturally she would stay away. but she didn’t, and now here we were again, you wished you could say you hated to do this, but she needed to learn. after this you were going to guarantee she’d be far from not only you and your parents, but jungkook too.

“hyewonnie!” a squeal sounded from you. jungkook slowed his pace down. “god he’s so good, i’m so fucking glad you found him big sis,” your hands went up and stroked his round cheeks, running your acrylics over his skin. “after he fills me up with some babies we’re gonna get married and have a nice big wedding that you’ll never set foot on.”

blow after blow. you knew how to make her hurt.

“baby…” he panted on top of you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and pressed kisses to the sweet spot before mumbling into your skin. “no need to be so harsh, i think she gets it love.”

“i fucking hate you both. you’re nothing to me, this entire family is nothing to me.” she finally spoke.

“mhmm, right there koo, so fucking deep-“ your eyes rolled back and you tuned her out, focusing only on the sensual way you were being fucked. “want you to cum in me, fill my cunt up baby, make me a mama.” something feral snapped in jungkook. as his speed picked up his kisses became rougher, biting up and down your shoulders and your neck to mark you. hyewon watched as you two shared such an intimate moment, hating herself for wishing she was you.

“cum with me doll.” that was all it took for you to release all over his cock. plop! plop! plop! was all that could be heard once he emptied his balls inside of you. jungkook struggled to catch his breath. once he pulled out you both watched the waterfall of cum drip from your fucked out hole. he took his cock in his hand and with the tip, pushed it all back inside. “can’t let that get away now can we?”

that had sent hyewon over the edge truly. she stomped up the stairs and barged into her room, starting to repack her suitcase early. yet she was trapped. jungkook was her ride here. she could ask your parents but it was such a long drive back to where she lived. she was stuck here with the both of you for two more weeks. how was she supposed to explain this to her friends, her co workers, everyone who thought jungkook would be her final. this was the icing on the cake that made her despise you. any love she had was far gone now. she sobbed and sobbed while listening to yours and jungkooks shared giggles, hearing him run you a shower and talk the night away.

once jungkook was asleep in your bed, you stood in her door way, basking at how much of a wreck she was. she didn’t need to look up to feel your presence. “what now? what y/n? you’ve done enough and after this consider me gone from all of your lives.”

“you’re so dramatic oh god. you’re acting like i didn’t warn you.” you welcomed yourself into her room. “think i might keep him around, i actually like him. thank you sis.” your hands went over your heart.

she backed up farther onto her bed. “stay away from me you evil fuck.”

“hyewonnie, i told you from the moment i saw him, the boy is mine.”

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hopelessdazai · 6 months

Text

✿ 》 To Hold or Be Held?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; writing witj this many characters was scary . pls ignore any typos or errors or mischaracterisation im learning. reblogs appreciated!!

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; Chuuya, Dazai, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Nikolai, Fyodor, gn!reader ( fem terms in fyodors and mentions of boobs in nikolais parts )

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; fluff, cuddles, all those nice things, nikolai being nikolai, possible mischaracterisation

dazai

dazai doesn't have a preference. he enjoys both being held and holding you for the same reason. when he's holding you, he's holding on tight - part of him is still scared you're gonna leave him if he gets too comfortable. and if you're holding him he always finds himself melting into you, his hands shakily gripping at your clothes as he smothers himself against your chest. he adores how your hands find his hair and comb through it. if he puts all his weight onto you, you can't go anywhere, right?

".. 'm sorry .. don't get up, just five more minutes. I'll be good ..- you're warm .. 'm sorry.. "

chuuya

chuuya prefers to hold. be adores the feeling of you in his arms, it makes him feel like he's protecting you from the known - blanketed by his strong embrace. he traces 'I love you's on your back knowing you're too comfortable and sleepy to know what he's writing - his thumb writes his name into your hip when you think he's just rubbing circles. little possessive things like that, just to quietly manifest that you stay with him. he can press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and tease you for being so clingy ; even though he's holding you tight too.

".. you need the bathroom? .. you can hold it, jus' stay with me for a while longer .. I love you .. pretty thing you are .."

atsushi

atsushi prefers to hold. while he won't ever deny being held, usually he finds himself pulling you on top of him to keep you in his embrace while he takes a nap. your head on his chest and his arms resting around your waist, while he gently purrs to soothe you to sleep with him. he hasn't been able to take solo naps since you've been around - and he knows you enjoy resting with him too, anyway. so what's the harm when he tugs you over to the detective agency couch and asks you to take a quick break? you've both been working hard , after all.

"let's have a quick break, okay? we can stay finish everything later .. you're gonna exhaust yourself out, sweetheart .. just 10 minutes .."

akutagawa

akutagawa prefers to be held. he'll never admit it to anyone, especially not to you. but you can see the way he relaxes and sinks into you when you wrap your arms around him. the way he takes a long exhale and his shoulders deflate as your hand traces a certain spot on his back. he likes listening to your heartbeat, he likes knowing you're alive and with him for who he is - and not what he can do. he's still learning to love and to trust, but it's a little easier when it's by your side. he hopes you wont leave him, he'll work to impress you as he grows.

".. what? no, I'm not falling asleep. you're imagining things. you .. mm .. can you do that again ?"

nikolai

nikolai doesn't have a preference. he's like a big dog, despite his size he'll absolutely lay himself on top of you and nuzzle into your chest. if you have boobs then he won't be moving for a while, so kiss your oxygen goodbye. whenever he wants to hold you, he's not really one to ask ; he'll just drag you over onto him or use a portal to drop you into his lap, then he's clinging to you and whining desperately whenever you try to leave. he's just big and clingy, but can you fault him? he finds you so comforting.

" .. where are you going? no! you can't leave .. do you not love me anymore ?.. why do you wanna leave !.. just stay with me .. thank you .."

fyodor

fyodor prefers to hold. if neither was an option, it'd most likely be that. but he regularly asks you to come sit on his lap while he works. a small whistle as he turns his chair, patting his thigh - and he'll wrap an arm around you to keep you close. he's not too affectionate, and too much touching before your marriage repulses him. but he'll learn to deal with these little moments for a while - it gives him his energy back and helps him with a little push to finish his work so you rest together.

" .. зайчик .. come here. no, I'm not finished. just come. don't be disobedient , now .. there we are. good girl."

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chiscaralight · 1 month

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TITTIES DROPPIN’ !

he’s mesmerized by those mommy milkers !!

includes: nsfw! diluc, jing yuan, sukuna, welt x afab!reader(separately), pussy eating, tit fucking, dick sucking, cock warming, tit sucking, nipple piercings, size diff for all of them cus big men ! true form! sukuna, he has 2 cocks cus… yk. breeding kink!

a/n: this is part two to this, first time writing for all these i characters except diluc ! enjoyyyy and part three will come soon! i had to go do research on sukuna by reading like 50 works in one sitting and i wanted to capture him right 😭 i think i did kind of well there.

DILUC RAGVINDR.

diluc expresses his admiration for you in many ways, he's so wonderful! he's always making sure you're okay and reassuring you regardless of whether it is inside or outside the confines of your room. so when he approaches you so red in the face one day with a request he can barely cough out, you know you were in for a ride.

he has you on your back, expertly twirling his tongue into you. his rough fingers scissoring your tight hole. the band he usually uses to tie up his hair is pushed up on your wrist as you tangle your fingers in his soft locs. he's groaning as you grind down on his mouth, trying to hit your peak. he only lets you, latching his lips onto your swollen clit as you're writhing under him. your orgasm hits you as hard as it always does, he just knows your body all too well. when you're finally calm, his hands find your face. he asks if you're ready and you give him a small nod.

no matter how many times you come face to face- well, face to dick with him, you'll never get over it. your cheeks flush, his gaze is piercing as you take his thick cock in your mouth. you move slowly, letting the saliva in your mouth flow out. as much as you'd love to suck him off fully, that's not what you agreed to.

once you're certain he's fully slicked up, you pull off him and push your tits together. you kneel up and you push your chest out as he pushes himself in between them. his moan is airy and deep as he pulls out again. his hips are bucking up with short movements as you open your mouth to let more saliva fall onto his tip. the sight is so unholy, but it only pushes him harder, his little darling looking up at him like this. he could cum just from the sight of you alone, but he's trying to savor the moment just a bit longer. it's not long before he's shooting ropes of his cum all over you. you're already looking at him with those adorable eyes of yours and when he's looking back down, he can already feel himself hardening all over again.

JING YUAN.

being an arbiter-general was no easy feat. Jing yuan was always busy with whatever work it was he was doing. of course it wasn't his fault. a position like this would have its fair share of time-consuming tasks. it left a sour taste in both of your mouths, him often daydreaming about having you in his arms and you sitting at your window like a Victorian wife waiting for your husband to come back from the ever-raging war.

so when you hear your door open followed by the tired sigh leaving his lips, you're wrapping as much of your small body around his while he envelopes yours. you can feel the kiss he presses against the crown of your head and you tilt up so he can press another one to your pursed lips. you can feel the weight of his body as he leans onto yours. he’s so tired, so you give him an offer that will allow the both of you to relax.

you’re so full of his cock as you lay against his chest. you’re both naked, skin to skin as you just lay there basking in each other's warmth. the moment is short-lived when his phone starts ringing. he can only groan as he stretches over to get it. then he points it to you.

“it’s yanqing. tell him im not with you right now.”

you shakily pick up as you hear the younger boy's voice. you tell him that you’re the one on the line, but before you can deliver the rest of the message, jing yuan is pinning you down to the bed. yanqing’s voice raises the speakers, asking if you’re okay. you quickly brush it off, saying you dropped something while trying to bite back a moan. the way jing yuans tongue danced around your hardened nipples was dangerous. you’re trying to push him away, all while keeping the poor retainer on the line. he can barely make sense of the words you’re trying to push out, but your mind is hazy from the way he’d sucking and tugging at you’re sensitive buds. you quickly blurts out that jing yuan went out for a bit of air between pants and yanqing only leaves a message for the older man as you end the call. the devious offender even had the guts to laugh after putting you through something like that. the only response he has for you is a soft nibble to the hardened skin and you’re shivering all over. the reaction has him smiling on your skin, and you can only sigh and tangle your fingers into his hair as he goes to town on you.

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

you’re not even sure how many times anymore. sukuna had been bouncing you between his two cocks over and over again to ensure you were properly bred. after all, a lowly human like you should be thanking him for even considering yourself to aid him in carrying on his legacy. yet here you are, barely hanging on as he’s releasing into you again. he places one of his hands against the round of your belly and hums in satisfaction. he’s done his work well, and you’re bound to give him a child like this. but oh no, he’s nowhere near done with you. you try to protest, but his other pair of hands are already making their way towards your breasts.

he’s practically hissing at the sight as he tugs on the circular jewelry penetrating your nipples. what a fucking slut. piercing your body like this just to garner his attention? his mind had long been on you, so unnecessary things like this should have no effect on him. but he can’t deny that he can’t take his eyes off of them. his sharp nails are trailing around the metal as your body writhes once again. he orders you to keep still as he flicks up and down your buds to watch you for his own amusement. you’re so small, so sensitive and he just wants to break you over and over again.

so the next time he has you’re time, he’s gripping your tits once again. you’re in a kneeling position as he fucks into you from behind. you look so filthy like this and he makes sure you know it. he won’t tell you how much he’s enjoying that cool metal in the palm of his hands while he jiggles your breast as he plows into you.

BONUS.

this dumbass would totally motorboat you!! you’re trying to swat him away but you’re no match for the sheer will and determination he has to sink his face into your boobs. so when you do eventually give up, he laughs in victory! pressing your tits together once again to shove his head between them while making that stupid noise. you give him a nice slap to the back of his skull, but wrap your legs around his waist regardless. -tartaglia, sampo, gojo, heizou, venti, yuuji, itto, kaeya, your favs!

#diluc smut #diluc x reader #diluc x you #gi diluc smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #gi smut #hsr smut #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x reader smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut.#jjk smut #jjk x reader

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nomazee · 1 year

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bsd characters and how they sleep (with you)

i fear i wrote this in twenty minutes in a feverish haze and have no idea how we got here... forgive any spelling/grammar errors but i hope it's cutesy characters: dazai, atsushi, yosano, chuuya, ranpo im taking requests!

°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.

dazai:

ABSOLUTELY EASILY the clingiest one

will completely wrap his limbs around you from behind or from the front

it’s so hard to pry him off of you in the morning it’s like he gets ten times heavier when he’s asleep

also sleeps without socks but complains about being cold all the time

makes the both of you sleep with not one but TWO weighted blankets some days

it’s a little ridiculous but you put up with it because you love him

he also runs SO COLD

toes are freezing, hands are freezing, NOSE is freezing

he sticks his nose into the crook of your neck when he’s clinging onto you

you’ve only shrieked ONCE from the shock. maybe twice

manages to stay still all throughout the night but that’s only because he’s too busy latching onto you like a leech

atsushi:

too nervous to ask you to hold him so instead he’ll hold your hand while you sleep

it’s the sweetest thing ever

absolutely wakes up in the middle of the night if he feels your hand slip from his and will reach for it again

it takes like a month of sleeping in the same bed for you to recognize all his little quirks and the things he likes

you learn that he loves it when you kiss his hairline right before he falls asleep

it leads to a lot more peaceful nights and he doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat as often anymore

sometimes he ends up wrapping an arm around your torso while he’s asleep without even realizing it

when he wakes up he doesn’t get embarrassed or anything but DOES pretend to be asleep until you get up so that he can stick to you for longer

yosano:

THE MOST VIOLENT SLEEPER

sleeping in the same bed with her is a death wish most nights

she rolls around, flails, will wake up in the middle of the night and mumble something unintelligible before hitting you in the face

she’s crazy! she’s your hot gf! you sit there and take it like the loyal spouse you are!

her FAVE way to sleep is face down, starfish-pose on top of you

yes you can’t breathe at all but yes the weight is comforting

when she sleeps like that sometimes you’ll get a little treat during the night, and instead of hitting you in the face in her sleep she’ll kiss along your cheek all warm and soft

sometimes that ends in her drooling on your face

makes up for her drool and nightly attacks by waking you up with kisses (and bites on your CHEEK) and even breakfast when she’s in a good mood

chuuya:

he loves you so much but he is also dramatic

which means… he has his own sleep routine and bed set-up and if it’s disturbed he will not get a second of rest

he invests in a california king bed so that you can have your side and he can have his side

he sets the thermostat to a certain temperature, picks out blankets depending on the weather, adjusts his pillows every night, sleeps with an eyemask… it’s a little bit overkill

you don’t make fun of him for it because you know he’d kill you

sleeps on his back with his hands folded on his chest like he’s in a COFFIN

also sleeps like the dead and you’ve woken up a few times crying his name because you thought he was actually dead

if you try holding onto him during the night he’ll flinch without meaning to and start mumbling curses to himself

it takes you a while to get used to it

he makes up for his stringent sleep routine by letting you nap on the couch with him once in a while

he can handle that at the very least

will totally collapse right on top of you on the couch and fall asleep after a long day at work

sedated immediately if you run your fingers through his hair

lets out the cutest snores BUT DO NOT TELL HIM THAT OR HE WILL NEVER SLEEP ON YOU AGAIN!!!!

ranpo:

so incredibly fussy

moves around so much in his sleep and can never get comfortable

is always pushing your head off your pillows and rotating them so that you can both sleep on the cold side

kicks off his blankets just to complain about being cold and makes you lean over the bed to pick the covers back up and tuck him in

favorite way to sleep with you is facing you with his arms wrapped around your neck

this DOES end up in him accidentally choking you sometimes

if he gets too hot he has no shame in pushing you away and OFF THE BED

you put up with it because you love him and you wouldn’t have it any other way

chews on your hair??? in your sleep???

you wake up with half your hair covered in drool

have you seen that one video of the girl’s rabbit biting a strand of her hair clean off. that’s him. he’s the rabbit.

has a weak spot for sleepy kisses AUUUGGGHHH

will never initiate them but will always melt into your hands if you squeeze his face and give him a big fat forehead kiss

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mooishbeam · 10 months

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『♡』 Besotted

♡ featuring: yandere!ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: the love of your life knows you without asking, selfless and caring. however, you're slowly starting to realize the man you loved was a mask of the truth hiding underneath. wc: 12.5k+

♡ cw/tw: modern au, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of suicide, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, rough sex, sideways sex, cockwarming, mating press, cunnilingus, drugging, overstimulation, praise, pet names (lots of them tbh)

notes: im so sorry i know it took me a long time but my time has been consumed by exams and its finals week soon so ahhhh. it's going to take me a little longer than usual until my semester is over, forgive me!! art by jam8366_dday on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

“Caramel macchiato for… Katheryne?” Your quiet voice deadens among the bustling crowd of businessmen, secretaries, and construction workers alike conversing through their morning wake-up. It’s incomparable to the serene appeal of a corner coffee shop—piled high with board games and books, the nooks and crannies decorated with some sort of trinket or knickknack you collected along the way, baubles that brought you joy and spread some to anyone that entered the cozy hole in the wall—“The Mad Hatter”. People are free to add stickers to the cash register, so convoluted with color similar to graffiti, including the pink-hatted cat Lyney glued to the top. Coffee tables share space with buoyant sofas, opposite of the display case viewing a multitude of extra sweet desserts and breakfast sandwiches. At night, the fairy lights bordering the wide veiled windows glimmered a dim hue that made feathery snow sparkle like stars during winter. You set the coffee under warm lights dotting the ceiling, emanating above the wooden interior. No one is finicky for your tastes; you are happy to see the familiar cheerful or grumpy faces entering the shop. You remember names, faces, and minute personal details they’d forgotten they shared over a steaming cup of latte left to warm because the art was too pretty to drink. They’re busy, but patient; they've acquainted you long enough to not be angry at the wait, and most times come to your defense against unruly customers.

It's the worst—or for you, the best—in the afternoons, swarming crowds waiting for an afternoon pick-me-up. You and Lyney work to the best of your ability, serving up group orders with a quickness unparalleled by nearby chain coffeehouse’s. You regard it as your passion, although your parents were disappointed when you told them you and Lyney would be buying and renovating an abandoned property states over all for coffee; your delectable drinks have the potential to form long lasting relationships between you and other customers, and there’s a certain creative merit you relish whenever a guest takes pictures of the swan-like artistry foaming on the surface. The taste of bitter beans sparks moments of merriment, longing, and love—in some cases, it’s the best form of intimacy.

Your best memories live in this shop; the ground powder that scattered everywhere and painted Lyney like a chocolate sculpture when he tried to push the inventory to the highest shelf or staying up after close in the middle of a blizzard to make flimsy homemade decorations for the grand opening with help from Lynette.

It’s extra special that the very place you stand is where you found the love of your life. You met him at the register, loose curls dipped in autumn tones spilling over his long lashes. The void in his eyes motionless like the ocean before a low tide. You both stared at each other for a moment, taking in the lines and details of your flustering faces. You must’ve been staring for too long, as Lyney tapped your shoulder with a side eye that alerted you to the awkward silence and line heading out the door. You fumbled for apologies and took his order; the ginger boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck—Ajax—such a rugged name for a pretty guy. You prepared the Frappuccino with a drizzle of affection bespoken for him. When you gave him the drink, his hand grazed against yours, a kiss without lips. It left you breathless, and with an airy coyness he said, “I didn’t get your name?” You told him, and he tried out the sound on his tongue. You wished he’d say it over and over. With a rosy wash across his cheeks, “A fitting name for your beauty. Have a good day, (Y/N)” was all he said before he walked away, leaving you stunned and smitten. Lyney was the unfortunate victim that dealt with your wearisome fantasizing about Ajax.

But Ajax already knew your name. And address, and friends.

How could he not? When he saw you hanging lights in the windows on a particularly sunny morning that made your glowing face shine with pure radiance unrivaled by deities, he sunk endlessly. He vowed to walk at a distance at that same time every day to ogle your lustrous hair, your soft skin that didn’t break a sweat, the curve of your lips. You soon became an itch he couldn’t scratch, a plaguing thought that wiggled in the wrinkles of his brain and made it hard to sleep or work. You, you, you. Is your laugh a heavy snort or more lighthearted, do you have the same sense of humor as him? You’ll like what he likes, think what he thinks.

You were constantly on his mind, he wondered if you were eating when he ate or how good you were sleeping as he drifted off to his. It’s not his fault that he snapped discrete pictures of your smiling face, you were too adorable to ignore. He valued coming home to kneel at the little shrine he made of your printed gaiety, surrounded by consistently fresh roses and citrus candles he thought you’d smell like. If he stood close enough, it was like you were right in front of him. The apron tied around your waist was a vibrant crimson—his favorite color. It's fate, the way the stars aligned and sent angels down to bless you with a pinafore of his approval. You had to know he was out there; he was already imagining returning to a cheerful home, and your swaying hips as you whipped up a glacé delight. He’d kiss you on the cheek, and you’d pop a tart blueberry in his mouth. Yes—it had to be this way, it must be what you wanted, too.

