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harmonicakai · 2 days

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Powerslide

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: Usually, your best friend’s player roommate is the most annoying person on earth, but after your date ditches you, he’s more than willing to step in as a replacement.

Tropes: enemies to whatever this is, frat boy!yeonjun, bff!taehyun, college AU, soft dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, kinda exhibitionism & dacryphilia

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut (mdni!!!!!!!!!!), mentions of alcohol

A/N: My friend really wanted a Yeonjun fic to happen and I suddenly felt like writing this. I am NOT a smut writer, so this might not be very good, but I tried <3

“Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you” —Boyfriend, Ariana Grande & Social House

The guy you’ve been seeing has pissed you off for the last time. As soon as you got a text asking to reschedule tonight’s date, while you were already standing outside of the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at, it was over.

You reply for him to go fuck himself and trudge back to campus to complain to your best friend, Taehyun.

Despite the two of you becoming almost inseparable after being paired up in organic chemistry together, it’s clear to both of you that it’s just a platonic thing. If you had to pick which one of his friends you were most into, it’d be his roommate, Yeonjun.

Except he pisses you off more than the guys you actually go out with. You can’t recall a time where you’ve ever talked to him sober or he hasn’t shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever else was involved in the conversation.

You know he sees girls as pawns and not people, and so you don’t even bother thinking about the two of you together. Until he answers the door instead of Taehyun, fresh from the shower, water still dripping from his hair onto the towel barely clinging to his waist.

“Where’s Taehyun?” you ask. Your line of sight naturally falls on his bare chest, but you do your best to look up at his face. He’s smirking at you.

“He’s got a soccer game,” Yeonjun says, stepping aside to let you into the common room. “Should be over soon if you want to wait for him.”

You walk past him, plopping yourself onto their small couch. Yeonjun’s eyes don’t leave you, taking in your full date night outfit and the way it hugs you perfectly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You can swear you can hear him about to burst out into laughter as he watches you go through the five stages of grief. “You had a date tonight, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?” you sit up, finally locking eyes with him. By now, he’s got a full fledged grin on his face.

“Taehyun told me,” he shrugs, his towel becoming looser with every movement. “Listen, I was just being nice and asking. If you want to ice me out like you always do, go ahead.”

His honesty makes your face heat up in anger. Yes, you’ve never been very nice to him, but for good reason. He’s just another fuckboy in a frat, and you’ve dealt with enough of those in your first years of college to know better.

“I can be nice,” you scoff, turning to look out the window. It’s so dark that all you can see are the streetlamps in the distance.

“Then by all means, show me,” he says, his voice shifting from playful to something more serious. “I’d really like to see how nice you can be.”

There’s something about the way he’s talking to you that feels good. Wrong, but good.

“Fine,” you relent, looking back to see he’s gotten much closer to you than before. “But you need to go get dressed.”

“Am I distracting?” he smiles, tilting his head at you. You roll your eyes.

“More like nauseating,” you lie. He is distracting, just like usual. The only thing that really keeps you from giving him a chance is how annoying he is, but for some reason, you’re happy to entertain his advances tonight.

“I’ll be right back,” he says before walking into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s got a red hoodie and ripped jeans thrown on, his hair still damp and messy. “Better?”

“Much better,” you approve. He nods before sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough so that his hand can graze your knee without it being obvious that he’s totally doing it on purpose. “Do you really want to hear about my love life?”

“Hmm, what else would we talk about?” he hums, his gaze locked on your glossy red lips. You can feel your face heat up, prompting you to scoot further away from him.

“We could talk about yours instead. Although, from what Taehyun tells me, I’m not sure you’re even capable of love.”

“Ouch. I could be, you know? For the right girl.”

“And who’s the right girl?”

“You.” You want to laugh at how ridiculous this all is, but Yeonjun’s breath is hot against your neck, and he leans in to place a single kiss against your sensitive skin. “I can treat you better than any of those other guys, Y/N. Let me show you.”

Fuck it, you think to yourself. He’s here and he’s hot and he’s desperate for you. You turn to face Yeonjun, crashing your lips onto his. He tastes sweet, no doubt from the bubblegum he’s always smacking whenever you’re around.

When he moans into your kiss and grips his hand in your hair, you feel a shockwave in your core. You climb into his lap, his hard-on nestling in between your legs. He groans at the pressure.

“God, you’re so hot,” he gasps in between kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Trust me, I know,” you laugh. “You make it so obvious.”