Ajax coincidentally found himself rummaging through trash cans in the vicinity for an inkling of receipts from the shop. He stumbled upon it, of course—it’s not like he waited out until nightfall right before garbage day to have the highest chances of finding identification. The jagged fragment of a receipt led to your family, social media, and blogs you dedicated to your baking progress. And he’d monitor the sites on different screens with multiple tabs, an infatuated glaze over those dull eyes that kept him glued to the updates for hours. He made many accounts, liking your posts fervently with flimsy justifications of encouragement. You became reachable day by day.

The day Ajax decided to pursue you upfront, it was a dream he hoped never to wake. He’d rehearsed it obsessively until the moment he stood in front of the glass door, a tremble in his restless legs at the thought of looking ridiculous. Seeing you up close felt like a special occasion. His heart was beating off-kilter in his quaking chest, as if jumping free fall out of a plane, and he held his breath until it opened. The confidence he mustered up before he got to the register did little to suppress the giddiness rolling in his veins. His pulse paced the closer he got. Two more orders and there you were; the center of his universe, and you didn’t know it yet. Pictures didn’t do you justice—no, he needed to see your grace preserved in museums depicted in rich Renaissance paintings onlookers could only fantasize holding or loving, but you’d be for him, and him alone. He drew a blank. “May I get your name for the order?” His eyes flickered with a brand-new luster, it melded certainty and delusion.

She wants...my name.

My name.

The sweet harmony of your words lulled Ajax to an addicting turbid spiral that swept fondness through the tempest and scattered infatuation in its aftermath. A feeling too tenacious, it must be love. The incessant burn urged him to protect and guide you to him. You need him. Now he watched compulsively with a winded jaw, your smile to other men who couldn't compare to his devotion. They don’t know you like he does. He could map out the corners of your house from the slim backgrounds of your blog posts or name every club you’ve participated in since middle school. Hunger spread where his fists craved contact, like sunfire corroding the taught skin on his knuckles. They’ve breathed your air and existed in your presence. It’s undeserved, they’re unworthy.

How fucking dare they.

How lost you must be without him, led astray by intruding greed; he selflessly assumed his responsibility. You are his, after all. So, he stalked behind cars shadowed by harsh streetlamps to ensure you got home safe and intercepted your packages to check for threatening substances. The accomplishment he felt whenever he completed his—in his words, “duties”—instilled exultation beyond any memory. Within the envelopes, he’d leave an elegant note embellished with hearts hinting at his infatuation and the care he put in to maintain your safety. One letter turned to two, then five, to the point where you’d receive a sleeve stuffed with increasingly unhinged letters from your secret admirer that fanned out when you tipped it.

On Christmas Eve, a limitless cloak of frozen stardust decided to flurry right before your shift ended. You covered Lyney’s shift so he’d have time to spend with Lynette and Freminent; it wasn’t like you had anything to do afterwards. You counted the flakes of the storm through frosted glass, thinking about the wellbeing of your family back home. Mailed gifts couldn't console the grief you felt during the holidays. A knock on the door turned your attention to the silhouette of a man wearing a slouched beanie with a pompom on top. You unlocked the door, and it swung open from the whirling heft of wind and smattered white across the wood from empty streets.

“Sorry, we just closed-” You looked up, no time to register the freckled face from months ago, that stole your heart with a smile. Icy grains kissed his cheeks, as red as apples, and fused to the wool scarf draped around his trench coat. “Oh! Hello, again.” You tried to play it off, but the crack in your voice teetered. You were suddenly nervous. Ajax grinned hard and shuffled slightly inwards to escape the chill.

“Hi (Y/N)! I was really hoping you weren’t closed, it’s a good day to grab a hot chocolate, y’know?”

“It is. You’re probably freezing, please come in.” You should’ve been home by now, but for Ajax, you could spare a few minutes. He unraveled his winter attire to reveal a tightly fitted turtleneck and took a seat at the chair closest to you. You wrap around the counter and start the kettle, struggling with what to do next at the gaze gripping your mind. “One hot chocolate, coming up.”

“How much I owe ya?” he chirped, arms resting on the table while he watched you grab two mugs. “No worries, it’s on the house. Consider it your Christmas present.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. You really are kind...Lyney left you by yourself tonight?” You wondered how he knew Lyney’s name when they hadn’t met, but quickly brushed it off.

“Yeah, I wanted him to spend time with his family.”

“And you don’t have any here?” You didn’t retain your usual weariness towards acquaintances. On this lonely night Ajax didn’t feel like much of a stranger.

“Nah, moved away to start this.” Your hands gestured to the quaint interior. Ajax scanned his surroundings, marveling at the scenery before he spoke. “What you’ve done with this, it’s lovely. Your ambition and dedication are apparent from the way you treat the customers, I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.” Your body flared like summer and succeeded in hushing the breeze. You poured a cup full of thick cocoa and plopped a dollop of whipped cream on both. “It’s not much, but-” the mugs settled on the table, and you sat across from him. “It smells amazing, (Y/N). You’re an expert at this” he interrupted. You traced the rim with your finger and rested your head on the other hand.

“Thanks...I assume you don’t have family here, either? Think you’d be ripping open gifts by now if you did.” He took another sip. “Yup, they live in a different country. I should visit them soon” he sighed and glanced at the jumbled wool scarf. “Did a sibling make that for you?” you asked.

“Yeah, my sister. A parting gift.”

“It’s beautiful, she’s very talented” you remarked, admiring the delicate fleece. The bittersweet smile in response stuck to your heartstrings. “She is.”

You both drank in silence and occasionally met each other's eyes, only to turn away. Something unsaid hung in the air. "Winter has a way of making us reminisce. It’s so depressing” you confided. You hadn’t told Lyney, but you were terribly lonely these past months. You replaced your emotions with extra shifts, but they came crashing down in the darkness of your bedroom. Ajax gazed at you like he could see through you.

“The sky appears magnificent under the snow's embrace. Its purity is like the moon's gentle radiance. I don’t think there’s anything like a world covered in snow" he soothed. His words flustered you, and you homed in on the white trails dancing in your lukewarm cup.

“I’ve never thought of it like that. I used to hate snow. It feels...intruding, I guess.”

“But if we don’t allow ourselves to be intruded, how will we love?” he blurted. It was comforting to hear in the moment, and you returned his smile.

“Is the hot chocolate good?” you asked.

“It’s perfect.... you’re perfect.” You chuckled at the notion, mistaking it for pity. “I’m not perfect.”

“But you are. The way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your courtesy. You’re flawless, gorgeous inside and out and you don’t even notice.” The way Ajax looked at you, on the verge of his seat and studying your face, lips, and hair. You couldn’t deny the flattery that drowned you and dragged you the more he persisted. “How would you know from one encounter?” His mouth fixed to say it, the truth, but he tight-lipped and reached into his coat pocket instead. He grabbed a blue velvet box and slid it to you.

“I wanted to give you this. Ever since I saw you.” It felt expensive under your fingertips. You unclasped the front, and it opened to a twinkling pendant. It was a cable chain dangling an oval sapphire gem, with 18 karat white-gold halo sunbursts surrounding it. It’s breathtaking, as if stolen from the tomb of a goddess.

“Wow, this is...stunning. Ajax, I can’t accept this; it’s too much” you pressured. You’ve never received a gift of this caliber from anyone, it didn’t feel right to look at it.

“Consider it your Christmas present” he repeated. You shook your head and held up the box to hand it back to him. “I can’t, I shouldn’t-”

“Please” he pleaded. He clasped your hands, a reassuring thumb gently caressing yours. You were so focused on its extravagance that you didn’t notice the note stuck to the roof of the box. Refined script dotted with hearts; the same style as the hundreds in your closet. Your mouth gaped.

“This letter...you...have you been the one sending me all those love letters?” You should've had your suspicions, or the urge to back away, but you weren’t afraid. You tried to string together his ability to find your address or mail, or how he knew Lyney, but your brain couldn’t clear the fog of feeling loved after so many years. It’s a warm hug to the blood that instinctively ran cold. Your heartbeat’s fast, half with anxiety and the other with desire.

Ajax solemnly hung his head and retracted his hands. He fidgeted with his thumbs. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, I thought about being upfront, but I was so scared of your response and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought maybe if I sent them anonymously you could start liking the person behind it or if I played my cards right you’d find out who it was...but that doesn’t make any sense now that I’m thinking about it, I just wanted to be near you. You’re so amazing and smart and beautiful, I just...s-sorry…I’m rambling. I hope you can understand; I-I didn’t mean to harm I just want to make sure you’re safe” he choked. The strained words tumbled over one another and broke in places, where they traveled off at the end. Ajax averted your eyes, pools of tears threatening to fall from the corners. The sudden mood change took you off guard, and you reached for his guilty hands. You were on the verge of divulging your entirety for him, be it the isolation of the big city or lack of attention. He didn’t seem like a bad guy; he might have been misguided. What’s the harm in giving him a chance?

“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered” you giggled. “The letters are sweet, I read all of them. They make me feel a little better about living in a shithole apartment. Thank you.” He looked at you, bottomless intensity searching for more. “I’m interested in you, too” you added.

“Then you’ll be my girlfriend?” It was phrased as a question but arrived as a proclamation. “...I would love that.”

Ajax moved around the table. You rose to wrap your arms around his neck while he squeezed your waist with his head lying on your shoulder. The duping tears vanished like they didn’t exist, and his shameful expression morphed into a conniving smirk stretching unnaturally in his triumph. Your authentic touch, the smell of perfume wafting in his nose. It’s not citrus, but it’s you. You, everything is you. This is how things were meant to be. His eyes curved like arches from sheer elation, biting his lip to stifle the cackle. You’re together, at last.

The snow stopped some time ago, but the blizzard was just beginning.

Your relationship with Ajax progressed fast after that day. A weariness dulled within you after you came to your senses from your prior confession, and you weren’t sure about the stability of his neurotic nature. However, when Ajax showed up with a bouquet of the loveliest flowers you’ve ever laid eyes on during an exhausting shift, it shined above all else. He showers you with consistent love and attention and worships the ground you walk on with doting devotion. He's clingy and somewhat suffocating, but his sick adoration blesses you with rose-colored glasses; you’re divinity on a golden pedestal in his eyes, and if he fell hard, you fell harder. The considerate, caring, good listener he is makes the small hiccups go over your head. In the first few months you were unequivocally enamored, the kind that tied your universe to his. You patter about him to Lynette, who gives you half-concerned approval at the story of how you met and the “little things” you cherish.

Like when he allowed you to move in without a second thought. The paint chipped around dodgy windowsills and fraying carpets, and your landlord wouldn’t pay for the fixes. Unfortunately, you needed a place to stay and couldn’t afford to speak up about the horrible conditions. You were used to your slumlord at that point, but the absence of working heat and busted appliances led you to the arms of your boyfriend, sobbing about the stress your landlord subjected you to. He scooped you like fragile glass as you faltered through shaky breaths grating your lungs and hushed your distress. Kissing your head, he rubbed your back and mumbled into your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it...I’ll take care of everything.”

A week later you’d found out that your landlord died from a gruesome suicide, and all tenants had to leave the auctioned duplex. Ajax took you in, and you began adapting to his midtown townhouse. Though you felt like a mooch at first, the welcoming interior had you snuggling between his downy bedding in no time. He shouldered your burden, accepted your genuine self and lavished generous replacements of the items you couldn’t carry. You don’t lift a finger around him, and he readily cooks and cleans for your comfort.

You’ve gotten accustomed to his presence. When you wake, he’s either watching you sleep silently or preparing food for you to take to work. Ajax follows you around like an obedient pet, smoothing your hair and highlighting how beautiful you look in your rough post-morning wake-up state. He’ll try to kiss you before toothpaste, and you playfully mush his disappointed face off to get dressed. He compensates by kissing in other places, your clothed knee as he ties your shoes or your hands when they interlock. Prior to departing, he attaches that sapphire elegance to your neck. You grab your tidy lunchbox and stroll together in the early hours of the morning for your opening shift. “Have a good day, baby” he says, and places sugary smooches from your lips to your forehead and back again. You’d stand there forever, embracing his warmth if your alarm didn’t notify you to start prepping.

When Ajax isn’t around, and you’re busy piping frosting onto cakes, there’s a profound hole in your happiness that can’t be filled with buttercream. The way his nose scrunches when he laughs hard, and those hot honey strands tickling your cheeks when you sleep because his face is directly on top of yours make you crave his sight and touch. Sometimes you ponder what you’ve done to deserve someone so over the moon for you. Hell, you’d give him the moon if that’s what he wanted; it’d barely cover a fraction of the benevolence he’s evinced. For now, you blink distraction away, and there's spread sloppily piled over the cakes and countertop. You simper to yourself; such a handsome, tender handful.

Your daydreams carry you through close, and you and Lyney remain as you wipe down tacky tables with rags lathered in disinfectant. You’re circling surfaces with vigor, quick to move to the next. You hear him laugh from another table. “Okay, speed cleaner. Missing your house husband?” he teases. You roll your eyes and pretend to throw the rag at him. “Hurry up, I wanna go home.” He fake cowers and throws his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am. Don’t waste all your strength, Lynette will be upset if you can’t dance with her tomorrow.”

“I’m not some old woman, Lyn. I can party.” You force away the memory of sleeping on Lyney’s shoulder in the lounge area of a booming club.

“Sure, grandma. Don’t forget your cane when I pick you up” he jokes. You chortle, and actually throw the rag this time. Too bad his agile form dodges it. “I gotta let Ajax know.”

“...Right.” Lyney loses momentum and stares at the steaming bucket for a pregnant pause, stirring the rag to buy time. You glance towards him, and he shifts a peccant look. You turn on your heels and lean on the back of a chair.

“Spill it” you demand.

“Spill what?”

“What you actually wanna say.” Lyney bites the inside of his cheek to physically restrain the itch that vents brutal honesty. “I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say.”

You narrow your brows and sigh in disbelief. “So what? We’ve been friends since high school, just tell me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and gulps a deep breath. “Lyney.”

“It’s about Ajax” he exhales. “Oh.”

“I’m worried about you.” You weren’t expecting the serious air, it sounds like an intervention. It's unnatural coming from your easygoing friend.

“Really? Why?” you question. He blinks for a few moments, dumbfounded at the innocent audacity, or willful ignorance.

“Some of the stuff you say about him...it creeps me out. How is it not creeping you out?” he stresses, gawking at the exorbitant gem.

“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean.” To you, Ajax isn’t the scary type. Mysterious maybe, but his affection prevents you from seeing him as anything but the missing half of your soul.

“Okay. You don’t remember telling me how he kept that rotting coffee cup from when you guys first met? Or how he watches you sleep? He made your favorite meal first try and called it a ‘lucky guess?’” The more he goes on, the more disbelieved he becomes.

“I think it’s romantic” you chide. He expels his frustration.

“(Y/N), I'm not saying any of this to be a hater, but all of this is unhealthy. Unhealthy might be an understatement. I mean, the man acts like he can't live without you. What if you were to break up, can you be sure he won't lose his fucking mind?” The hypothetical calamity of separation sinks seeds in puddles of doubt. It’s not possible.

“We love each other. That won’t happen.”

“It’s been over a year, and you know nothing about him. He comes out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, love bombs you, and you take it at face value. Maybe he truly is the one and it’s love at first sight, but this whole situation is...odd. I care about you, (Y/N), and this guy scares me. He’s hiding something.” You attempt to formulate a fact you’ve learned about him, a detail to prove how close you’ve gotten, and come to realize there’s none in your reservoir. You know naught of his friends or family or wealth. Ajax tells you safe verities, like his favorite food and hobby. You don’t thirst for personal space or secrets when it comes to Ajax, and the stygian plunge in his eyes gives you no hints, but you believe the pleasing words that escape his lips either way.

You glance at the empty Tupperware on the counter, that was once packed with a hefty sandwich and strawberries carved into hearts. He's effortlessly adorable, a small berry-stained note with a simple phrase: "you'll do great today <3". Your dream man, he wouldn't hide things from you, you won’t fathom the thought. “I-”

Ding

That dazzling toothy gapped grin spreads warmth across your chest and the room instantly feels a bit brighter. Ajax saunters like he owns the place, engulfing your frame in his stature and placing a kiss on your head. Lyney freezes though Ajax ignored his existence. “I’m getting ready to leave” you muffle into the musky denim jacket. He nods, but his action won’t follow his hands sturdy on your waist as you shimmy out. You make haste to the back room, past the pantry dry goods and collect your sweater and bag.

You’re about to push open the swinging door when you pause, catching a glimpse of Ajax and Lyney through the oval window. They don’t normally interact in the same space, and you thought it best to respect their boundaries. Ajax is turned away from you, but you can see Lyney clear as day, a stone solid unease skipping on his skin that makes calculated breaths too obvious. It’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. His arms are stuck to the sides, and you observe the apron jumbled in his clutches shaking ever so slightly. He’s trained to the hickory grain of the floor, and from a small portion of Ajax’s visible face, it’s a dreadful expression unbeknownst to you.

There’s an almost tenebrous loom towering over Lyney, and you feel an alarming shiver settle in your lower spine. Were his eyes normally this gloomy? Your heart rate palpitates when it shouldn’t. You want to look away from the swirling dark depths possessing your soulmate, shooting daggers at your friend. His jaw is clenched to popping, veins on his neck and hands chasing bone. He has a lethal grip on Lyney’s shoulder, and the rough tension pulls at the wrinkling undershirt. But he sneers—a twisted, coiling kind that doesn’t match his glare—an impersonation of affability.

“Ajax” you mutter softly as you sway the door. He turns sharply, and it’s like a flipped switch. The rage decays to ash swiftly and he’s yours again, your adoring admirer. “I'm ready.” He waits for your approach and tangles your hands. You make your way out, freeing Lyney from capitivity. He holds the door open for you to leave, and you shout “Bye, Lyn! I’ll see you tomorrow.” A shell-shocked cast on his face, he doesn’t say a word.

You sit at the dining table, feeling disconnected from reality while the kitchen rises with a clatter of pans and glass. You scroll through posts on your phone and occasionally peek over at the corridor to watch Ajax work. His passion shows when he cooks, rocking the skillet to upturn the veggies sizzling within. His broad back flexes with skillful movements, and he looks at you, winking with a teasing pucker on his glossy lips. You giggle. I was just imagining things.

He slides the plates on the table and sits across from you. Ajax sits like a giddy child waiting for you to try their creation, and you take the first bite. The bountiful flavor dances on your tongue. “It’s really good!” you muffle through bites. A tinge of pink sets on his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”

You chew haphazardly out of focus. You can’t help but notice how quiet your phone has been since you’ve moved in, it feels foreign in your possession. Not a single call from your friends came through, forgotten and invisible. You contemplate apologizing to Lyney tomorrow, it was wrong to get defensive towards compassion. Ajax interrupts his eating to track your fork picking at the meal.

“You okay, sweetheart? You aren’t eating.”

You awake from your trance. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just feels kinda off.” Ajax’s back straightens, and he tenses throughout at a semblance of negative diction. “What does? The food? I’ll remake it” he stumbles.

“No no, the food is great. It’s, I don’t know. I haven’t got a call from Tiggy in a while.” The corners of Ajax’s mouth contort.

“Really...I heard he’s been hangin’ out with some new people.” His tone is dry, it strives to be nonchalant. His elbows rest on the table, and he carves his knife into bloody steak like struggling living bone.

“So, I guess that means he can’t message me anymore, huh” you chuckle. He twists the knife deeper, as if it’s digging in his back. “He’s just a bad friend honestly. Not consistent, you even said he missed your birthday last year. Who needs a friend like that?”

“I guess.” Meanwhile, you flip through your contacts searching for Tighnari’s name; come to find out he’s nowhere in your phone. In fact, a lot of messages and numbers seemed to have dwindled over time. Your own parents, vanished. Perhaps you were so overworked you’d forgotten they deleted. You start scouring for his profile, but it doesn’t come up. You can’t imagine Tighnari wiping out his entire presence, and it’s not just him. Outside him are the piles of male friends you seldom locate, and you become flustered at your blindness. You look at Ajax, and his eyebrows quirk up to inquire about your confusion.

“That’s so weird. I should try calling him-”

“Don't.” It’s not suggestive, its one note, stern demand. It rings in your ears, and when that mask slips for a terrifying moment, you hold your breath until it recurs. “’S not that I don’t want you to, honey. He clearly doesn’t care in the first place, that’s not a sign of a good friend. I’m just trying to help; you know I always have ou- your best interest.” There’s an unrelenting pit in your stomach telling you it’s wrong. “You seem tense since we left, Ajax. Are you alright?” He stops, it leaves you on edge when a formidable shadow casts over his eyes from his bangs that make them look as endless as the bottom of the sea.

“I feel like...you’re straying away from me. You’re becoming more secretive. Have I done something to violate your trust?” You don’t consider how Ajax knew Tighnari, let alone how he’d find the password to your phone. It was your fault, it had to be. The solemn quiver of his lips clears your suspicion. You’d forget it all to see him happy again. You stand and sway to his side of the table, sitting on his lap to take his face in your hands. “Not at all, babe. My phone’s been acting up, I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just asked because you and Lyney looked high-strung. ‘M sorry.” You kiss him softly with reassurance, and he melts in your touch. The foggy residue shows on his blushing face, and you introduce another to his cheek. “I’m going to a party with Lyney and Lynette tomorrow, so I wanted to see if Tiggy would come.”

“Ah...okay. Don’t worry, darling, it was a short conversation.” Vague and unassuming, but it didn’t matter now. Ajax can’t deceive you.

The state you drifted off—lying on Ajax’s chest with his arms embracing your lax figure—is not how you awake. A piercing scream rises, and you jump out of bed in a drowsy stupor. “Ajax?” you addle. Metal clangs to the floor, and the sheets hang low on your hips before you dart down the stairs and through the dining room to discover the cause of the noise.

He’s kneeling on the kitchen tile, compressing his forearm. Vermillion overflows between his fingers and palm and spatters his shirt. The knife, along with a clumsily chopped apple, is muddy with blood. “Oh my god!” You sprint for a towel and first aid kit crammed underneath the kitchen sink. When you return, Ajax is hissing from the sting, salty tears smeared on his eyelashes. You accompany him on the floor, ignoring the crime scene peppering the cabinets and gently glide his hands to get free view of the wound. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, now that you’re here.” It’s a nasty cut, not a gash but painful, nonetheless. You bring him to wash the excess blood, and pat it dry carefully. The fizz from disinfectant makes his arm jolt, but you hold him steady to apply. As you bandage his arm, he blinks away the twinge.

“I’m sorry, baby. You have work in a few minutes, and you’re here taking care of me. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll do it.”

“No way in hell am I leaving you like this. Don’t apologize” you insist, the end of your wrap stuffed to secure. You can’t conceive clocking in or partying tonight while Ajax suffers at home. “I’m gonna call out for a couple days so I know you’re well. Relax, I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your phone. Ajax wipes his face on his sleeve, streaking insincere sorrow near the serpentine smirk.

You spent the day cleaning the home, wiping the kitchen top to bottom and making dinner for Ajax. He rests in bed, and you often check in on him. Treating him like an intensive care patient might’ve been excessive, but he accepts your gentle touch and hand fed meals nursing him back to health. You’re lying in bed with him, and the load of his brawny chest forces yours into the mattress with your legs on either side. You massage the pads of your fingers into his scalp, and your breathing weighted blanket emits a groan. Dazed and fully lax, lulling from the rise and fall of your chest.

The second day is the same, but the lack of pressure divides your dreary lids. It’s midnight, and it casts a fluorescent glow that permeates the room. You feel your way from walls to banister, and as you’re about to step down the stairs to get water, you pause before the living room. Crouched, peeking through the bars of the banister, you see Ajax on the couch in absolute quiet. Shade stands in place of his facial features, obscured besides the hazy veneer in his iris that bores into the journal in front of him. The collage catches moonbeams on the coffee table, crowded with tiny notes that peak out the uniform pages, and polaroid pictures glued to each sheet, stacked so thick it can’t close. He uses the pen you thought you’d lost moving in, running his tongue over the older bite marks on its base. Squinting your eyes fails at registering the specifics.

You suck in a breath and take another step, hoping the unreliable foundation won’t give way to whining wood. He skims across the words as if they’re memorized, and crows to himself. Eeeeir. It conforms, and the minute you press into it and that haunting sound whispers through the house, Ajax cracks his neck to your position. You stiffen, a deer in headlights. He puts down the pen.

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he coos. You shoot to a stand, and Ajax meets you at the bottom of the staircase. “I-I just wanna get some water.” You feel meek and small, fairly avoiding his gaze. He enfolds your jaw with his bad arm like it doesn’t hurt, and pecks you on your forehead, light with anxious sweat. “I can get that for you, dear.” Before he can go, you interrupt.

“Ajax.”

“Hm?”

“The book over there, did you make it?” He alternates between you and the book and glisters his pearly whites. He delicately hauls it to you, “I was going to wait for it to be done, but you can read it now if you want.” You hesitate. You aren’t sure if you want to read it. Regardless, you ferry it in your arms, hefty despite being incomplete.

You unfurl the cover.

Page after page, your pulse pumps sonorously in your ears, uncontrollable where goosebumps surge through ebbing limbs. Without a doubt, you’re frightened. Aghast, gaping mouth with eyes the size of dinner plates. Dating from your first encounter, poems and chaotic paragraphs of infatuation. Your sleeping silhouette, columns of reverence, strands of your hair taped like art—pictures of you you’ve never seen taken behind cars and lamp posts.

The lengthy muddled captions emphasize how beautiful you are, how gracious you must be, because he hadn’t met you yet. On top of it all, written repeatedly in red and smothered in hearts, “I love you (Y/N)”. You don’t want to hold it. It’s broiling on your palms; you want it thrown in fire and scorched to shriveling. It almost reads as a manifesto, with jumbled threats sprinkled above overriding ink. Brutal crimes he’d commit if you were ever harmed, the gory actions he envisioned doing to your male customers. It’s incoherent and unorganized. The last page you flip to etches drought in your throat; A dried scrap of the towel you used to tend to his injury is taped inside. A new entry:

“ (Y/N) takes care of me! without her I am nothing my sun and star ♡ my blood and bone ♡ ♡ my goddess, my angel, the very essence of my existence ♡ ♡ my love is infinite and eternal you are destined to be mine ♡ ♡ forever, forever she is mine ”

You peek up from the book, not prepared to face the source. Ajax ogles you with heart eyes that can’t contemplate the absurdity. They surround you, limit you from speaking undulating panic. Part of you is fearful, the other reserves pure love you still have for him.

“Do you like it, honey?” No, you hate it. It’s scary and not the man you fell in love with. But those sonnets and odes dripping in honey—descriptions that trickle raw vulnerability and expose his truest intentions—are hard to detest when he treasures you earnestly. His expression, he’ll shatter to flecks if you devastate him. So, you scrape back the bile and oblige a strained smile.

“I love it, Ajax. Thank you.”

You’re excited to be at work, and relieved to see Lyney. His banter distracts you from the overbearing air at home. Ajax proceeds like nothing happened, or at least nothing for him. It’s fresh in your mind, torments your thoughts as you get ready for the day. His bare chest hugs you from behind while your brush your teeth and he trails groggy kisses from your shoulder to your jaw. It leaves heat on your ears, and dread in your stomach. The necklace going around you is a cage.

Closing arrives, and you start wrapping things up.

“Could you get the dark roast box?” Lyney asks from the bookshelf.

“Heard” you reply, strolling to storage to find that unnamed box squeezed beside larger product. Balancing the contents, you swing open the door, and let out a gasp to your shock.

“(Y/N)!” Hollers from the dining area. Collei, Tighnari, and astoundingly, Zhongli swarm near Lynette and Freminent. They’re removing their sweaters, but you don’t give Collei or Tighnari time before you charge at them with an immovable hug.

“Tiggy, Collei! Oh my god!” She welcomes your embrace, and you hear a labored sigh from Tighnari as he tries to pry your arms. “You might fracture my ribs if you keep hugging so tight.” Collei chuckles, and you break the reunion. “I missed you so much!” she bubbles, practically doing happy feet to exert her enthusiasm. You move to Zhongli and greet him with a lukewarm “Hello.”

Zhongli, your college boyfriend. The terms you ended on were neither good nor bad. He was a cold selfish player, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Unfortunately, he got clumsy with the surplus of women he juggled, and you found out you were a number among many. You shed misery in front of his dorm room, and he stilled a detached glare whilst you shouted through its paper-thin halls with unfiltered rage. It was one of the worst moments of your life. A couple years down the line, and you’ve learned to forgive him for his disrespectful, arrogant attitude.

“You look well” he charms with silky bass. “I am.”

The couple hours you spend catching up and playing board games goes fluently. Tighnari, Lynette, and Freminent rib about the rules they established mid-way through their card game, and you and Collei sit enchanted by the cozy villager simulation on her handheld console. One of her legs is on top of yours, and you’re leaning in her space. Zhongli can’t catch your sight, purposely projecting louder than usual as he enjoyed a drink made by Lyney.

“She’s so cute! What’s that one called?”

“Merengue, she’s my favorite.”

“Hope Merengue helps you with your PhD thesis” Tighnari intrudes, followed by an annoyed sigh at the “+2” card Freminent puts down.

“Ugh, don’t remind me!”

“I didn’t know you were going for a PhD, that’s great” you praise.

“I guess you wouldn’t know, since you don’t bother to call. Had to find out how you’re doing from Lyney” he jokes. You tilt your head. “Me? You have me blocked on everything.”

“You don’t come up for me either. I’ve tried calling you a few times, but it went to voicemail. I assumed you had a new phone” Collei supports. You reply with a dry chuckle, and navigate accounts you blocked, evidence they were restricted. It concludes with blank lists where their names should appear. Nothing, not even a way to add them again. This whole ordeal makes you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel bile filling the chambers of your throat, accompanied by a distinct unsettling swell on your temples. Collei notices your furrowed brows and rubs your back.

“Is everything alright?” Her voice is removed from static hammering your eardrums.

“Uh, y-yes. I need some water.” You move to the register, where Lyney is wiping down the counter. He slides you a water bottle from the mini fridge. “Don’t throw up, I just cleaned this.”

“I’ll do my best” you retort. He slants to you, whispering, “Sorry about Zhongli, they didn’t tell me he was tagging along.” You wave it off and take a swig.

“We gotta talk later. You were right...he’s hiding something.” He gives a comforting nod, and a slender hand enters your peripheral vision.

“You mind making another, Lyney?”

“God, you’re insatiable” he complains, and takes Zhongli’s cup for a refill.

“You both did an outstanding job with the café. It’s homely.” You snort, head resting on your hand. “Is that your way of saying it’s shit?”

Zhongli frowns, “I’m being serious, I’m proud of what you’ve done here.”

“Interesting. I’m surprised this isn’t a downgrade to you.”

“Anything you contribute to is an automatic upgrade.” That sad attempt at flirtation makes you scoff. “Guess your post-college affairs aren’t as frequent if you’re stooping this low.” Maybe you weren’t over it completely.

“How many times must I apologize?”

“Until you die.”

“I’m willing to do that, as many times as it takes.”

You huff, “It doesn’t matter, Zhongli. I’m in a relationship.”

“Are you happy?” You don’t have a quip for that question, and it rains on your emotions when you consider it. A flower struggles to bloom through intense downpours.

“Of course I am.” His smile is frail, and he places a mellow hand on your shoulder. “Then he has all he could ever ask for.”

The door abruptly opens. Collei’s holding it, and behind it, is Ajax. Dire tension hangs in the air, arid like the anticipation of disaster. Faint smirk and murky glower; the swirling spiral coaxes the same fear you felt last night, and the previous days. His face can’t decide what demeanor to convey, it forces gladness where darkness veils his stare. You tread away from Zhongli, praying he didn’t see the hand that was on you moments ago. Your friend's wave, but he doesn’t return the friendly gesture, instead firing a shaded cast of disgust. He saunters to you with wrenched posture, and each step makes your heart race.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t answer the phone. I was worried.” He guides you to him by your lower waist. Zhongli watches as Ajax kisses the corner of your mouth, and you beam from the one that tickles your nose. “’M sorry, not feeling so good.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d be at a party.”

“It was a surprise.”

“Ah, I see. These are your friends?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know.

“Yeah, from back home.”

“Hello” Zhongli chimes in, holding out his hand to shake. Ajax methodically turns his head to him. You swear you see a vein popping out of his forehead, a splitting stress on his teeth. “Who are you.”

“Zhongli, I’m an old friend of hers from college. We had a few classes together.”

“...Friend” he mocks with rictus, “I’ve never heard your name before.”

“Emphasis on '’old’. I figured I’d stop by since everyone else was here, it’d be a shame to waste such lovely weather-”

“You talk a lot” he states monotone. Zhongli sneers, “Some may say. I’m quite talkative during social gath-”

“So shut the fuck up.” The room hushes. You feel the witnesses shrinking themselves at the crushing tension.

“Excuse me?”

“Why were you touching her.” He’s jittery, suppressing the turbulent urge shredding through him.

“I didn’t realize she was your ‘property’” Zhongli scolds.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You put yourself between them, splaying your fingers across Ajax’s chest. His mood switches easily at your expecting gaze. “Ajax, baby, I’m tired. Can we go home now?” He pauses for a final glare at Zhongli.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and hold onto his arm as you storm out of the coffeehouse, no time for goodbyes from your friends. You center on leashing Ajax home. Blocks down, you hear the far-off patter of footsteps on stone getting louder. It’s too dinning to ignore, and as you turn around your free arm is snatched by Zhongli. You shriek, “(Y/N), wait, don’t go yet-”

Whack! His head flies back and pushes him off balance before his feet find stability. It happens so fast, and you look at Ajax, who has a most terrifying dusk pouring on his livid features. Blood gushes from Zhongli’s nose, but he straightens up tall with his fists held in front of him. Ajax cackles, and jabs between the fists that barely have time to block. His movements are fluid, swinging effortlessly after they fall to his sides. Zhongli paces back, and Ajax charges towards him with quick solid blows that make his loafers scratch on the pavement. He plants a mean gut punch to his torso, and Zhongli doubles over until Ajax punches him in the eye with steel knuckles. He collapses, but his fighting hands linger, any chance to defend himself against your merciless boyfriend. That is, until Ajax sits above him, and begins beating him to a pulp.

Whack! Whack! Whack! His hits are thundering and vicious, tracking blood to his skin from the momentum. You feel lost to time, lost on what to do to save this situation. It sounds like bone swimming in curdling clots and makes you sick. You dive to Ajax, gone by the dead visage. You snake your arms around his waist.

“Ajax! Please stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs. It falls on deaf ears, but you continue to scream. You’re sobbing into his back and yelling to a hoarse end, when suddenly the punches stop. He gets off Zhongli mechanically and braces your faint legs to rise. It’d be wholesome if not for the blood splattering his hands. He notices your tears and wipes them away, streaking faint blood across your cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here now.”

The entire walk home, he’s silent. You hate it when he’s silent. There are cuts spread over his hands and blood steadily runs from the top lip to his swollen bottom lip. He stares off in the distance, concentrated on something—rage, anger—stirring in his cotton-filled brain. You can't read him, and you wonder if you ever had that privilege.

The pieces come together themselves in a puzzle you unconsciously rejected. You can’t recall the last time you spoke to your parents. His ability to know your favorite meals without talking or gifting you outstanding presents that surfaced memories you’d long forgotten. Collei, Tighnari, Lyney, it’s unmistakable. You beg to be naïve again, hopelessly in love and enraptured.

You’d rather keep your eyes shut. The sinister rampage spilling out of him is miles apart from the Ajax who serves you breakfast in bed every day and places soft kisses on your body from head to toe. Love is enough, and you know how much he does to show it. Was there another way? Is it your fault this happened? You can’t focus either or organize your jumbled thoughts, and find yourself searching for reassurance within him, any inkling of affection to prove he still loves you. When you sheepishly reach out to grab his wounded hand, he curls around it, and the thump in your heart reignites. A pulse loud enough to subside the dread clamoring in your feet, warning you to run.

You make it home, and Ajax goes to the kitchen sink to wash away his crimes. He watches red cyclone down the drain, and you lean on a counter close to him.

“Ajax?”

“Yea?” he chirps.

“Zhongli...will he be okay?” you meek.

“Mhm. I didn’t kill him.” The matter-of-fact reply renders a shudder in your bones.

“Is something wrong?” The kitchen is small, and from the way you’re standing you’ve closed yourself off to him.

“No baby, nothings….nothings wrong” he says, that convincing tone, smooth like satin.

“But I’m worried. You’ve never acted like this before, tell me what’s on your mind.” He shuts off the water, and the cylindrical pull seeps a guttural groan. He grips the granite, and even that seems to deform. He finally turns to you, a hurt expression colliding with fiendish somber eyes and taut lips.

“Am I not good enough for you?”

“You are more than enough” you hearten. Ajax rebuttals a bitter laugh and spouts the candor he’d been gnawing on.

“I tried. I tried ignoring your kindness. I tried being pitiful, hurting myself so that your eyes were only on me”, he creeps towards you, and your feet move on their own backpedaling. The echo of his self-inflicted scar produces beads of sweat, distracting so that the back of the wooden chair presses into your back and you almost topple over. Nowhere to go, and now he overshadows you with delicate fingertips slithering across your paling cheeks and behind your jaw, “but you’re surrounded by love. People love you.”

His words drag and descend further, “Ohh, and it’s not fair at all.”

“Why are they allowed your attention. It should be me. Only me. Don’t you want me?” Laced with love, but you can’t taste it. His dilated orbs ping-pong as they scan your face for confirmation. You bring your palms over his and muster fading courage in timid waves.

“I love you Ajax. So, so much. But the way you’re acting scares me. It’s my fault and I could’ve gone home, but I haven’t seen them in a long time. I didn’t think things would end up like this.” He pauses, and engulfs you in an ardent embrace, his hand on the back of your head and another on your lower back. Oh, sweetie muffles through strands of your hair as he sways your bodies. You’re mannequin-like in his stifling sight.

“Nononono, it’s not your fault honeypot. You’re too pure for this world, so kind without thinking. So perfect” he mumbles, absurd drivel seeping through the coherent parts in formidable notes—how he loves you, needs you, can’t live without you— “but they’re leeches. They try to taint you, show you horrible, disgusting things. That piece of shit was looking at me, he was asking for a fight. And he tried to put you in the middle. You could’ve gotten hurt, or God know what. I’ll protect you, my sweet, at any cost."

“Ajax, I don’t need your protection.” It’s silent, profound when he retracts. You forget how to breathe or talk as he slides to your shoulders and holds them in place. His voice lowers.

“You don’t need…me?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-”

“So let me help, let me be yours” he pleads. You don’t respond—you can’t. Each explanation you formulate sticks to the roof of your mouth and swells like a spell drunk in your throat. Ajax tenses, clinging to your skin. He reflects on a thought, and it blooms with a twinkle.

“What if I just...lock you up?”

“...What?” you say, hardly above a whisper. It’s arid to swallow, and shivers ripple under sweltering heat prickling your limbs.

“I wouldn’t put you anywhere bad. It’d be a pretty place; I’ll take good care of you like I always do. Wouldn’t you like that?” He has a hopeful grin on his face, and when he lets you go for a second you jerk away from his reach. Your back hits the opposite wall, nauseous and lightheaded, shaking your head aggressively to push away the existence of the idea. He wrenches his neck, and you glimpse the deluded flush on his face. “No... I’m not gonna do that.”

“Ah, sweetheart, I know it sounds scary. Can we try it first?”

“You’re not gonna put me in some fucking cage like an animal” you assert. His eyebrows furrow, offended at your assumption that he’d trap you somewhere unpleasant.

“I’d never do that to you. I love you.” He inches towards you, and you inch farther. The keys are in front of him, you can’t leave on your own. The steps you take feel critical.

“Let’s sleep on it, we can discuss in the morning.” No. No no no no. You pan to the staircase, and Ajax curiously watches your paranoid glances. Before he can grab you, you sprint for the stairs. Wind travels in your ears and settles at your graceless movement catching hold of the banister, leverage used to leap. Adrenaline flows steadily in your veins, and your senses feel muddled to mush, focused on pushing your legs to proceed. There’s no room for thinking past the will of your body. You hear airy tsks coming from the dining room, and a singsong “Don’t make me chase you, baby.”

Suddenly, the creaking floorboards succeed at a roaring parade marching behind you. Closer and closer, a sound you didn’t know he possessed. You don’t dare turn around; the squeak waltzes with your deafening heartbeat. You change direction, making haste to the peaceful bedroom you share, now eroding under his hearty stomps. You clash with the door, and barge in. Slamming it shut, your shaky hands promptly lock the knob. Ajax stops in front of the door and lets his fingertips dance along the wood, “Open the door, please.”

The knob shakes aggressively, rattling in the socket and threatening to pop. It’s pulling against the edges of the door that rive at his harsh yanks. He perpetually pulls and twists it, “Darling, c’mon open the door, my sweet.” You’re sure if you don’t, he’ll axe his way through instead.

“Please let me in, baby. Please, I’m dying without you.”

“I don’t wanna fight anymore... please”, his tone barely lifts above the depth of wood, but you hear the faulty voice keeling in cracks. You know you shouldn’t open the door, but his sorrow beckons you as it often does. He wails so hopelessly, as if you’re punishing him for an unavoidable inevitable. It’s an innocent sob peerless to the ruthless violence he displayed hours before; the harrowing glare of the man you thought you knew was all too terrifying. But he’d never do that to you, would he? You’re his darling sweetheart, his infinity now and forever. You filled his divergent heart and sutured it anew. He needs you.