“I can’t help myself around you, Y/N.” He snakes a hand underneath your skirt, his fingers feeling how he’s already got you soaked through your panties. It takes everything in him not to finish right then and there. “Can I touch you?”

“Not now,” you say, your hand gripping his wrist and pinning it against the couch. Tonight, you’re in charge. “Maybe if you’re good for me, we can do this again.”

“Please,” he sighs as you grind your hips into him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

You never pegged Yeonjun as someone who begs in the bedroom, but you aren’t complaining. You pull away from him, moving off of his lap to beside him, your hand palming his erection through his jeans.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched. You bring your free hand up to his chin, moving his head to face you.

“Open your eyes,” you tell him. “I want you to look at me.”

“I can’t,” he stammers. “I’ll cum if I do.”

“You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so,” you whisper, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. His breathing grows heavier by the second. “Yeonjun. Look at me or I will never let you touch me again.”

His eyes shoot open and he’s not sure how much more he can take. Sure, your body is to die for, but it’s always been your face that he likes the best. Seeing you with messy hair and smudged lipstick, all because of him, is an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for months.

“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” you tell him, moving your hand faster. He could really get used to you calling him that.

By now, he can’t control his moans and tears start to run down his face. All he can do is whine your name over and over in the hopes that you’ll finally give him permission to finish.

As if it weren’t agonizing enough, the front door’s handle starts to jiggle. “Hey, Jun?” Taehyun’s voice calls from outside. “Can you let me in, man? I forgot my key.”

Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the sound of his roommate. You reach up to cover his mouth. “Be quiet, Junie. You don’t want Taehyun to hear you, do you?”

He shakes his head as you continue palming him through his pants, one of your fingers slipping into his mouth. He moans around it.

Taehyun starts banging on the door. “Dude, are you asleep? Wake up! I need to shower and get to bed.”

You laugh at the nervous look on Yeonjun’s face, cupping his cheek with your free hand and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Cum for me, baby. It’s okay.”

Your words send him over the edge and he’s bucking your hips into your hand just seconds later. He does his best to keep quiet, although not even your kiss is enough to dampen the string of profanities that leave his lips.

When he’s done, he stares at you with sleepy eyes and the most satisfied grin on his face. Both of you look down at the wet spot on his crotch. He’s never going to be able to wear these pants again.

“Go change,” you say, patting his cheek and getting up from the couch. You smooth your hair down and fix your skirt into place. “I’ll get the door.”

Yeonjun knows that every time he looks at you now, he’ll be thinking of coming undone under your touch. He quickly scrambles out of the room before you can let Taehyun in.

“It’s about fucking time, man,” Taehyun scoffs, his eyes locked on his phone. When he looks up, he’s shocked to be greeted by you instead of his roommate. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you say, smiling at the confused look on his face. “I wanted to tell you about my date.”

“Oh, yeah, that was tonight. Sorry, I picked up a game at the rec center.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, following him into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. “Yeonjun kept me company.”

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @niningtori @csbenthusiast @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

Literally only tagging the people from my taglist that I KNOW are over 18!!!

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt fic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt angst #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun angst #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun #yeonjun txt #txt yeonjun #txt smut #yeonjun smut

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y2kuromi · 2 days

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✶ : ❛ 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 : seishiro nagi x reader

˖ ִֶָ𐀔 contents ⋮ fluff. cw! mentions of alcohol. est rel. second person and third person pov. birthday fic cs i miss my loser

nagi was no stranger to loneliness, rather he found it comfortable and familiar because he strongly believed people and parties were bothersome.

he was quite sure he was allergic to parties. they were loud, overcrowded and he could think of countless other ways to spend his birthday— playing valorant ranked, binge reading manga or better yet sleeping. alone.

that's how he’d always spent his birthday. he was free to do whatever he wanted and the presents his parents sent in the mail made up for their lack of presence. the sixth of may had always been just another day to him.

this year it was a day he wanted to spend with you.

he had to some degree, you’d let yourself into his apartment relatively early with intricately piped lemon cupcakes and a new controller for his playstation before reo dragged him off to keep him out of your way.

the small party you’d thrown left his apartment undeniably altered. to be frank, not much had changed. it was as messy as ever — with sparkly confetti adorning the floorboards and the bottles of soju cluttering the coffee table — but it felt less lonely, he felt less lonely

after he’d gotten over the initial shock of being showered with confetti and having his apartment filled with his friends, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips and his eyes shone brighter than the stars themselves.