Though your hands fidget to stay at their sides from common sense tucked in a forgone crevice of your headache, you force your hand up, and turn the knob. Maybe you should’ve never let him into the shop on that cold night, instead bidding him farewell and trudging in the snow to your crumby apartment. You’d continue running the shop as usual with Lyney. Things would’ve been different, wouldn’t have been so complicated to cut loose from tangling lies knotting the more he consumed you.

But no, that couldn’t have happened. He would find you, it’s destiny that you’d never part. Stalking in bushes and narrow alleyways until the perfect moment he could walk towards you and catch your eye again, and you’d fall for another pass of courting words.

Ajax stands there with sparkling sadness streaming down his cheeks that mingle with his quivering lips. He drops to his knees instantly in prayer and looks up at you with doey puffy eye bags that nearly make you overlook everything, about Zhongli, about the red flags that grow green the more you squint. It’s just you and him, that’s all it had to be. In times like these you reminisce about the sweet boy you cuddled and confided in, and things feel as they were. The messy-haired Ajax you remember pulls your lower half close to him with large hands that latch onto your waist the more you adjust. His face is mushed to merging in your stomach, and he sighs heavily, taking in your scent like the last breath he’ll ever have. They snake around you, and you meet eyes again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I love you angel. So much I’d rip my heart out and put it in your hands…. you control me” Desperation clings to Ajax, and you urge to console him. You intertwine your fingers through his hair.

“Ajax, this can’t happen again. Okay?” you caution, a warning dripping with compassion.

“Mhm. Okay.” Unexpected warmth blooms over his cold aura, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands travel the contours of your hips and thighs, occasionally squeezing with an appreciative huff. He parts your legs and dips to your inner thighs to mold the doughy fat as his lips traverse your lower abdomen, decorating it with wanton kisses. “Love you so much” he utters. His touch is impassioned and fluid, he softens underneath your bottom and circles his thumb like a masseur. Ajax takes his time navigating your sensitive points, and switches between fluffy and solid pressure that licks down your back. Skin to skin contact wasn’t enough, he wanted to crawl in your ribcage and live in your lungs so he could sense your steady breaths. He wanted to bask in your existence, feel the radiance of your touch and ethereal voice curl and melt into him, to make him nothing and all in your eyes.

Your digits tangle in his hair, and when he nips your tummy, you tug his scalp. “Fuck” Ajax groans, strained through his lips. The peachy wash draping his cheeks is cherubic, appeased by the rhythmic kneading. One hand slinks under your shirt and guides a fingertip vertically on your spine, the other sculpts your rear. It’s dizzying how easy it is for Ajax to captivate you, a trance that turns your knees to jelly and leaves you at his mercy. You ignored the impulse igniting your muscles to push him off. You want him closer, suffocating you so deep the clouds of his scent dismantle your fear. You take his chin and redirect his attention, and he waits for order like a loyal dog.

“Ajax.”

“Whatever you want, princess” he toys, that boyish simper releasing butterflies through your body.

“I want you.” He hoists you up without a word and carries you to the bed. He brings you down, a priceless vase above the pillowy cushioned bedding. “You comfortable?” You nod, blushing from the way Ajax gawks at your half-hiked shirt, and shorts hanging low on your hips. “Good.” He’s breathless, restraining his impulse to pounce and devour you. No matter how restive he was, Ajax usually prevented himself from indulging beyond your comfort; but tonight is different. It's starving while a succulent meal taunts you, only satiated by the sight of it. He hastily removes his shirt and pants, freckled muscles flexing as he discards them to the floor. It’s hard to avoid the growing spot staining his stretched white briefs. Spreading your legs, he crawls between them. He regards you for a second, but when you reach behind his head he plunges into a longing kiss.

A longing kiss followed by hungrier ones. It’s abruptly rough and needy against your bruising lips, some skimming the corner of your mouth and tracking to the main course. He frees you for a breather, but the space doesn’t subdue the dull ache thrumming in your core. His nose brushes against yours, and you pull his flyaways back to get the full scale of his feral demeanor, sweating and reddening in the unshakable heat.

You collide again, hands behind your head through the wild exchange. You can’t keep up; he bites your bottom lip and relieves it with the glide of his tongue. Your slow and steady lover begs for entry with a ravenous push, and you allow it to ruin you. The wet appendage invades your senses, explores your mouth in nonsensical shapes and withdraws with a filthy sound before returning. “So. Fucking. Good” he exhales through your intertwining tongues. You’re moaning into each other, lasting in the moment, forgetting everything. His hips start to grind against you, practically dry humping your clothed lower half. You wrap your legs around him and steer his twitching length to roll into you, nudging the inseam of your shorts to your neglected clit. He engulfs your moans, and retreats with strings of spit connecting your tumid lips.

Ajax descends to your neck, and places damp and eager kisses along it. You feel the piercing remnant of a bite accompanied by sucking. His fangs pinch and snag and make you whimper. A budding purple and blue blend blotches to your collarbone--draining you like a vampire. His hands stay busy committing your curves to memory in greedy gropes. Ajax doesn’t notice his low rambling, “yea, you’d never leave me, right? I’m all you need”, to “you're mine.” It’s overstimulating, and so is the hammering pulse in your clit.

Your abused neck is exposed to the delicious sweep of cold air, and he hurries to your shirt. In one swoop, it comes off with the impatient unclasp of your bra. He submerges a stiff peak in warmth while he works the other. His tongue swirls around the nipple, pushing in with a stiff tip and trading it for sucking. It elicits a moan where teeth graze and tweak the bud. “My pretty girl” he murmurs and delivers attention to the next. Ajax massages your spit-soaked tits firmly and diligently in fondling motions. His passion renders him shameless, and it encourages you to fold. You find yourself swerving your hips to his bulge to goad his thirst. He responds with languid nudging, and glances at the space inside your shorts, coated with slick film from your panties. Whine caught in his throat, he salivates and unconciously holds your legs apart. You impel him downwards, and he nuzzles the line to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I taste you, princess?” It had to be hypothetical, since he was already unbuttoning them with his teeth and tearing them off. “Please?” he pants, a half-lidded mess itching to immerse in your desire. Before you can answer, a rrrip shreds through the room; the culprit of your mangled underwear remains, and you shriek. “Ajax!” you scold, but he’s not bothered when he rips the rest of it to display your arousal. “I’ll get you new ones, I’ll buy you the whole store” he sighs, forcing your thighs rearwards with his hands. He angles himself like a sniper and submerses in your pussy.

Ajax doesn’t rush, he lazily trails his tongue around the outside and plays with the folds shlicking against him. He outlines the clit and meticulously weaves his skillful tongue, caring for the spots that make your back arch; paying special attention to your entrance, as he teasingly delves in just enough to coax a moan, then laps a flat tongue over your wetness. Ajax’s ministrations are torturous, rapturing all while ignoring your release. He parts the labia and plashes the juices covering his chin and glossy lips. Your heart is in your ears, winding and coiling at the flicks of his tongue, his fingertips forging red indents on your thighs. Ajax begins to rock himself into the mattress, a fleeting friction comforting his sore erection. His leisurely grinding matches the pace of his mouth making out with your pussy. Mmmf he groans, and the vibrations oscillate. He gently slurps your lips, gasping for another mouthful and lapping at your clit. Your back levitates, and you tug his scalp. It only earns another growl, and faster swipes over the sensitive bud.

“O-oh fuck” you moan, watching Ajax lose his composure and rut himself into the bed like an animal. He’s panting with a quiver, whimpering some rendition of your name until he sputters. He jolts from the material emptying his balls and soaking the sheets, but his energy doesn’t deplete—It seems to motivate him as he hoists you to his mouth. Ajax always prioritizes your pleasure, but it’s difficult to stop him once he’s invested. And he isn’t done feasting, sloppily eating you up with little concern for your fluttering senses. He rides out his orgasm and brings you to yours, and you hardly realize the intoxicating slide over your clit spelling his name. Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, marked into you; It brings you to a chant as you come undone. Ajax doesn’t waste a drop, avidly cleaning up the juices pulsating out. “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much” he whispers. He swills the bud, and you spasm and squirm from ecstasy in his iron grip. “Ajax, p-please.”

“I got you.” He gives one last French kiss before exiting tranquility. A combination of spit and arousal blankets his mouth, and he smiles like the happiest man alive. “You okay?” Not a thought in fruition, tender mellowness smothering you. You wince from the prolonged position, and he immediately puts you on your side.

“Need to feel you.” He wrings his underwear down, and reveals his pulsing shaft adorned with beads of come dribbling down the rosy pale tip. He’s above you, trapping one leg over his shoulder, and aligns himself with your sex. “Perfect tits, perfect pussy. You’re so beautiful, all for me.” The bulb slips in effortlessly, and he sighs at the muscle clenching around him. Each inch drives seamlessly into you, stretching your unadjusted frame. He lulls on your ankle, absorbed by the coziness enveloping the base until he bottoms out. Then it’s unmoving. Agonizing, even, the way you feel him twitch inside. “Y-you can move now.”

“Let’s just stay like this for a little.” He rubs your leg, savoring the serene patter of rain smacking the wide windows and toasty light dusting your dazed appearance. It’s intimate and placid minus the rise and fall of your bodies, and you’re surprisingly shy. You rush to cover your face, but Ajax grabs you. “Don't hide, pretty girl. You’re stunning” he flirts, kissing your hand.

“Do you love me?” His blinks are exaggerated, confused that you’d ask such an obvious question.

“Of course.”

“What do you love about us?” He brings your hand to his cheek. “You complete me. You’ve forgiven me, loved me, and accepted me for who I am. I can be open around you.” He kisses your wrist, silken as to quell the trivial thoughts resurfacing.

“I’ll love you until the end. I’ll find you in the next life and start all over, even when this universe collapses. I won’t let anyone get in our way, so love me forever.” Ajax pulls out to the tip, and you whine at the loss of wholeness. Then, he drives his sticky cock unhurriedly to the hilt. You mewl, and he palms your chest. “Shh, ‘s okay.” The milky translucent trail links you and erupts obscene syrupy noises. “What are you thinking for baby names?” You can’t focus, the swinging strokes graze your g-spot. You’d say anything to him at this point; you need him deeper. He casually thumbs your clit and continues at a sluggish tempo. “I really like the name Aleksei” In and out, veins embellishing your walls. You meet his thrusts and shudder, though he stops occasionally to redirect the sopping length.

“A-ahn, you’re so wet, it keeps slipping out” he moans. He picks up the speed, squelching stirring with whimpers. “I love you, honeypot. Sosososo fucking much, just wanna breed this pretty pussy every second of the day. Ah- you wanna be a mommy, yeah? We can have a big family, hah, just you me and the kids. Wouldn’t you like that, darling?” He’s drilling into you, stuffed to bursting. You feel yourself approaching and seize his wrist. “’M close!”

“Give it to me, fuck, please” Ajax whines, and you climax under him, juices saturating his balls. You don’t get time to recover; he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re reeling, clawing at his forearm when he puts you flat on your back. “Wanna come inside. Can I, please? I want it so bad” he pleads. He adjusts you to a mating press with brute force, and plummets inside.

It’s vicious, staggering plap’s and squelching audible from outside. The headboard bangs on the wall while he pummels your pussy. A sheen of lust shrouds his eyes, and his heavy balls smack against your ass as he wrecks you. More, more, more drowns him in senseless fucking, precome frothing at the base. You convulse around him, and he burrows full throttle. When his tongue finds yours, you interweave through the sloppy pumps. His balls tighten, and he chases his high frenetically bobbing. “O-oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Harsher, meaner strokes hit you quick, and Ajax melts into endless whimpers striking his climax. Ropes of thick white paint your insides, teeming to globs where they crowd your pussy and leak to your ass. Ajax bucks into you, and you milk him dry. The shakes eventually stop, and he goes limp on top of you. You feel him softening, his steady inhale. He smiles at you, showering you with affection you couldn’t resist.

“I should use the bathroom” you suggest, patting his back as a signal to get off. “Sure. Wait here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He returns after an eternity, with cloudy water and a tepid towel.

“Here, drink this.” You take the cup and sip. Ajax tips it a bit, urging you to gulp. He wipes you down lovingly while you swallow the contents. He disregards your vulva, however, collecting the come on his fingers and pushing it in. Oddly, you’re leaden—insanely leaden, so much so that your head tilts to one side and threatens to give up entirely. Your knees are wobbly, and your bones are lost in a dreamlike state. Ajax passes the towel under your chest.

“You know, I didn’t feel bad about it, when I strung his guts across the wall. I only thought of you.”

No. It can’t be true.

You can’t scream or fight, and simply gape at the words hulking through your numbed rationale. The towel cools your sweat, but the fear persists.

“I met him behind your complex. He was bitching about rent, sleazy fucking scum. I asked him if you live there, and he went on a rant about it. Saying nasty stuff no one should ever say about you. I couldn't help it, (Y/N), I had to see his organs carved out of his body.” Your jackhammering heart doesn’t compare to your sloth behavior. You want to run, move in with your parents again and pretend; pretend like your life hasn’t been propelled into disarray, pretend that the ginger boy caressing your face didn’t butcher a man.

“Ajax, let me go” you cried, a teardrop coursing across your temple. He wipes it, “I’m not holding you, dear. You can’t stand on your own right now, but the effect will wear off after you sleep. Rest for now, okay sweetie?”

“What did you put...in my...” You’re swooning, ferried by the effect of the unknown medicine sprinkled in your cup. With no will to combat, your eyes reluctantly close. His pupils are desolate and obscure, the night of a severe blizzard.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

tags: @zhochikennugget (if anyone else would like to be tagged, dm and i'll tag you on the next one :)

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin au #ajax smut #ajax x reader #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin tartagalia #i need ajax BAD #so sorry about the wait this time

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delulujuls · 8 months

Text

it's just us | mv33

hi! i can't get enough of my dutch duo, so here comes the third part of the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess and if you didn't read the second part of it but you wanna catch up, here it is!

you can read each of this solo and you can read it all like series. it work well both ways!

so yeah, as usual, bon apetit and enjooooy x

summary: y/n is upset by some media nonsense she read online but max is here to remind her that at the end of the day its just them and the rest doesn't really matter

warnings: i tried with a smut but im not sure how it went, sexual content, +18, eating p, praising, comfort sex?

pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen

The kiss didn't change anything between Y/N and Max.

In the other hand, it changed everything, but it absolutely did not affect their relationship. There were no nervous questions, no timid behavior, no checking whether a quick kiss at the strategists' table was okay, or whether it was necessary to count down the seconds of the hug they exchanged with each other after the race so that it wouldn't last too long.

To be honest, their entry into a relationship was a kind of relief for the entire team. Christian Horner himself, the team father of the two flying Dutch, seeing them kissing after winning the podium, just shook his head and with a slight smile admitted "Finally, fucking hell".

Of course, the media did not leave a single dry spot on Red Bull drivers. The couple, of course, did not flaunt their feelings left and right, because it was absolutely not their style, but it was difficult to take a seat in the car without a quick kiss and wishing each other good luck. And we know how hungry reporter hyenas are.

"This is absurd"

The girl shook her head and threw the phone into the pillows. It was already late in the evening and the couple was getting ready for bed, as they had a long media day ahead of them tomorrow.

"I told you not to read this nonsense."

Max replied, emerging from the bathroom in shorts and drying his wet hair with a towel.

Y/N didn't answer. She kept her eyes glued to the sheets and felt her stomach begin to ache from nerves. Max knew perfectly well that the lack of an answer meant only one thing. The overthinking machine already started.

He put the towel aside and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her temple.

"Look at you, a fearless Dutchess worrying about some stupid texts. That's not in your style at all"

He spoke jokingly, trying to cheer her up a bit. However, she was really touched.

"It's just making me sick when someone is saying made up bullshit"

She replied bitterly, feeling tears forming under her eyelids. She could deny with her arms and legs that these were tears of anger, but in the reality she was simply hurted. And Max knew this perfectly well.

"You know very well that this bunch of idiots will write anything for views. At the end of the day, only you and I know the truth. It's just us, remember?"

He said calmly and stroked her shoulder. Y/N sniffed. Max was absolutely right. It's just them and that was all that mattered. Even though she received numerous criticisms in the media over the years, newspapers and Internet portals often trashed her, all this did not make any impression on her. Unfortunately, it was different in this case, because it was no longer just about her. It was about them, about her and Max.

She raised her head and met a pair of blue, gentle eyes. The ocean was calm, july was dominating the cloudless sky. She herself slowly began to feel calm, accepting that it was just meaningless nonsense.

"I love you, but you already know that, right?"

She asked, smiling slightly.

He nodded and returned her smile, kissing her forehead.

"The only thing that matters is that we have each other and we love each other. And as a certain genius said, fuck 'em all."

"Fuck 'em all"

The girl repeated and smiled wider, causing the last tears of sadness and anger to leave the corners of her eyes. Max wiped her cheeks and lifted her chin, kissing her.

Y/N kissed him back, touching his rough cheek. He easily pulled her onto his lap and she sat on his soft thighs, laughing quietly. She knew exactly where this was going.

"We have a lot of work tomorrow, Max."

"We will boycott media day tomorrow. 'Red Bull drivers protest against idiotic headlines' sounds better, doesn't it?" he asked, being so serious that the girl burst out laughing, "Or better yet, 'Red Bull shock!' Couple had sex until dawn to boycott the media', yes!"

"With the link 'see photos', definitely," she added, laughing.

Max took her face in his hands.

"I much prefer it when you smile, you know?"

Y/N nodded and leaned in, kissing him again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she tangled her fingers in his still damp hair. Their kisses were slow and tender, filled to the brim with love. Years of arguments, making up and standing up for yourself only to argue and slam doors again led to a place where there was an incredible amount of love to give and receive from both sides.

Max slipped his hands under her shirt, squeezing lightly her soft flesh. The girl sighed quietly into his mouth and he smiled at her reaction. If he thought that after so many years, he would fall in love overnight with the girl he always had by his side, he would laugh at himself.

He took off her shirt, so there was no longer any blockage between their heated bodies. Skin pressed against skin, lips pressed against lips. These moments were incredibly soothing for both of them. One might think that after so much time spent together, both in good and bad relationships, one cannot count on any elation. What wrong thinking this is.

Max grunted softly as he grabbed and pressed her closer to him. His soft purr, which lightly touched the girl's ear, gave her goosebumps. He moved from his mouth to her neck, leaving wet, slightly pink traces on her skin. Y/N involuntarily closed her eyes, feeling both the softness of his lips and his rough, scratchy stubble.

"I love the way you smell"

He said quietly, almost in a whisper. She smiled to herself and gently grabbed his hair, tilting his head back, making him break away from her neck and they were able to look into each other's eyes again.

"I taste even better though"

She lunged seductively and crashed into his mouth again. Max easily grabbed her thighs and lifted her, throwing her onto the bed.

"You always have to do this, right?"

He asked, his breathing a little quicker. His aura instantly darkened, and his eyes seemed bottomless. Y/N frowned a bit, not knowing what he meant. But seeing him like this, she only wanted one thing. Him.

"You always have to throw something away, set me straight. Always."

She raised herself on her elbows, looking at him with a slight smile and thus posing a challenge to him.

"You could try to humble me"

As soon as she finished speaking, he pressed her body against the mattress and kissed her deeply. The girl wrapped her legs around his hips and wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted to be closer, as close as possible.

Their kisses were still full of love, but now the tenderness gave way to passion. When Max moved to the girl's neck, she felt her lips burning and swollen. It didn't help when she bit down on them, feeling Max suck on her nipple. Blue eyes carefully followed the girl's rosy face, wanting to make sure she was giving her nothing more than pleasure.

When his teeth hit the soft skin, a long groan filled the bedroom. Max smiled, licking her breast while massaging the other one with his hand. He much preferred to hear her moans rather than Dutch insults. After a few moments, he moved lower again, kissing his way across her stomach. He tightened his large hands on her sides and buried his face in her stomach. She smiled at his gesture, running her fingers through his hair.

"You're soft, so soft. Fuck, so soft."

Max murmured, his face still pressed against her stomach. Y/N couldn't help but laugh quietly. This whole situation, the very fact that they were now apparently a couple, was unthinkable to her. And the fact that they were both adults and now they were acting like a couple of teenagers.

"Simply, simply lovely"

He shook his head and placed a few more kisses on her skin until he reached the waistband of her panties. He looked up at her face again, wanting to make sure she had her consent, but she, still smiling slightly, just nodded in answer.

Max undressed her completely in one move and spread her legs, hugging her thighs. As soon as his tongue passed over her clit, she closed her eyes and licked her lips. This wasn't the first time they had had sex, but Y/N had already become familiar with certain behaviors Max displayed in bed, and one of them was the desire to please his partner. Max loved to take, but God, he loved to give even more.

As his tongue moved over her clit in smooth, circular motions, his eyes studied her body carefully. Her hard, pink nipples, uneven moving chest, her dry, parted lips, rosy face, her tightly shut eyelids. Max smiled slightly, proud of himself of turning her into such mess. Y/N involuntarily opened her eyes and looked down her body, causing their eyes to meet.

"Do you like it, schat?"

He asked, pausing his movements. He blew lightly on her pink, swollen clit, making her shiver.

"Mhm, please -just, just don't stop"

"As you wish, love"

He replied, going back to work. Her hand involuntarily tightened on his hair and it didn't take much for her back to arch and an orgasm to fill her body. A loud, long moan broke the density that had reigned in the hotel bedroom. Her head felt heavy and dizzy, and it was hard for her to breathe. Max pulled himself up and kissed her, moistening her dry lips with her own juices, which made him all wet. Y/N smiled and hugged his neck, giving him wet, sloppy kisses. He was resting one hand next to her head, and with the other he was trying to free himself from his suddenly too tight and slightly soaked shorts. When he succeeded, he slowly inserted himself into her hot, tight and incredibly wet interior. She broke the kiss, parting her lips at the sudden sensation, digging her nails into his bare, muscular back.

"Fuck, Max, oh my god-"

"Yeah, i know baby" he muttered, stopping his movements "I'll be gentle, take your time"

Max kissed her, wanting to help her relax. She returned each of his kisses, which were now delicate and tender. Max was incredibly gentle and had countless layers of love inside him. His tender touch, sweet nothings whispered straight into the ear, the certainty that his partner is happy and feels incredible pleasure. Max seemed to her as an incredibly selfish asshole at times, but in this case it had absolutely no effect. The only thing he cared about at that moment was pleasing her and distracting her from negative thoughts. After some time, he began to move slowly inside her, feeling that she is not so tense anymore and soon any discomfort disappeared and was replaced by incredible pleasure. Y/N wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer, kissing him deeply.

"I'm all yours now" she said, smiling slightly into his mouth.

"You are and always been mine"

He replied and kissed her back. His movements went from slow and calm to faster and more decisive, increasing in intensity with each passing minute. Single moans that had been thrown into the thick air filling the bedroom some time ago now cut through them like bullets. Max felt the sweat that had formed on his back sting the scratches left by the girl's nails. He sat back on his heels and wrapped his arms around her thighs, now fucking her to the point where they skin were clapping on each other. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her thighs, his still damp hair falling into his eyes. His lips were bitten and every now and then a low moan escaped his throat. His arm and abdominal muscles flexed and relaxed steadily, and numerous love marks adorned his fair skin.

"You look so good, and feel -fuck, feel so good, too"

Y/N moaned, clenching her hands on the sheets, feeling how he perfectly hit her inner, sensitive spot with each movement.

"And you are doing so good by taking me so well, baby"

The truth was that she was a total mess underneath him. She wasn't even fully aware of her words or of her actions, all of this was feeling so good, he was feeling so good.

It didn't take much for either of them to reach their orgasm, which came over them almost simultaneously. A moment later they were lying next to each other, Y/N resting her cheek on his chest and her hand lying limply on his stomach. He was hugging her, tracing lines on her arm.

"I hope you won't worry anymore about any stupid things said by other people"

Max said and kissed her temple. She smiled and raised her head, kissing him on the cheek.

"At the end of the day it's just us, right?"

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #mv33 #mv1

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karoochui · 11 months

Note

What im hearing is:

Little crow feet outside my window bcs im feeding them- that’s besides the point!

Is there magic??? His shovel looks magic and they look magic

And do give me every detail you are thinking of for the series even if its in the distant future or not that relevant but you want to share

Crows!! Cute!! Also sorry i didnt get to this sooner my laptop BROKE (still broken but usable) and my mom and i have been looking for someone to fix it. Ive been drawing with it sparingly to be careful.

YES there is magic. Of course im still working on this storywise but im getting characters designs n whatnot done right now. Dynamics n stuff. BUT i do have some refs i made before my laptop broke.

I like to draw out certain stuff so that it helps with descriptions in the future; i have the worst memory so it helps to be able to do so. (More beneath cut)

Im so excited for moon's shadow form. Oh my god. Its probably my favorite thing right now.

Fun thing about it is that in this form he can touch you but you cant touch him. Something something you can be cast in shadow but you cant take it off yk? He's still light sensitive like this though, so if the area hes in isn't dark enough or he's hit with anything too bright he just reverts back. At that point he'd just have to rely on normal hand to hand stuff and his sand lol. The shadow form is just better for sneaking and speed. Really, he's some amalgamative idea of the sandman and boogieman. I thought it fit well with his whole "naptime attendant gone wrong" thing.

Sun's design, however, is more like if you mixed a cowboy, wizard, and gravedigger together. I made it a while ago on a whim with no intention behind it but then i ended up thinking "ykw would be so awesome".

The hat dips to cover the crescent side of his face (not intentional on his part) to symbolize his resentment towards moon and how he basically damned him to an hourglass. His eyes are easier to see bc of this which could seem more trusting (eyes are the window to the soul or whatever), but the thing is thats not normal for him (as we know) so it's meant to make him look suspicious and looming to 4th wall viewers. There's also the fact that i just thought it was cool too.

He also doesn't get a second form. Moon's sneaky and weird so i thought it would fit to give him some freaky thing iykwim. Sun, however, is a pretty "in your face" kinda guy, so his look and fight style is more extravagant and boisterous. Lots of swinging amd yelling and boom bang zap! Despite the showiness he's actually a longer range fighter. Mainly because unlike moon, thousands of years ago, he wasn't often one to get violent with his hands. His weapon is just obnoxiously large too though.

They are still one animatronic and their transformation is still triggered by light. Instead of an AI chip though (which is still in there but long dead), they live through the work of a soul. They're still physically inorganic but as far as spiritually they're as close as they're gonna get to being human. Their life and functionailty is derived from the magic itself, not the machinery. Like if for some reason they lost all their magic they'd just drop dead from a battery life long since drained.

The hourglass has a carousel-like design to it purely as reference to moon's level in Help Wanted 2.

Sorry for rambling so much but this is what i've got for you so far! I have a general idea for the plot but im tryna to make it more than what it is rn, so i dont wanna share too much of that just yet in case i change or completely toss away an idea.

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf security breach #sundrop #fnaf moon #moondrop #binary resurgence: round 2 au #binary resurgence #my asks #mikas stuff #dca x reader #dca x y/n #sun x reader #moon x reader

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mi-ni-me · 7 months

Text

Hooooooomygawd. This is exactly what I was ranting about in my last post! I should’ve been posted this, but of course everytime I try I get immediately distracted and start scrolling or completely forget and walk away doing something else 😅. BUT HEYYYYY IM HEREEEE, and I’ve decided this week’s spread is underfell based since that’s what most doodles I had were🌚. So let’s just jump right into it,,

1-4.)First off an Underfell! Papyrus spread cause I luv him and I wanted to have one to match his brother. I’ve been planning on doing spreads for each skeleton but obviously that’s going to take a little longer than planned lol! My underfell papyrus has no eye-lights, not because he’s blind but because I like it best aesthetically. I also hc he wakes up early to go to the store, but is still grumpy cause it’s 5 am…even though it’s his personal routine he did to himself🌚. Though! He wears sweats and that’s the ONLY time you’ll catch him in some sweats. His primary weapon is a sharp ended bone for easy access, he’s 6’6 with his heeled boots on, which are inspired by a certain someone. Finally, he has a stinky lazy cat named Doomfanger, I personally don’t like cats but I’d try for him,,

5,6,7.)HOO doggy I needs him😩 my uf!Gaster otherwise known as “Ego” n some background info for him and the boys when they were younger. He was the Royal Mad Scientist and very smart yet incredibly self centered, his experiments sons Sans and Papyrus stay home until he gets back after long hours and can be gone for days at a time. Though his oldest, Sans is very responsible they still wish he didn’t work his hours. Finally, before his disappearance into the core, his sons were both visiting before everything went down, Dr.Gaster, who after finally achieving SOMETHING within the core is faced with two incredibly difficult choices, he who is OBVIOUSLY MAD!!!!!??! Decides to instead leave his children in order to see the truth. This without a doubt is one of the first of many hardships young Sans and Payrus face.

8,9,10.)Last but not least a cat study page for Doomfanger since I found out I wanted to draw a cat without knowing how to draw a cat whatsoever, so I practiced!! Doomfanger is stinky cause he doesn’t like baths, lazy from lack of discipline (surprising but Edge can’t even yell at the poor thing.), and greedy from overeating, does this sound like someone we know?🌚 He has a scar across his left eye and half his fluffy tail is almost bare leaving only fluff at the end. Doomfanger doesn’t get along well with his uncle, which many find odd as they’re incredibly similar, too bad they don’t see it themselves. (Bonus Edge holding kitten Doomfanger, the beginning of a deadly friendship. And yes this one is noticeably newer than the others but it’s on the same page and fits the theme so let’s assume it was there from beginning 🌚😂)

#my art #undertale #sans #underfell gaster #underfell sans #underfell #underfell papyrus #paprus #self insert #doomfanger #uf!gaster #me w uf!papyrus #2023 #traditional art

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daemour · 8 days

Text

♡ Event: @pirateeznet 2nd Anniversary Event

♡ Pairing: Farmhand! Choi San x home aide! f! Reader

♡ Genre: Harvest Moon AU, slight slow burn, fluff, slight angst, T for Teen

♡ Warnings: Cursing, some sexual innuendos at the end, that's it

♡ Summary: Working as a home aide on a farm brings you some new trials...namely a certain attractive farmhand named San.

♡ Word Count: 9277 (im SORRY)

♡ Genre: Regular Life ; Prompt: Coworkers

This was supposed to be...a lot longer. LAMFIJGDFJKGHKJSHDF x) With both Hwa and Joong as other love interests...but I gotta learn how to restrain myself LOL. But I do have more planned with YN and San (and a little more spicy too hehe) so if you'd like to read that let me know!

it's a honker of a fic, so i really do hope you enjoy despite the plot holes LMAO

Thank you to @okiedokrie for beta'ing,,,the first draft lmaooo surprisee...its totally different lol

“Are you serious?” you mutter, standing knee-high in a mud puddle. When you decided to move out of the city and stay with an elderly man as a home nurse on his farm temporarily, you expected to get dirty. But not like this, and not that soon. The wagon was only able to take you so far before you had to walk the rest of the way since it was technically private property or whatever the guy said. You didn’t quite remember his reasoning, and it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if it hadn’t started pouring about five minutes after you started walking. Now you’re cold and wet, and mud is everywhere.

With a frustrated groan, you try and take another step, wincing at the feeling of the mud squelching in your shoes and soaking your socks through. You’re having regrets, but you’re sure the ailing older man is having worse issues than wet socks and shoes and you power through. After a long and gruelling walk, you finally see the cream building and connected barn and you sigh in relief.

“Oh, man, you look a mess,” a voice is heard from behind you and you shriek, dropping down to the ground and clutching at your heart. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. YN, right?”

You nod miserably. “Yeah. This is Aria farm?” You punctuate it with a sniff as you try to regain your dignity.

The man laughs, much more high-pitched than you expected. “Yup. I’m the farmhand, San.” He holds out his hand. “Need a hand up?”

With a shaky smile, you nod, grabbing his hand and letting him pull you up. His grip is strong, warm, and calloused, and you shoo away any unwanted thoughts. “Got caught in the rain?” San smiles apologetically like he was the one who brought the showers down upon you.

“Yeah, I sure did.” You return the smile with a weak one of your own. “Got dumped at the end of the road by the wagon, and not five minutes later I got poured on.”

San winces. “Oh, well, sorry that had to be your first welcome here. I’ll give that guy a talk later—he means no harm, just likes to play pranks.”

You grunt, not caring all that much about the villagers in the town, pranks or not. You have no doubt that the wagoneer meant no harm, nor that the villagers aren’t nice, but most of your days will be spent cooped up with the old farmer in his house. Plus, you decided to move away from the city to get away from people and let your introversion take over.

It takes a moment for you to realise he’s expecting you to keep up a conversation. “How is Mr Takeru doing?”

San shrugs, his eyes continuously flickering back to you. “He’s doing fairly well, all things considered. The fall left him physically incapable of a lot, but his energy hasn’t dwindled at all.” There’s a fondness in his voice. “He’s happy to hear you’ll be coming. He loves having people around and his kids barely visit. To no fault of their own, of course. They’re all on different islands, farming as well and it’s hard to get away.”

You hum. You’ve heard of their family situation, how Takeru’s kids all followed in his footsteps to become farmers, and that their children also went on to become farmers. It’s interesting, and you sometimes wonder if it’s something they all wanted. “It’ll be nice for him to have someone around,” you tell an attentive San. “It would’ve been great for him if some of his family could see him, but I’m sure he’s excited anyway.”

As you talk to San, you don’t realise how quickly the two of you walk until you are already at the house’s porch. San opens the door, stepping in, but you hesitate for just a moment. You almost turn tail if it wasn’t for the warm smile San offers.

“Don’t worry, I promise Mr Takeru is super nice. And I’ll always be happy to keep you company.” His eyes crinkle as his smile widens even further, and you can’t help but feel your face warm at how sweet he is.

“I’ll have to hold you to that, then.”

“Are you going to the flower festival tomorrow?” San catches you right when you go out to grab the mail.

You tilt your head as you flip through the many letters. Nothing of too much importance, just a couple of notices from the local stores. You see a letter from one of Mr Takeru’s kids and you smile at the sight of it before realising you hadn’t responded to San. “The what?”

“Flower festival,” San repeats himself, a smile growing on his face. It always seems to be there when you see the farmhand. “It’s a holiday where couples enjoy the cherry blossoms together and all.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “San, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not quite part of the couples demographic.” The farmhand’s eyes sparkle at your joke, but his gaze does not waver.

“You could go with me,” he suggests and you choke on the spot. “I’m being serious! It’s a really nice time and it’d be a shame if you missed it.”

You sigh, glancing behind you. “We’ll see. I might be busy tomorrow.”

San still smiles triumphantly at your answer. “If you do decide to come, I’ll meet you at the church grounds at seven.” And before you can even respond, he winks and walks away, making sure to flex his back muscles. If you can’t rip your eyes away, that's your own problem.

As the clock ticks closer and closer to six, you get more and more antsy. You’re still debating whether to go. One part of you wants to go so he won’t wait in vain, but the other part of you wants to avoid all sorts of contact with people. Every time you go and buy groceries for Mr Takeru, the villagers all stop to stare at you. And you know it’s partly your fault for never trying to get to know them, but you really would rather stay a hermit.

But San, he was different. Although you’ve only been here for a few weeks, San seems to have taken an interest in you. He’s always finding an excuse to talk to you, be it lunch break or asking to pass a message to Mr Takeru. You’re not quite sure what his motive is, but you’re not complaining. He’s good-looking, kind, and makes an effort to get to know you. Perhaps you should return the kindness.

When the clock strikes half past six, you know it’s the last moment before you can make your decision. After a moment’s hesitation, you call up the stairs “Mr Takeru, I’ll be going out! Do you have everything you need?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he responds, “Mmh, I’ve got my cane so I’m all good. Going to the festival, I see?”

“Bye, Mr Takeru” You roll your eyes good-naturedly even if he can’t see it, grabbing your bag and practically launching yourself out the door. If you run, you’ll make it just in time.

You’re sure you look crazy, running down the streets while attempting to pull your hair away from your face to no avail, but time is of the essence. You manage to smile at the villagers who wave at you, but you’re panting hard and you think your legs might fall off as you take the church steps three at a time.

As you catch your breath, you can see San out of the corner of your eye approaching with the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face. “You came!”

You open your mouth to respond but all that comes out is a hack from the lack of air in your lungs. San laughs, reaching over to pat you on the back as you take a moment to catch your breath. “My gosh, I am not cut out for running,” you gasp, finally straightening up and brushing your hair out of your face.

San’s hands slow as he shifts them lower to rest at the small of your back. “Well, I’m glad you made it anyway. Come sit with me and my friends. They’ll be happy to see you came.”

Without giving you a moment to protest, San sweeps you away towards the back corner of the courtyard. The two people sitting on a blanket you recognise—the farmer you buy your groceries from and the bartender who walks past Mr Takeru’s farm on the way to work in the afternoon, and neither of their names you ever got.

“Guys, this is YN,” San introduces you and you give a little wave as they chorus your name with ‘hi’s. “This is Wooyoung, and that’s Yunho.” He points to the bartender and the farmer respectively.

“Good to finally get your name,” Yunho smiles at you, a bright smile lighting up his face. “You’ve been shopping with me for what, two weeks now?”

You laugh awkwardly. “Yeah, just about.” You silently beg for the topic to change because San is sensitive about how you buy groceries elsewhere since a storm destroyed most of the farm’s crops. “What does one do at the flower festival?”

Wooyoung and Yunho exchange a glance between each other, their eyes soft. “Generally couples sit together and watch the flowers fall and talk about each other. At the end, you pick up a blossom and blow it after making a wish,” Yunho explains, the corner of his lips pulling up as Wooyoung leans into his body. “I’m here with Wooyoung.”

He immediately realises this is not the best thing to say as your face heats up and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. “You don’t have to be in a romantic relationship to go, of course!” San immediately rectifies, his hands shooting out to smack Yunho in the shoulder. “I always go with friends.”

A smile pulls at your lips even though you’re still a little awkward at the revelation. “Well, thank you for inviting me anyway,” you bow slightly. “It’s nice to get a little scenery difference.”

Wooyoung laughs at that. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen you away from the farm since you arrived, barring your visits to Marimba and Horn Ranches.” You duck your head shyly and San swoops to your rescue.

“Not that you’re any better, Wooyoung. All you do is work and go home to sleep,” San teases. “Except when Yunho makes you go outside, of course.”

Both Wooyoung and Yunho immediately blush red and you laugh at the sight. “You two are cute together though,” you compliment. “Hopefully one day I can have a relationship like yours.” You miss the soft gaze sent your way by San, but neither Wooyoung nor Yunho do and they exchange a look before smiling back at you.

“I’m sure you will one day.”

It’s pouring buckets out there and even San has taken the day off. There’s nothing to do on the farm other than feed the animals, and the day before San had put extra food in their buckets for that occasion exactly. Mr Takeru is fast asleep and all you’re doing is sitting in the living room and trying to focus on reading. But it’s not coming to you.

With a sigh, you put your book back down and move to stand near the window, staring at the bleary landscape. That’s when you see it. A little glimmer of light right by the bending tomato plants. You narrow your eyes, unsure if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but then it happens again. Now you’re sure something is out there, and against your better judgement, you’re going to find out what it is.

With another glance towards Mr Takeru, who doesn’t seem to be waking up anytime soon, you pull on a raincoat and open the front door. The wind almost slams it shut but you catch it just in time, slipping out of the house and closing it gently instead.

The wind is practically bullying you as you make your way slowly over to the garden. When you finally reach the plants, you squint but can’t seem to find anything, but you swear you saw something. Your eyes dart around to see if you can find it again, and another sparkle catches your eye further down the road.

You cast a glance back at the house, inner debate raging in you. But at heart, you’re forever a toddler and you go chase after the pretty lights.

The farther you go, the more you’re starting to regret your choices. But you’re too far to find your way back—although you’ve been here for almost a month now, you’re not all that well-versed in where things are around this island. Yet another point into why you should’ve just stayed at the farm.

With a groan, you take another step closer, making your way through a tunnel of trees. The rain only seems to get heavier but you can still see the faint sparkling but not much around it and you step closer.

Suddenly, the rain melts away to reveal a little grove and a giant tree standing tall and proud. The only thing that tells you were just in the rain is the fact that you’re soaking wet. You blink, step back, and the rain falls around you again. Another step forward, and the sun is shining again.

You rub your eyes, sure you must be going crazy. But the sunny area is still in front of your eyes. As much as your brain is screaming at you to turn back and make your way home, your curiosity gets the better of you. You take a few steps closer, marvelling at the old spring on either side of the stone pathway you’re on.

You’ve heard of the stories of the fae and magic surrounding this island, mostly from Mr Takeru himself, but you always chalked it up to him being old, as much as you thought it would be nice for it to be real. And here you are, standing in the middle of what can only be called magic surrounding you.

The area looks almost unoccupied, with more of the sparkles that drew you out of the house in the first place flitting around. You take a couple of steps closer when someone steps out from behind the tree. “What are you doing here?” You don’t recognise the figure standing in front of you, with perfectly coiffed hair and a frown upon his pouting lips.

You blink at him. “Uh, I was taking a walk and ended up here. What is this place?”

The blonde man blinks at you. “You don’t know? It’s the Goddess Spring, home of the tree that powers our island. Though…I guess you are new here.”

You frown, cocking your head. “Sorry if I seem rude, but I don’t think I’ve met you. Who are you?”

The stranger’s piercing blue eyes widen and he laughs, waving his hands. “Oh my, I can’t believe I forgot my manners. I’m Park Seonghwa, son of the mayor of this little island. My father speaks highly of you and how well you care for Mr Takeru.”

His hand is firm and warm although his palms are softer than San’s. “Nice to meet you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him warmly. “Your father speaks proudly of you as well.”

You can’t believe you haven’t made the connection. Seonghwa isn’t the spitting image of his father per se, but they look similar enough to each other, especially in their eyes. Mayor Gil and Seonghwa both have the same stare.

The young man smiles again, shaking his head. “My father can be passionate. Now that he’s older, he tells me he has less grievances against the world. But I am curious—what are you doing here? It’s still pouring out there.”

You shrug, a little embarrassed. “I was just following some…uh…sparkles.”

“Sparkles? Nothing else?” Seonghwa’s facial expression shifts to one of curiosity. Your eyebrows furrow at his intensity and his features soften as he chuckles. “Ah, I don’t mean to alarm you. This island has a rich history behind this little grove. Are you busy?”

You shrug, glancing behind you. “No, not really. I’m not really in the mood to walk all the way back to the farm in the rain. I’m a big history fan anyway.”

Seonghwa shrugs, gesturing to the stone bench up further on the stone pathway. “Come and sit then. The story starts with this tree.”

To be honest, you don’t understand much of what Seonghwa explains. Something about bells and trees powering the island, and how only the line of mayors and Mr Takeru’s family can see the magic. But Seonghwa seems so passionate about it, and you have no reason to disbelieve it, not when you’ve witnessed the grove itself, so you just smile and nod and do your best to comprehend.

Seonghwa is finishing up his story of how Mr Takeru single-handedly revived the island when he takes a glance at his watch and gasps. “I’ve kept you far too long,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sure the rain has stopped, you should make your way back to the farm before it gets dark.”

Your brows furrow, glancing up to see the sun getting close to the west. “Oh, crap,” you gasp, “I need to start dinner. Do…do you happen to know the way back to the farm? I didn’t quite see how I got here.”

Seonghwa chuckles. “Yes, you can just take a left out here and follow the path down the mountain. It should lead you to the pond right by Aria Farm. I’ll see you around town, then.”

You nod, promising him to try and find time to visit him in town before booking your way out of the grove. He was right, the rain had slowed to a drizzle that hardly bothered you. You’re making your way down the mountain, rushing so much you can hardly enjoy the view you missed on your way up.

As soon as the blue roof of the farmhouse comes into vision, you can’t help but smile to yourself at the familiar sight. Your little adventure was fun but now it’s time to go back. As you unlock the door and swing it open, your vision is immediately blocked by a firm, warm chest and strong arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “YN, where were you?”

San’s worried voice reaches your ears and your initial shock wears off as you tilt your head back to look at him. “I went on a walk and found some grove near the mountains,” you explain honestly, and San’s eyebrows raise into his bangs.

“A walk? YN, are you insane? I came around to make sure you both were okay and Mr Takeru told me he didn’t know where you had gone. It was a crazy storm out there too. You have to be careful, YN. I– you could’ve gotten hurt.”

San’s arms tighten around your shoulders and your face heats up as you pat his back awkwardly. “Well, I agree it was pretty stupid of me, but I’m fine and here! I won’t do it again, I promise,” you try and cheer him up while also doing your best to wriggle out of his grip. It’s embarrassing for you to be so close, you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off of your ears. He’s too hot for you to be this close to and you need some space before you combust.

You finally manage to untangle yourself, offering a smile to ease the distance between the two. “How long were you waiting for me, anyway?”

San sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. “Maybe just about three hours? I think I was about ten minutes away from going out to look for you myself. I mean, the rain only stopped an hour ago, it’s understandable I was worried.”

He’s trying to convince himself more so than you, but you can’t really blame him. You would’ve been the same way in his shoes. You try not to think about what would happen if he had suddenly disappeared in the rain. “No, I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” you shake your head, glancing away in guilt. “I just thought something was out there and went on a wild goose chase. Turns out it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. But in the grove I went to, I finally met the mayor’s son.”

San’s expression shifts to one of understanding. “Seonghwa? He’s nice, I’m glad you’ve met him.” He finally smiles back, softly, but shakes his head as if remembering where he is. “Er, I suppose I should let you go have dinner now. You must be hungry.”

He slips out of the door before you can even respond, the thought of inviting him for dinner only popping into your head as he’s already halfway down to the river, his form glowing gold in the sunset. You poke your head out to call for him, but your nerves get the better of you and you just watch him grow smaller and smaller in the distance.

“You should go for it.” A hoarse voice interrupts your swirling thoughts and you turn back to see Mr Takeru leaning on his cane and smiling kindly at you. “You’re young, and pretty. Anyone can see clear as day that San likes you. You know, he was quite worried when you were out.”

You swear there is steam radiating off of your face. “Ah, Mr Takeru, don’t get my hopes up,” you laugh. “There’s no way San sees me as much more than a friend. Now, let’s get dinner started, no?”

Mr Takeru just sighs, a melancholy smile on his face. “You should run right after him before it’s too late, you know. But yes, let’s have dinner YN.”

You stand in front of the door of the mayor’s house, debating whether to walk in or not. When you received an invitation for lunch from Seonghwa earlier this morning, he had assured you that you could walk right in without knocking, but you felt a little too awkward to do that.

“What are you doing here?” A sharp voice startles you and you jump, looking over your shoulder guiltily. A silver-haired man with sharp eyes and thick robes gazes at you with an uninterested expression on his face.

“Ah– Seonghwa invited me for lunch here,” you explain, glancing back at the door.

Before you can say anything, the strange, eccentric man brushes past you, the many bracelets and necklaces he has on jingling. “Well, then. He’s up to one of his schemes to get me to socialise again. He invited me for lunch too. Come on in.”

He swings the door open, stepping inside the house and you stare at him with wide eyes before scurrying after him. The outside of the house is filled with flowers lining the stepping stones, but the inside of the house is more mature in decor, with dark oak tables and brown wallpaper. The stranger glances at you, having noticed your eyes wandering the decor and he laughs shortly. “Quite the juxtaposition of interior and exterior, no? Mayor Gil’s late mother had designed the inside and so the mayor hasn’t had the heart to change it.”

You’re about to respond when one of the doors to your right slams open, revealing Seonghwa standing there with messy hair and a sullen look on his face. “Sorry, I’m going to have to cancel lunch. My father has fallen ill with cow fever. YN, I’m so sorry to have to turn you away but I don’t want you to catch it, or Mr Takeru for that matter.” He heaves a sigh, then turns to the stranger. “Hongjoong, could you do me a favour and bring me some medicine?”

The man—Hongjoong—nods sharply and spins on his heel, striding out the door without a moment’s hesitation. You falter just a moment, shooting Seonghwa a quick smile and ‘hope your father feels better soon’ before following Hongjoong’s steps out the door.

On your way home, you can’t help but wonder…what on earth is cow fever? You’ve never heard of such a thing. You’re too lost in thought you almost don’t see San waving at you from afar. “Ah, hey San!” you greet him with a quick wave and a smile. “Did you have lunch yet?”

A shrug is your answer and you laugh at San’s nonchalance. “Nah, I was just about to head out for some, though. How was your lunch?”

You shake your head. “It had to be cancelled. Mayor Gil came down with the cow fever, so we decided to reschedule.”

A pout forms on San’s face. “Well, I hope he gets better. Cow fever is no joke. But hey, since you didn’t have lunch, would you like to join me?”

Although it would mean you’d have to walk back to town, you can’t say ‘no’ to the smile on San’s face. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” you grin. “Inn? Do you want to get sandwiches and eat on the dock?”

The smile on San’s face widens. “It’s almost like you’re reading my mind. Let’s eat on the dock.”

Without another word, he hooks his arm around yours and pulls you in the direction of the barn. “Ah– San, the town is the other way, you know.”

San laughs again, loud and bright. “Yeah, I know. We’ll take Emma.”

It takes a moment to register. “The cow? San, are you crazy?” you gasp, but there’s still a giggle present in your tone. “First, we have a horse. Second, I don’t even know how to ride a horse, much less a cow!”

“That doesn’t matter,” San grins impossibly wider, his dimples deep. “Emma’s sweet, she’s an easier ride than Princess. Plus, I want Princess to have some more bonding time with her foal. Come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

You groan good-naturedly but can’t keep the smile off your face as the two of you approach the well-mannered cow. “Fine,” you agree. “How do I get on?”

Instead of answering your question like a normal human being, San places his hands on your waist. For a moment, you’re lost in his firm grip, but it doesn’t last long as he lifts you and places you on Emma’s back, a shriek emitting from your mouth. “San!” you laugh, looking down to see San’s eyes crinkling as he chuckles and pats your thigh. “Warn me next time!”

“So there’ll be a next time?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” you scold lightly, turning away so he won’t see your flushing cheeks. “Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

You can hear San laugh to himself one more time before hopping up behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist. Immediately, your mind is taken back to that rainy day almost a month ago when he hugged you and your cheeks burn even more. “Hold on tight,” San hums, leaning forward till his lips are right by your ear.

And once again, he doesn’t give you time to mentally prepare before Emma runs down the path towards the town. You’re terrified, hands gripping so tightly on San’s that you’re sure your nails will leave indents. But somehow, you’re enjoying yourself taking a wild ride on a cow of all things. Maybe it helps that San’s body is pressed against yours and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You’re practically in a daze when you reach the town, San lifting you off Emma much more gently than when he put you on her. “You good?” he asks, and you snort, shaking your head fondly.

“God, I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe you made me do that. But yes, I’m good. More than good, even. That was fun.” You chuckle mostly to yourself, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “Come on, let’s eat.”

It’s your turn to grab San’s warm hand and pull him in the direction of the inn, the little bell tinkling as you step inside. Mai smiles at the two of you, waving you both over to her station. “Hello, you two. Looking for some lunch this fine morning?”

“Yep,” San leans on the counter with his elbow, ignoring the glare the head chef, Chihaya, sends him. Mai hides her smile extremely badly. “Could I get the tuna sandwich? And whatever YN’s getting.”

Your head snaps towards him. “Oh, no, no, San, don’t worry about it. I can pay for my own,” you decline as quickly as you can, but he raises an eyebrow in response.

“It’s my treat, YN. Don’t fight me on this, I’ll win. I invited you out, so it’s only right I pay.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “But–”

“No buts, okay? Don’t worry, I’m perfectly capable of paying for the both of us. Let me do this, YN. Just order, okay?” San holds up a hand, and you know he’s won.

With a sigh, you concede. “Fine. But next time, I’ll pay, and no buts.” San raises his hands in defeat. Satisfied, you turn back to Mai. “Could I get an egg sandwich?”

Mai chuckles, writing down your order in her little notebook. “It’s cute to see you two together. Poor San has been lonely for a long time.”

“We’re not dating,” you quickly correct her, face heating up in embarrassment.

“And I’m not lonely!” San interjects, pout on his face, and his cuteness in that moment makes you forget how awkward you were about Mai’s statement.

“Okay,” Mai chirps, clearly disbelieving the two of you, but before you can refute any longer, Chihaya stalks over, handing the two of you nicely wrapped sandwiches.

“Mai, stop bothering them. You two, go eat. See you later,” he shuts down the conversation, waving the two of you away.

Both San and you exchange a look before quickly leaving the inn, Mai’s sweet giggles trailing behind the two of you until the door shuts behind you. “Well then. Dock?”

You snort, nodding. “Dock.”

You skip your way through town to the dock, empty aside from the local fisherman about to head inside for his own lunch break. The wind isn’t too harsh today, something you appreciate so that the sea’s waves don’t get close to your feet. Neither you nor San feel the need to talk as you work through your lunches, the food delicious enough to keep your mouths occupied.

You finish your sandwich much earlier than San, leaning back on your arms as you sneak a peek at his side profile while he continues to eat, unaware. Something about his focused gaze on his sandwich seems to draw your gaze. As you wait, you can’t help but think back to Mai’s words, unable to keep your mind from daydreaming about Choi San.

Ever since that fateful day in the rain, the hug he had given you keeps popping up in your mind at the most inopportune times…like right now. You can already feel heat rising to your face once again and you quickly focus your eyes on the horizon to do your best to rid yourself of such thoughts.

You can’t afford to like San, not like that. Not when you have no idea what you’re going to do after this job, or even where you’ll go. This little island feels more like home than the big city did, but you don’t know where your life could fit in here. Not when it feels like everyone already has their place in the town.

“What are you thinking about?” You blink yourself back to reality, where San has finished his sandwich and is looking at you with such a fond look in his eyes. “You look lost in your head.”

You shrug, bringing your legs up to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. “I don’t know…” you murmur, a melancholy smile playing on your lips. “Just the future, I guess. What I’ll do later.”

San hums, his hand coming to rest close to your own, and you push back thoughts of grasping his worn, warm palm. “I get it. Before I started working for Mr Takeru, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do either. I bounced from ranch to ranch, even started over at Marimba Farm for a time until Mr Takeru offered me a job.”

“Is that where you met Yunho?”

At your question, San chuckles. “Yeah. He hired me at Marimba when it was first starting out, then recommended me to Mr Takeru after he was able to manage it with the help of Wooyoung. Yunho is one of my oldest friends here.”

“It must be nice to have that close of a friend,” you state, more to yourself than anything, but San hears you anyway, his brows furrowing with light concern. “Say…who’s Hongjoong? I met him briefly at Seonghwa’s before I had to go home. I’ve never seen him around before.”

San hums, tilting his head so he can look into your eyes more clearly. You fight to keep the blush of your cheeks. “Hongjoong runs the clinic, and does fortune telling on the side. He’s descended from a long line of wizards, and his paternal family has run the clinic for a very long time. Why?”

You shrug. “I heard something about him getting medicine for Mayor Gil. Thought it might be interesting to talk to him about the island’s medical practices. Since I’m a nurse and all.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little curious too. He dresses nothing like the other islanders.”

San chuckles alongside you. “His robes are the traditional wear for the wizards of this island. He does quite enjoy talking about the history behind them, so you should ask him about it some time. Any other trivia I can answer for you?”

His tone is light, teasing, and you snort and shove at his shoulder. “Shut up, can’t a girl be curious? I get it, you don’t like me.”

“You and I both know that’s the furthest thing from true.” San shakes his head, and you freeze, aware of what he’s implying.

“San–” You’re unsure of what to say. “I’m–”

“You don’t have to say anything,” San laughs, leaning in to tap his forehead against yours. “Not right now, at least. I’ll give you time to think about it. Now come on, let’s get back to the farm.”

Before you can blink, he’s already on his feet and holding out a hand to help you stand. After a moment's hesitation, you reach out as well, placing your hand in his. As he pulls you up, he leans forward to press his lips against the side of your head and you duck your head, heat rushing to your face.

The walk home is silent, but not uncomfortably so. Instead of riding Emma back, San lets her amble along the path on her own. You walk side by side, fingertips not quite brushing, stealing glances at each other and soft smiles. Maybe it's because he finally put words to what the two of you have, but you can’t help but wonder exactly why both of you are suddenly so open with how much you care for each other.

As he walks you to the front door of the farmhouse, he clears his throat, obviously wanting to say something. You turn to him expectantly, taking note of the nervousness in his eyes. “YN…” he mumbles, a far cry from the confident man he was on the dock. “No matter how you end up feeling, please don’t leave the island because of it. Everyone here likes you, even though you don’t really know them well. And Mr Takeru is terribly fond of you. Don’t let me influence your life too much, okay?”

You sigh, body visibly relaxing. “Of course not, San. I’ve grown to love it here. I don’t think even you can keep me away.”

San chuckles at your feeble attempt at a joke, out of pity, you think. “Okay, okay. Have a good day, YN.”

You close the door behind you, smiling to yourself subconsciously. “Miss YN, is that you?” Mr Takeru calls out, and you shake your head, willing your brain to clear up before quickly making your way to your employer.

“I’m here, Mr Takeru!”

You awkwardly stand at the bar, waiting for Wooyoung to finish up with a customer. The bar is the last place you would usually be, but you’re at a loss. San’s words have been replaying in your head since that fateful day on the dock, and you haven't spoken to him since. Not that he’s bothered by it. True to his word, San had been giving you space, only exchanging soft, sweet, ‘good morning’s and gentle smiles.

As each day passed, you knew what your answer would be, but then a letter arrived today from your agency back home. A reminder your contract was almost up. You knew you had to make a decision, fast.

“All right, what’s going on in your head, missy?” Wooyoung’s voice breaks you out of your swirling thoughts. “You look like you’re about to be sick, and I don’t want to have to take you to the doctor’s.”

You open your mouth, close it again, and then reopen. “Wooyoung, do you know if the clinic has any job openings?”

Wooyoung furrows his brow, frowning. “Well, you’ve picked the worst person to ask this question to. I’ve never gone to the clinic before, and Hongjoong never comes in here. But they might. Hongjoong’s grandfather recently retired, so as Mr Van takes his role, there might be a job opening soon. I think Mao was thinking about volunteering there, though. You’d have to talk to Hongjoong about it. Why?”

You hesitate, eyes moving from side to side. No one is close enough to hear you over the music. “Did San talk to you at all in the past week?”

Understanding dawns in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Ah. He told us what happened, but let me hear what you think of it. All our regulars are here already so I won't have to make any more drinks for a while.”

A sigh makes its way out of your throat. “My contract with Mr Takeru is ending soon. The easy answer is to renew, but what about after that? I don’t know where I could work, other than the hospital, and if Mao wants to work there, I don’t want to take that opportunity away from him.”

Wooyoung laughs. “I said he would volunteer, not work. He’s the fisherman’s son, the sea is in his blood. But even if you don’t work at the clinic, San would probably be happy to support you until you find something.”

You shake your head tiredly. “But I don’t want him to. He already works so hard, and I don’t want to make him feel obligated to help me, not when I’m capable of supporting myself and it’s just me overthinking.”

There’s a pause, and then Wooyoung dissolves into laughter. “YN, he would be helping you because he wants to. Hell, any of us would be willing to help you. Yunho could use someone to help him on his own farm, I’m sure Seonghwa would like to have a secretary, hell, I could use you as a server. You’re worrying too much about it. Things will work out if you want them to.”

You wince. “I know, I know. I just worry, you know.”

“Well, don’t,” Wooyoung teases. “Just talk to San. He’ll understand.”

“As always, your advice is impeccable,” you smile. “Thanks, Wooyoung, really.”

“It’s what I do,” Wooyoung winks, sliding a glass over. “Have a drink before you go, okay? I’m not getting paid to gossip, you know.”

You squint at him. “Don’t you own this bar?” All Wooyoung does is smile knowingly and nod towards the cup of…something. You take a tentative sip, and then another, and then it hits. The sweet but tangy flavour with a hint of bitterness from the alcohol. “Oh, this is good! What is it?”

“Raspberry cocktail,” he answers, way too proud of his creation. “I perfected the recipe today, as well as a few others. You should try those ones too.”

You laugh, downing the rest of your drink. “Sure, sure, go ahead. I’m almost never here anyway.”

Wooyoung practically vibrates in excitement, moving around the kitchen in a dash to prepare your next drink. You’re on your third drink and too busy laughing at Wooyoung’s antics to notice the presence behind you. When Wooyoung slides you your next drink, you ask, “Which one is this?”

“This one is your last drink,” a firm voice speaks up and you snap your head around, startled, to come face to face with San. “You still have work tomorrow, YN, you can't get too drunk.”

“Hey, Sanah,” you beam up at him, unbothered by his close proximity. You blame it on the alcohol. His eyes soften as he looks down at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “I was just talking about you!”

“Oh, were you?” San leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “All good, I hope. Come on, finish your drink and let’s get you home.”

Without much further prompting, you down the rest of your drink and wave at Wooyoung, who is watching the two of you with an amused expression plastered on his face. “Bye, now,” he sing-songs, “get home safe.”

San rolls his eyes good naturedly, nodding at Wooyoung and sliding some money over to pay for your few drinks. “Have a good night, Youngah.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, helping you stand and pulling you out of the inn. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

You hum, turning your head to press your face into his shoulder. “I dunno,” you mumble into him, breathing in the smell of his soap. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I end up out of a job. You’re too perfect, I can’t drag you down.” You don’t mean to say all this, but the alcohol is still coursing through your system and the courage still sits in your stomach.

San intakes a sharp breath. “What do you mean by that?”

You shrug. “You have a job, a life here. I’m here temporarily. When my contract ends next month, what am I supposed to do? I don’t want to go back to the city and leave you here, but I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do here.”

San sighs, letting his head sit atop yours, his cheek pressed against your hair. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I wouldn’t mind if you went back to the city if you visited. I wouldn’t mind if you stayed with me until you get back on your feet if you decide to end your contract. Hell, I’m sure Mr Takeru would be happy to employ you on his own dime, or someone else in town would take you on. But I’m glad you came to me, okay? I want to help you.”

You can feel your eyes stinging, and you curse yourself for drinking so much that it makes you too emotional for your liking. “Okay,” you concede with a soft voice. “Thank you, San.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Of course, YN,” he smiles, and although you can’t see it, you hear it in his voice. “Now let’s talk later, okay? You need to go to bed.”

“Later sounds good,” you sigh, letting your body weight lean even more against San’s broad shoulders. “See you later.”

“Not right now,” San chuckles. “We’re almost home, come on. As much as it’s safe on the island, it’s chilly tonight, and I think you’d probably prefer sleeping in a bed.”

“Hmm, bed,” you repeat, yawning. “I like the idea.”

“I’m sure you do.”

The rest of the night is mostly calm, save for San convincing you to go to the bathroom to change, and not undressing in front of him. As he helps you brush your hair as you sit on your bed, you can’t help but to reach up and put your hands on his waist.

“You know, I really like you,” you mumble. The alcohol has almost faded, but the tiredness has hit and you’re just as loopy as if you were still drunk. “I hope you know that.”

San chuckles, his hands slowing to a stop in your hair. “I do, YN. I do.” He leans down, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns to leave, but not until you grab his wrist. “Wait! What about here?” you pout, pointing to your lips, and San arches an eyebrow, a smile toying at the corners of his lips and a laugh threatening to escape.

“Maybe tomorrow, if you ask me, okay? Good night, YN.” And with that, he leaves you to sleep, a smile plastered onto your face as you dream of his touch.

When you reawaken, you feel fully rested, yawning as you slip out of bed quickly and easily. A quick glance at your clock tells you it’s almost noon and you curse yourself for drinking so heavily. You’re never letting Wooyoung talk you into such a thing again.

As you make your way out of your room, you find Mr Takeru sitting on the couch. “Miss YN, come sit with me, okay? I want to talk to you.”

You pause, heart freezing. “Ah– sure, Mr Takeru. Nothing bad, I hope.”

The older man chuckles, waving his hand. “Of course not. This is something both Wooyoung and San have come to me about.”

You blink. “Ah.” You’re going to kill Wooyoung, and think about killing San (You’re too attached to him to follow though).

Mr Takeru laughs again. “I said it wasn’t bad, child, don’t look like you’re about to faint, please. San had expressed his affection for you to me, and Wooyoung has talked about how, in his words, ‘both of them are dumb as rocks and won’t date yet’. I’m quite aware that your contract with me is ending soon.” He pauses to take in a breath. “I would like to offer you a job with me off contract. That means you won’t be with your agency anymore.”

You blink at him. “I…I’m sorry, it’s a lovely offer, and I’m quite inclined to take it, but can I ask why? I mean, it would be cheaper for you to hire from the agency, and I’m sure I could figure something else out.”

“Miss YN, I’m sure you’re well aware I am not in much need of money. San runs the farm beautifully, and even though he is paid generously, the earnings far exceed what I need. And, as I have talked to Mayor Gil, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, the clinic is happy to contract you so that in the case that I no longer require your services, you may work with them.”

You blink at him, your lower lip quivering. It takes you a moment to compose yourself, and Mr Takeru waits patiently. “The offer is so generous, and I would be a fool to decline it. I really do appreciate it, Mr Takeru.”

Your boss smiles. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Think of it as a favour to San as well. He’s worked for me for so long, he’s like one of my own grandchildren.” He pauses, letting out a yawn. “Now, go find him and tell him the good news, okay? I’d like to take a long nap.”

With a moment to compose yourself, you stand from the couch. “Thank you again, Mr Takeru,” you repeat sincerely. “I’ll prep lunch and put it in the fridge for when you wake up, okay?”

He waves you away, already getting ready to lay down on the couch. “Don’t worry about it. Mayor Gil is coming around to have lunch with me, and he’ll bring me something from the inn.” With another yawn, you know your conversation is over, and you spin on your heel and race out of the house, only one thing on your mind.

“San, are you in here?” you call out as you reach the ajar barn doors. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll be right down, just filling up the dispenser.” You can hear San’s voice from the loft and you look up, squinting through the sunrays filtering through the holes in the roof. The carpenters have been working on fixing that before the next rain.

Your gaze is drawn away by San climbing down the ladder, an extra bale of hay perched on his shoulders. As he turns around and you catch a glimpse of his face, your breath catches in your throat.

There wasn't ever a time where you thought sweat and grime on a person could be attractive…at least until right at this very moment. Sweat is glistening on his face, dripping off his cheekbones and chin, and all you can think about is swiping your tongue over his lips to taste it. The sight of it only serves to remind you of your drunken request to San, and his one condition that you ask him about it the next day.

“YN? Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Can I get my kiss now?”

That was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it’s too late to rectify it, so you’re left looking up at a dumbfounded San. The silence goes on for just a tad too long and you’re too embarrassed to face him now, so you turn on your heel and start to exit the barn, hopefully to drown your sorrows and yourself in the hot spring.

Before you can even step foot onto the threshold, however, San grabs your arm and gently tugs you into his warm chest. “Now wait just a moment,” he hums, chest vibrating against your back. His smell fills your mind and you tilt your gaze up to see him looking right back at you with such warmth in his eyes. “I didn’t give you your kiss yet.”

“Oh–” is all you manage to squeak out before San’s lips are on yours and you immediately melt into the kiss. His arm pulls you even closer against his body, his lips soft and inviting. “San–”

He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, his mouth capturing every sound escaping past your lips. You can feel every breath against your lips, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips. Slowly, you part your lips for him and he wastes no time to map out your mouth, taking the air out of your lungs at how desperately he kisses.

As you fall deeper into his embrace, your arms come to loop around his waist, resting by his hips as your hands grip onto his shirt. His own hands roam up and down your sides, gripping at your waist and keeping you pulled against him. One of them finds its way to your face, cupping it with a gentleness that rivals the roughness of his mouth.

You could stay here like this for hours, but your lungs disagree, and after they scream at you for some air, you finally pull away, gasping softly as you lean your forehead against San’s. “San,” you call his name again, although this time your words aren’t interrupted by his lips but your lack of air. You take in one more breath, San waiting patiently as he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky yourself. “San, I like you. And I’m sure I’m just stating the obvious, but again, I do. I want to stay here with you, and just this morning Mr Takeru has offered me a personal contract with him. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

San laughs, his hand on your waist moving up to stroke your cheek. “I know, YN. I asked Mr Takeru to make you the offer. Or, to be more precise, I implied that he should make you the offer, and I did that because Wooyoung implied to me to do that.” He tilts his head to press a short and sweet kiss to your lips again, chuckling to himself at how you follow his lips when he pulls back.

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes good-naturedly, nodding as you lean up on your tiptoes to try and steal another kiss. “Nothing will ever be kept secret with his big mouth. Can we go back to kissing now? It’s easier.”

You can practically see the eagerness shine to San’s eyes. Instead of an answer, he tilts his head down to meet your waiting lips. This time, though, your makeout session is sadly cut short.

“So you two are finally together?”

You’re not too embarrassed to admit you shrieked, jumping out of your skin and burying your face in San’s chest. You can hear both San and Seonghwa chuckle, San’s arm tightening around your body. “Thanks to you, Seonghwa,” San hums. “We both really appreciate your role in this.”

“It’s no problem whatsoever. And as surly as Hongjoong can be, he’s happy to have someone else on board. But I’ll let you two get back to…talking. I was just passing through to have lunch with the jeweller. Have a good day, you two.” With a wave that you see out of the corner of your eye, Seonghwa leaves.

“I’m never going back to the town hall again,” you mumble against San’s shirt. “I can’t face Seonghwa again.”

San rubs your back with a comforting hand, although you can feel his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I’m sure he understands, YN. Plus, look on the bright side. At least he didn’t walk in on a more intimate moment.”

Your head snaps up, heat blooming in your cheeks as you slap his shoulder. “San! We’re in the barn!”

A smirk is the only warning you get before San wraps both his arms around you and hoists you into the air, ignoring your squeal. “My house is just across the creek, you know. We don’t have to be in the barn.” You swear he can see how flustered you are just by your expression, and it only seems to egg him on. His one hand moves down to hold you up by your thighs, and you don’t think your face could get any hotter. “Shall we celebrate?”

“San–” you start to decline, but then you pause, casting a glance over your shoulder. Seeonghwa is long gone, and you’re sure Mr Takeru and the Mayor will be talking for a good few hours. “...All right. But put me down!”

Laughing, San happily sets you on your feet, leaning in to press his lips against yours again. “I really am glad you decided to stay, YN. Thank you for choosing me.”

“And if given the chance, I would choose you over and over San.” You smile up at him, reaching up to cup his face and pull him in for yet another kiss. Although the future seems uncertain, you’ll be happy to navigate it with him by your side.

#2ndpirateezyear #pirateeznet #kvanity #wkcnet #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez x reader #san fanfiction #san fanfic #san fluff #san angst #san fic #san x reader #san au

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soulwrit3s · 9 months

Text

You make me so…

producer! riri x reader

a/n: I’m sorry if there r a lot of typos, I didn’t have to re-edit this. I was gonna make this a series but I just decided to turn it into a oneshot ! I feel like it’s a bit all over the place but yknow what? It’s fine 💀

@pvnks0ul @fentibeauty @onyxstones-world @kissvamps @shurislover

Riri 🎶

- meet me at the studio in 30, im tryna wrap this album up, I got places to be.

You read the text from your phone and feel an arm secure around your barely conscious frame. You feel a pair of lips against the nose of your neck that you used to make you shiver in the best way possible but has begun to bore you.

“Where you going?” Your girlfriend, Tori, grumbles as you begin to shift away from her. You turn around and gently kiss her forehead.

“I got to go to the studio.” You tell her as you sit up on the foot of the bed. You pull a shirt from the floor over your naked body. She wasn’t all that good in bed and she didn’t put you to sleep anyway so you don’t see a point in staying. Your girlfriend sits up and rubs at her bleary eyes.

“Why does she always need you?” She questions with irritation seeping through her words. You sigh again, this isn’t the first time she’s commented on Riri texting you late at night. You know it’s not flirtatious and they’ve interacted enough for your girl to hate your producer.

You can’t blame her. Riri’s naturally flirtatious, not purposefully. But her kindness can be taken a certain way. She’s caring, loving and so damn carefree it blows your mind. She calls everyone pet names and your girlfriend wasn’t too happy about it when she heard ‘baby,’ slip out of her mouth. Riri’s respectful and when she saw the slow twitch in your girl’s eyes so she had laid off the pet names for a while. Now she doesn’t care so much.

When you don’t feel like recording, she lets you take breaks. She doesn’t push your limits too quickly. She makes the best beats she can find, Hell, she gets you into after parties. She’s so damn considerate and so sweet.

“It’s work, let it go. A’ight?” You breathe out, walking towards the mirror and fluffing your flattened Afro. You feel arms wrap around your clad waist and want to pry her off of you.

It’s no longer cute, it’s borderline possessive and it’s taking everything in you not to say something crazy.

“As long as you know.” She shrugs, kissing your shoulder before heading out of the room, towards the kitchen you’re sure. You freshen up, wearing a skirt and boots. You never leave without a bunch of bracelets on your arm and golden hoops.

On your way out, you hear your girlfriend’s voice over her mic as she clicks away at her ps5 that you remember buying after your first check from a concert.

“I’m heading out.” You murmur.

“Yeah- Yeah, see you, babe.” She says, more excited at the video game on the flatscreen T.V than you. She doesn’t even spare a glance as you head out of your apartment. You don’t understand how someone can be so considerate and careless as the same time.

You do well for yourself, you live on a rather expensive side of Chicago now. And you’ve managed to take your girlfriend with her, she doesn’t work. Not now. She says she’ll get there at some point but even you aren’t sure when.

You don’t bother driving to Riri’s penthouse. It’s a nice night out, not too cold or too hot. It’s a simple light breeze and you find yourself finding more inspiration anyway. You receive a couple looks, a couple fans bump into you, begging for signatures and snapping photos of you. You’re new to this, the fame and paparazzi. It’s flattering and nowhere near Invasive just yet.

You finally reach Riri’s penthouse after a fifteen minute walk. You can hear the strumming of guitar chords and once you reach to knock a voice sounds.

“Doors already open.” Riri’s voice mentions. You push the door open to find her sitting in her leather couch. Her apartment is full of warm light, it’s the perfect temperature with all kinds of warm toned colors splattered around it.

“Wassup, Y/N. I like your fit.” Riri smiles. She noticed at least. She has a one-sided smile plastered on her face and a part of you can’t tell if you find it cute because it’s her or just a preference you have. Her braids are gathered in a bun on top of her head with spiraling curls framing her face.

“Preciate it.” You reply. She’s man spreading, dressed in loose sweats and sports bra , like she is nearly 90 % of the time. The public notices too and she’s had numerous comparisons to Adam Sandler. She’s more stylish but she has I-Don‘t-Give-A-Fuck, attitude. You noticed the sparkle in her tongue from the piercing lodged there as she begins to speak.

“I just wanted to go over the album, before everything’s set. Is that alright?” She questions as she stands up. She doesn’t walk towards her studio room, instead she walks towards the fridge across the island counter.

“You want sumn to drink?” She offers.

You already know it’s gonna be a long session.

…

“That was good, baby.” Riri encourages through the other side of the glass. You feel your face heat up at her compliment. It’s not the first time she’s ever praised you but you have the same reaction every time. You look up to find her with a headset on and relaxed look.

“Do that again, I need you to drag out the vowels a lil longer, f’me. If you nail that then this album is platinum.” She requests while sitting back and placing her hands behind her head. You hear the beat again. It’s slow, sensual and you find yourself rushing a lot.

That’s what this album is supposed to be. Slow. Sensual. It’s what your going for anyway. It’s supposed to be about love, lust and passion. Your supposed to be thinking about your girl. The woman in your home.

But instead you think of her. The woman in front of you, your producer.

You should be be thinking about your girlfriends smile, the soft cologne she wears, her raunchy laugh. But instead you think of Riri, her perfect hair, the vanilla perfume that she sprays on her neck, the softest chuckle she always lets out and that toothy grin. She has the cutest smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, sweetheart, you missed the entire thing, you okay?” Riri asks. You snap your eyes up only to find her looking at you. Have her eyes always been this brown?

“I’m okay.”

“Fuckin’ liar, step out the booth, we gon talk this out, ma.” She replies. You want to complain but you do what she tells you anyway. Because truth is, she could tell you anything and you’d do it. And you hate that.

You take a seat next to a rolling chair next to her and focus on the glass covered album covers behind her.

“What’s botherin’ you?” She investigates. You focus on her the different golden rings on her fingers, the way she twists them around her middle and pointer finger.

“Nothing, I just um- I can’t focus.” You admit.

“Yeah? And why is that?” She digs deeper, sitting up so her elbow rests on her knees. Have her arms been so toned? You watch the Cuban link around her move back and forth.

“Is it sumn with yo girl?” She guesses. She takes your silence as a yes. She’s always seemed neutral when it comes to your girlfriend. She doesn’t mention it.

“Y/N, do you love her?” Riri asks.

“I don’t know.” You reply and Riri doesn’t know the reason why your questioning it is because of her. She smiles at you, and you’re sure she’s gonna drop some wisdom.

“Go home…go see her, we have a long day tomorrow, we got an after party. I want you to let loose and have fun.” She encourages as her hand gravitates towards the curve of your left shoulder.

“But the album-“

“I’ll put it together, you’ve given me everything I need.” She insists as she ushers you out. You want to reach out for hug but for some reason that seems to intimate.

“I’ll see you.” She promises and just like that you’re out in the Chicago air again.

Her words stick in your mind.

“you’ve given me everything I need.”

…

The next morning is busy. You wake yourself up and catch the sunrise but don’t have time to watch it. You run through your skincare routine, in the hopes of not having any breakouts.

You plan out your outfit for tonight, you want something that presents you on the outside. So you settle for a dark black body con dress, some black boots to match and a leather jacket. You’ll pair it with some shades and silver jewelry.

This is technically your first after-party and although it’s not a big deal to many artists, it’s a big deal to you. You’re going to meet so many other artists like you, some that you’ve been admiring for years.

While your in your robe, rubbing cream into your face, arms wrap around your waist like they do nearly every morning.

You wonder what Riri’s morning routine is like. Knowing her, she probably wakes up later than she should and most likely stays in bed. It’s wrong for think of someone else while your have a good girlfriend standing right behind you.

Tori’s stable. Predictable. She’s comfortable. She doesn’t try to make you happy anymore, she doesn’t know what you favor. Hell, she barely listens to your music. But you too, have grown far too comfortable. You know what she likes. You’ve known her since you were both in highschool. It’s too late to back out now.

You lean back in her arms and the smell of her cologne has become unfamiliar, your body and system have become accustomed to the scent of sweet vanilla and warm lavender.

“Want some coffee?” She asks and all you can do is smile and nod. You want Riri, but the guilt is too much. The guilt of leaving Tori would squeeze the life out of you.

She has no one but you. Hell, she moved from New York to Chicago to chase your dreams with you. You can’t have her and Riri at the same time. She hands you your coffee, it’s black and there’s nowhere near enough cream but you smile as you drink. She’s good to you.

Riri is no longer an option, she never should’ve been.

…

The party is at a high-end club. Filled with artists, big and small. None that you can see because of the lowly dimmed red lights throughout.

Riri 🎶

-wya? I got ppl for you to meet.

You try to text back but you feel a hand squeeze your own and look back to see Tori smiling at you. She isn’t dressed to coordinate your outfit but she still looks good, only in a simple white Tee and cargo pants.

“You look good, babe.” She smiles, kissing your shoulder excitedly. Her hand squeeze yours again. You notice that she has no rings on it. You shake your head out of it and feel her hand loosen up as her body tenses behind you. You aren’t sure why until you lift your head up. You find Riri in front of you, she’s in the middle of conversation and throwing her head back as she laughs.

She looks gorgeous. Beautiful. She’s in an oversized suit with nothing but supple skin underneath and a plunged v-neck. She holds a clear glass of what you think is wine and her face beat with a soft glam which you see due to her braids being pulled in a high pony tail. She has her rings on as usual and her chain. That never changed.

Tori’s hand trails down to rest on your waist as Riri approaches. You do your best not to stare at the space between her breasts.

“Nice to see you two.” She smiles, gold decorating her bottom row of teeth. You hear Tori fake a laugh as you smile.

“Y/N, I got a couple people for you to meet, just let me know when you ready.” She points out with her bottom lip tucked into her mouth. You spin on your heel to look at displeased Tori.

“Go, I’ll meet you later, mhm?” You suggests. She mumbles something under her breath and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s messy and your sure your lip liner is on her own lips. You latch away from her and find a waiting Riri.

“Here you go,” She says as she hands you a glass of wine. The even doesn’t call for it but she doesn’t need you borderline drunk especially if it’s for business.

Throughout the night, she introduced you to everyone she can think of. All of her friends, all of the artists she works with, some big and some small. You don’t notice how many drinks you begin to grab and she eventually has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you on your feet. You start to lean into her touch for support, grabbing at shockingly toned shoulders and veiny hands.

“I think you’re done with the drinks, baby.” She whispers lowly as she leans into you. She had caught you trying to grab another but stopped you before you had the chance.

“I don’t need you ruining y’image.” She says sternly. The carefree version of her that you know is long-gone. Her face is stern as she guides you to a more empty part of the club. She puts you up against a wall, forcing her hands not to linger as she reaches into the pocket of your leather jacket.

Your mind is hazy, cloudy is a better word for it. You’re beginning to see two of her.

“Y/N, put the pin in.” She orders as she placed the phone in your face. You want to say something to her, tell her that she looks so fucking good. And that you’ve noticed the tattooed lined down her sternum.

“I’m calling Tori for you.” She sighs.

“Don’t, please. Not now.” You murmur as she puts the phone to her ear. You grab the lapels of her jacket and pull her close, so close that you can tell that she’s swapped her vanilla perfume for something more expensive.

“I want you.” You clarify through a croaky voice. Her eyes widen to the size of plates as you lean in, pressing her body to your own. She leans in close, so fucking close you can taste it.

“I’m not gonna be your second choice, Y/N. I refuse to be an option, okay?” She coldly clarifies. It feels like a damn slap to the face.

The distance between the two or you causes her to drop your phone which she quickly picks up anyway.

“Stop, Y/N. I’m callin’.” She insists. She looks…uneasy. She takes a step back, breathing in deeply as she looks at you with the phone to her ear.

“Yeah, man, she tipsy. We on the bottom floor, by the entrance.” She hangs up and slips your phone back into your pocket.

“We won’t mention this, you’re just drunk, you don’t want this, baby. You don’t want me, aight?” She says, like she’s trying to convince you but more-so herself. She smiles, hoping that it spreads onto your face but it doesn’t. She brings your hand to her lips and for the first time her lips touch your skin. You’ll never forget it. The coldness of her rings, the softness of her fingertips and the callouses on her palm.

“Go home, ma. I’ll see you.” She says with a sad smile that’s etched itself into your mind. She blends in with the lights the further she walks away from you and all you want to do is call for her but you hear Tori’s voice sound form behind you.

“Let me take you home.” She suggests, interlocking her bare fingers with the one that Riri just kissed. Your hand feels gross now, and you can feel the sweat that’s accumulated on your palm.

She kisses your temple but no matter where she kisses you. It won’t compare to the softest one you’ve ever received.

You agree to let her take you home. That’s the good choice. Tori’s the good choice. But if she is then why doesn’t it feel so fucking wrong?

…

You wake up the next morning with a slight headache but that’s not the worse part. The worse part is that you remember every single part you of last night. You remember Riri, her outfit, her voice, her kiss.

“You got real tipsy.” Tori murmurs as she rubs your back. You’re leaned over the bathroom sink with watery eyes and an angry stomach.

“I bet.” You murmur. You’ve always been a lightweight so even you don’t understand why you decided to get wine drunk last night.

“Yeah and uh- I’ll give you some space.” Tori says, leaving you with your thoughts.

You luckily, never end up puking your guts out but the nausea never leaves. Not becomes of the alcohol but because of the genuine anxiety from last night. You try to get some sleep but you never do.

…

Two days after the party you find Riri in her studio. She hasn’t spoken a word about the club. It’s like it’s been wiped from her brain. She keeps calling you pet names and has the softest smile on your face you swear you lose synapses by the second.

But you can’t play along. You’re not sure you want to. You’re seated right next to her with your album playing. The open room feels so stuffy.

And today there are no songs to finish up, or to record. All you two have to do is go over your album. Every song there is. And her favorite song begins to play. It’s your least favorite, more vulnerable than you’d like, it’s not your best work. You named it Seen, again, not your best work, not the most thought out.

“We should scrap that.” You murmur. It’s too intimate, and you’re beginning to hate it. Especially since Riri’s the one hearing it.

“Nah, let it play.” She sighs. All she would really need is a blunt to relax her. You stare at her, admiring her side profile while she closes her eyes. You know it’s about her. The song is about her. All of the nights she spent thinking of lyrics and love, were spent thinking around Riri. You watch her visibly relax, her abs tensing on every inhale and chest rising on every exhale.

“Riri-“

Her eyes meet yours before you can finish your sentence.

“I know…I was hoping you had forgotten, Y/N.” She says, nearly whispering into the air. You’re so tired of having to settle. Riri doesn’t let you, she doesn’t let you settle for bad brand deals, bad concerts, bad programs. You don’t think about any what if’s, what cons there are in your career because as of now she’s done everything in her power so you don’t have to.

"You've given me a lot, Y/N. But I grew up watching my parents and the love they got...There's no one else for them, there's no other choice. They're meant to be...I want nothing less. I don't want to be the other woman." She murmurs, her eyes low as she stares ahead. You remain silent because there's nothing you can think of saying. "Ion know how you feel bout Tori, I know you want me...But it's not difficult to want someone, You don't want me more than you want Tori," But you do. "I don't like this, being confused. You want me but you still with her..." She exhales before continues. " I can't accept that and neither should you." Your song has stopped playing for a long time. She still doesn't turn her head to look at you. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and both of you know who's calling. Riri knows you'll pick up. She knows now that you'll always pick Tori and seeing it will only solidify her thoughts. Tori's good, She's stable. She's everything you need. She should be enough. If that's the case why do you constantly need to remind yourself. You put the phone to your ear and watch Riri shift a little in her chair. Within two minutes, you're walking towards her apartment door. You don't say anything but before you can walk too far, she speaks. "Get home safe." ...

Within days, your album charts in the top 10 on Spotify and Apple music. Your phone blows with congratulation messages from people you love, people dear to you, people you haven't spoken to in years and exes that you have forgotten to block. While you're in the car with Tori, your least favorite song begins to play on the Radio. Today has been so confusing. It's been the worst day and best day of your life. There's nothing scarier than being vulnerable especially to millions of people worldwide. "This song is real cute, Who's it about?" Tori grins, confident that the song is all about her. Then your heart sinks and you realize that out of the hundreds of messages, you really only wanted to see one. Your eyes begin to burn with tears and your phone pings. Speak of the devil.

Riri 🎶

- congrats, y/n. you deserve it :)

You put your phone down and in your pocket, forcing a smile on your face.

“You.” You murmur and it excites the woman next to you but she doesn’t know who lingers in your mind. She never will.

what y'all think?

#riri williams #riri williams x reader

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fatuismooches · 3 months

Note

Dw hahahaha I'm still alive just dying over ( why did I chose to study a PHD 😭 ) But im on a break from school so except so a lot more brainrot from me lmao, also sorry if this is jumbly kinda just put my words out there hahaha

I know we always talk about fragile reader during the illness but what about after? Fragile reader was plauged with this illness for hundreds of years so they deffinently adapted. Like typically when walking then would shuffle their feet a lot cause it took less energy so sometime they shuffle their feet and don't even realize. They didnt have the ability to do tasks such a pouring liquids into cups so whenever they're about to pour themselves a glass of water then to do collect themselves because what if their illness comes back? What if there dreaming and they'll suddenly drop everything. All of Zandik's work is reverted. So often times segments will just find reader staring intensely at a simple task. And of course they'll go comfort reader. Whilst they wish they could do it they know how much reader wants their autonomy back after such a restrictive few centuries.

But let not ignore the segments and Prime cause they've picked up a few habits also. They've gotten used to treating reader as fragile as glass so whenever they fall or trip post illness they freak out. It would require some comfort from reader to bring them back to earth and remember that reader is no longer ill. But you KNOW that they're pulling out every healing treatment they've got. They're all evil and sadistic doctors but for you they'll be good. <4

But regarding Zandik himself... Well he was so excited to finally have cured his lover that he completely forgot about the effects you'd suffer after. So when a few segments report of you not being completely free of your curse he's immediately trying to figure out how he can help you. He decides that the best thing to do is to be there for you. It typically is unusual to see the Doctor away from his work but now it's the norm for Il Doctors to be with his lover.

- Jellofish Anon

After being sick for so long, one would think you'd be ecstatic to finally be cured, to be free of the illness that plagued your body and life so much. And well, they were right, but the happiness still came with its anxieties. Change was never an easy thing, even when it was the good type. After dealing with this for so many years, you were bound to still be nervous about doing certain things. To not have the confidence in yourself to carry out the task. You worry that you'll mess up or fail and waste your time trying to do so and just end up making more of a problem for yourself and others. Even though you know that's illogical now, it's hard to get out of a mindset you've been stuck with for so long. Of course, your inner conflict doesn't go unnoticed by your lovers, and each segment would provide their own kind of comfort based on who they are, whether gruffly or soothingly, to give you the courage to take back your life.

You can't exactly blame Dottore and the segments for being overbearing, after all, they've witnessed your weak state for numerous centuries, and they've seen you hit your lowest many times too. They can't help but worry about their darling too. It's endearing at first but you have to hold them and help them realize that was the past you, the new you is someone different thanks to them. You can be strong and safe and independent without them now, even if it sort of makes them crazy knowing the situations you put yourself in now. Still, they observe you very much even when you least expect it.

Of course, the cure is not without its drawbacks - you still have to deal with the lingering effects of your illness sometimes. Which definitely aren't as bad as before, but they still serve to remind you of your old life. But you know that regardless of what the future may bring, you'll always have Dottore by your side to ease whatever pains you have.

(Dottore post-illness would be such a cutie. It's such a rewarding feeling, to see the one he loves no longer burdened and free to pursue what they want just like he does. He would sit and listen to all the stories you have for him each day, all the exciting things you can do now, the days of pain in the past. Of course, the segments would be extremely excited to finally have a worthy assistant - you - but there's only one of you after all. Unfortunately, they have to share, and bear the painful curse of having you to themselves once nearly every two weeks.)

(I've been planning to make this a full fic for like a year...)

#smooches talks #jellofish anon #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #ate!!! i love this sm...#GOOD LUCK ON UR PHD JELLOFISH ANON!! U ARE SO STRONG AND SMART FOR THAT!!#i respect u thoroughly for that #i already die inside from getting a bachelors.

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firemenenthusiast · 3 months

Note

the tag is so cute but lmk if this works cs the post is still up 💔

https://x.com/SexualLoverz/status/1778850070810542313

basicalky tho shes riding his face while hes cuffed n all, i can go into more detail if it doesnt work js lmk x

shout out to stacie for the request ! (and for waiting for a damn long time for me to write, im sorry 😭)

—“influence”

sub!kai x reader

summary: based on the link above (account got suspended btw), kai is a dumbass who is easily influenced by zac who’s NOT a good person 🤯

warnings: 18+, smut, p link, sub!kai, no actual penetration, face sitting, face riding, cunnilingus, name calling (bitch & slut) 😢, cumming in pants, restraints (m! receiving)

a/n: guess who’s back LMAOOO guys uni is no joke im getting my ass beat

hate’s maybe too strong of a word to describe your dislike towards zac but everything he does pisses you off. it’s like theres physically a bad bone in his body navigating him in making stupid and evil decisions. like telling kai to stop others from taking the blue, resulting in chaos on the ship since richard’s no longer here to keep things in line. he was also the one who thought it was a good idea to have a party, celebrating god knows what, eating and wasting every resources you guys had on the ship.

he was also the reason the ship’s data room got destroyed and everyone had to clean up after him. the ship’s up and running again now, thanks to christopher. but the reason you hate zac is because he’s such a bad influence to kai. you couldn’t blame kai for the things he’d done, he wouldn’t have done them if it wasn’t because zac told him to.

maybe he just felt like that was his calling, like he had a purpose on that ship, leading him to do everything zac told him to eventho they’re stupid. in reality he’s more than that, he’s actually really smart, and good with electricals. he’s also really nice to you, it’s just that he tends to do the stupid things zac tells him to do because he thinks he’s not good enough. he needs to feel like he’s important, which is why he never wanna leave your side. you make him feel special, and needed. between that and the lack of blue in his system, he had grown to be really clingy with you. and his needs, his certain needs, now washing over him like a big perpetual confusing wave

you hear his stalking steps behind, following you through the ominous hall connecting the working quarters to your dorms. he’s been after your back all day, and now he’s even sniffing the trail of scent you left behind. “you smell good” he starts, throwing his head back while dragging his hands down his face. he is getting ridiculous. now he’s sniffing you around like an animal ? “did you shampoo ?” he continues, making you halt your steps for a moment to take his dumb words in before continuing to walk. shaking your head in disbelief that you’re responding to his question, “they sent me the new ones to sample so yeah, earlier” you explain, telling him about the new shampoo they’ve formulated, experimenting with improved ingredients from the lab. “can you stop for a moment ? where are you going anyways ?” he hasten his steps behind you, pondering on how are you walking so fast. before you know it he manages to quickly grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours. now that you’re forced to stop, you turn and raise your chin to look at him, who’s grinning.

“i need to report back to them, kai”

“what ? like now ?”

“yes, now”

“they can wait”

moving the strand of hair out of your face, you sigh at him. looking up at him through your lashes, your face clearly unamused. “no kai, unlike you who clearly has nothing better to do they’re actually working and contributing to the ship” you squint your eyes as you say that, making him take a step back to scoff at you. if only he could channel this newfound energy or hormones on something else, he would’ve actually made a difference. like maybe fixing and updating your database thats turning obsolete from how ancient it is, or come out with a new security system. that would’ve made you drool over him, even reward with after a hard day of doing men’s job. instead, he’s been chasing you around the ship all day since yesterday, snooping up your ass, waiting as you do chores hoping to get in your pants. like you said, it’s the lack of blue

you gesture your hand around signalling that you’re done here if he doesn’t have anything else to say, too tired of him to even roll your eyes. he’s frustrated to say the least, confused with his own neediness, struggling to navigate the feelings. he could’ve just gone to any other girls on the ship, they’ll gladly let him into their dorms but he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want them. what the both of you have is something sacred to him that he refuses to jeopardise. even so, you’re starting to give him blue balls, he’s wondering how can you be so composed, as you’ve also stopped taking the blue while he’s sweating and fidgeting. “go find something useful to do kai, leave me alone”. it’s not like you’re mad at him, but it hasn’t been long since the last time you gave in because of his pleas.

“why are you being such a bitch ? zac’s right, girls are fucking difficult” kai’s towering over you, letting go of your hands. he almost gave up when you start walking away before he continues his petty tantrum. “you act like you’re sooo important, always doing this and that, acting like you don’t want me” you’ve turned your heels away from him long ago, ignoring his silly words that are far from insults. you were about to block his voice out of your hearing before you hear him, “walk away all you want but we both know you were begging for my cock like a slut” you’re lucky the hallways empty or else anyone could’ve heard him easily. his last words flicked a switch inside your head, making you turn around to quickly stomp towards him. he can’t be serious.

he could’ve accepted and just walk away like a man but decided to act like a bitch instead, whining around that you wouldn’t let him get his dick wet. you reach over for his shirt, pulling him by fisting the fabric on his chest, your bodies almost colliding. you can feel his warm breath fanning over you as he falls quiet and his face drops. “you’re so fucked, kai” you say as you start dragging him by his shirt, walking across the hallway before taking a turn towards his dorm. he struggles to follow your steps with you pulling him forward, forcing him to bend a little. he almost trips over multiple times on the ship’s floor. as you stop in front of his dorm, you push him forward, he almost stumble over his feet. “unlock it” you order him, to which he quietly obeys, pressing his code into the lock display.

you push him inside quickly before locking the door behind you to avoid anyone noticing. after making sure it’s just the both of you, you step forward, making him step back before his heels hit the side of his bed in the small compound. he’s forced to sit as you settle between his legs, his head tilted upwards to look at you, too scared to look away. “im so tired of you running your mouth,” you begin, lifting your hand to cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb over his clear skin. he’s starting to regret the things he said to you, nervous anticipating what’s going to happen now that he’s pissed you off. “do you think you’re better than me ?” you ask him softly, waiting for his answer patiently as you can clearly see him keeping in his answer, his eyes trailing somewhere else. moving your fingers over his lips, you play with them, gently pulling at the bottom one. you smile at him.

“so you do think you’re better ?” before he could give you any response, you thrust your index and middle finger pass his lips, pushing down on his tongue. “you’re pretty, kai,” you say, as you thrust your fingers further. “but sometimes you can be such a bitch” your fingers are now slotted snug against his tongue, he struggles to keep himself from gagging as his eyes are becoming glossy, small tears pooling at the corners. he shuts his eyes for a moment before shaking his head, he tries to make out something but they’re mumbled because of your fingers. you coo at him before retracting them and cupping his cheek. he’s short of breath yet wastes no time, “m’sorry” you shake your head, giving him a look before firmly tapping his cheeks with your saliva covered fingers. traces of spit sticks onto his face as you push him down by his head, his hand grabbing at your wrist.

you quickly push your pants down with your free hand before quickly getting on top of him on the bed. he’s starting to smirk from seeing you sitting pant-less on him, thinking that you still gave in after all. he raises his hands to place them on your waist, before even starting to rub at your exposed thighs. you smile at him as you take his hands, guiding and placing them on your covered tits, earning a soft small moan from him. he’s happily kneading at the soft flesh as you reach over beside the bed, where there are drawers. you pull out one of them to fish out something before placing it over his hands, zip tying them together swiftly.

he was too caught up in the feeling, eyes closed and all to notice what you’re doing. he looks as if he’s panicking, trying to break the zip tie off but the friction’s hurting his wrists. “fuck- i said i was sorry ?” he lets out, his bent knees moving around and hitting the wall. you let out a sigh looking at him, as he returns a wide eyed look at you, hoping for you to take the zip tie off. “please baby ?” he tries again, before you move over him, your knees settling on each side of his head, your pussy hovering right above his face. “don’t baby me”.

you couldn’t be bothered to look at him as you run your hands through his tight curls, tugging slightly at the roots before settling all of your weight on his face, his mouth open to take your pussy. just as he flattens his tongue to lap up your juices he lets out a hummed moan, the vibration sending chills down your spine. you tighten your grab on his roots, making him hum, his tied hands behind you flailing around, tortured that he doesn’t get to feel you. one thing kai is if he’s not anything else is he’s a pussy eater, and he can so it for hours. he gets off from eating pussy, and does it like nobody’s business. but you’ve never sat on his face, though he’s begged you to before. you weren’t comfortable with the thought but you know this will shut him up.

he continues his laps against your pussy as his tongue licks at the sensitive nub, before gently sucking on it, making you whine loudly. you quickly snap out of the feeling to control your loudness, with the compound walls being thin as ever and people outside that might hear. kai doesn’t have to worry about his sounds as they’re all muffled by your pussy, so he’s moaning and whining against your folds each time his tastebud indulges your taste. his cock’s hard in his pants, begging to be let out and touched. so kai settles for the next best thing he could get right now, his tied hands cupping over his hard on and rubbing across the bulging length.

the friction of the fabric of his pants against his cock makes him feel good, he’s moaning as his hand rubs over his sensitive tip yet nothing compares to sinking inside your warm pussy. if you give him a chance right now he’s willing to kneel before you and beg for you to let him fuck, he’ll promise to do all the work while you just lay down and be a pillow princess. unfortunately his mouth is covered and pressed down against your pussy. not that he’s complaining, he gets to suck and lap the juices off your folds.

you’ve had enough of him having fun so you start grinding down, moving your hips back and forth, your pussy rubbing against his mouth and his nose. all you can see now is his eyes, glossy with long lashes staring back at you, his eyelid heavy from the pleasure. he’s moaning uncontrollably underneath you now that you’re grinding against his face, your clit nudging at his nose making you moan, your fingers tugging down at his roots. his hands are cupping his hard on, obvious bulge poking through his pants. his bent knees are flailing around from the pleasure, his hips bucking up into thin air, not quite enough to turn the restraint on his cock into pain. his waist hovers over the bed, as he speeds up his lapping against your folds. all while he’s tortured by the blood rushing to the tip of his cock, he’s overwhelmed by the sweet taste of your pussy and scent pushing down against his face. you let out a whine as you feel his lips sucking at your hole, slurping up the wetness leaking out with his tongue before fucking your hole with it.

he’s now fucking you with his tongue, sending you waves after waves of pleasure that’ll eventually come down sooner or later. “mnmgh, fu- so good kai” your praise fills him with more excitement to please you, as his slurping on your sex makes loud noises in the compound. “fuck, kai- you-you’re gonna be good after this ?” your question comes out staggered and whiny, the pleasure invading your words. he nods against your pussy, his nose nudging against your sensitive nub. “mmnhgh- oh my god, f- you’re gonna stop calling girls with that word ?” he nods rapidly, the repeated nudges of his nose making you twitch. the knot in your lower belly tightening as you pin his head down by his hair, before grinding harder against his face. you could feel his plump lips sucking on your clit. arching your back from the pleasure before looking down, you see his brown eyes already set on you, looking away just to watch your body move and writhe on top of him.

“oh my god- kai, fuck- gonna cum” you’re now borderline bouncing on his face, your hips twitching as you chase your high. he knows that you’re about to cum as he speeds up his tongue fucking into your hole. “gonna give you my cum” you hear him let out a muffled sound, as you’re busy chasing your orgasm. his hands are rubbing and squeezing down on his covered length, trying to calm the blood rushing that’s making him rock hard. you let out your final whine before moaning hard, your hips halting its movements against his face as your orgasm washes down, and you’re cumming on his mouth.

you begin to raise your hips to hover over his mouth as you immediately hear him moan, his tied hands tugging at the back of your shirt. “fuck!” curses flow out of his lips as soon as he gets to speak. his hips are bucking hard because of his twitching thighs. your breasts are heaving, trying to catch your breath and settle down. you turn your upper body to look behind you to notice the small beads of white seeping through his pants, and the bulge poking through it twitching around. your eyes go wide at the view of him cumming untouched in his pants before turning back to look at him who’s smiling at you, his eyelids droopy from being pussy drunk.

his smile is crooked and he’s seconds away from passing out. you cup your hands over your mouth for a moment before leaning down to gently kiss him, your fingers running slowly through his curls to massage his scalp. you reach again into the drawers to find a scissor, before turning behind to release his hands. he immediately reach up to wrap his arms around your waist, before you pull them away to slowly rub at his wrists. “mmhm” your gentle touch offers him some relief, making him hum in contentment. the traces of the zip tie leaving red marks as your fingers smooth over the skin.

you tsk at the obvious imprint of the restraint on his wrists, which are probably hurting like hell yet he’s too awestruck to complain. you’re still on top of him, sitting on his steady chest as he just lets you inspect his hands, too worn out to even do anything. “i love you” he mumbles out. you take his hands and place them together against your chest before leaning down again to kiss his lips. he gently returns the kiss before letting you kiss all up his cheeks, nose, eyes and forehead. “promise to be good, kai” his glossy eyes search into yours as his hands roam across your waist.

“maybe”

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