the starry-eyed look he sent you as reo and isagi whisked him away for celebratory shots is filled with the purest form or love. it’s unwavering, and stronger than the lemon flavoured soju they sipped for hours.

it’s stronger than the frown that tugged at barou’s lips as he herded his intoxicated teammates outside and it’s stronger than the hangovers that would follow consequently in the morning.

seishiro’s apartment is empty now, save for the two of you curled up on the sofa. he seems to melt into you as your fingers comb through the messy mop of white hair against your thigh.

he’s never felt more comfortable than he is now with his head on your lap as he taps at the fps game he’s playing on his phone. his gray eyes are fixed on you as he clears the stage and a cutscene fills his screen.

he doesn’t think he’s ever put his phone down faster. the cushions on the sofa dip as he props himself up on his elbows, leaning forward to close the space between you.

“headshot” he hums, pressing his lips languidly to your temple.

you laugh — it's pretty, comfortable and you look absolutely breath-taking doing it. his heavy lidded gaze falls to your lips and he doesn’t hesitate to press a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. seishiro always seems to melt when he kisses you

he wasn't the type of boyfriend who would publicly whirl you around and kiss you breathless in front of a crowd — though he would always find you in one — he was still a little clumsy and awkward when it came to love but it was starting to become as easy as breathing.

he blinks at you sleepily, undeniably kiss drunk, and far more intoxicated by the sweet scent of your perfume than the blur of lemon soju lingering on his lips as he pulls away.

“thanks for throwing me a party” he murmurs — a low drawl that reverberates against your skin and fills the space between you.

“glad you liked it, sei” you smile, in a way that’s so soft it makes him want to lean in and kiss you again. he finds he’s too tired and settles for laying his head down on your lap again.

he could care less about the blinking ‘you lose’ screen on his discarded phone as he feels your fingers continue their ministrations on his scalp

it’s adorable, the way he’s fighting to keep his eyes open — letting them drift closed ever so slightly when your thumb brushes softly against his cheek. he basks in the warmth you radiate before you slowly attempt to peel yourself off the sofa

“where you going?” he murmurs drowsily, gray doe-eyes blinking owlishly at you. his brows are furrowed slightly and his lips tug together in a makeshift pout

“home” you sigh, “it’s pretty late, i should probably head out soon” you can't help the laughter spilling from your lips at the quiet, sleepy protests that leave his pouty lips.

"stay the night" he frowns, tracing messy, wobbly hearts on the bone of your encased wrist. “ts still my birthday, you can’t leave me yet”

his eyes shine with a silent plea and he gazes up at you from your lap with warmth that rivals the sun when its rays kiss your shoulders. it’s convincing — enough that you find yourself softening and sinking back into the sofa.

“okay, i’ll stay” you say quietly. seishiro sighs when your fingers comb through his hair again and you know it’s less because he’s well past tired and more because as far as birthdays went, this is the best he’d ever had.

#ִֶָ 𓂃˖ mimi writes?!#⋆ 𝓫. llk ﹕#𓂃˖ letters from: nagi #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk #blue lock x female reader

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madamecalypso · 2 days

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Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader, where Alastor is Reader's secret crush, and Reader is oblivious to Alastor's advances. Reader befriends and ends up accidentally kissing someone else which leads to lots of misunderstandings, a jealous Alastor, and a tense relationship between Reader and their other friend. Eventually, Alastor confronts the other person and they have a fight which is broken up by Reader, who is furious with them both and refuses to talk to Alastor for the next week. Alastor is distraught.?

Hi @cartoonykat, thanks for the request. I really liked the prompt so I wrote this before sleeping. I hope I brought this prompt justice. I even have the perfect song for this as an inspiration.

I hope you enjoy it!!

To fall in love

Alastor was never known to be affectionate. Yet with your arrival that seems to have changed. At first he only planned to mess with you, a sinner oblivious to the dealings of hell brought by Charlie after seeing you amidst the chaos outside of Pentagram city.

At first, he thought that your innocence was just irritating, he never saw another sinner who matches Charlie's outlook and bubbly personality. When he first saw you, he immediately thought that you are a lamb for slaughter.

Yet it immediately changed one morning when he went down and saw you in the kitchen. Busy preparing breakfast for everyone who is still slumbering.

Your hair was tied in a messy bun while wearing his apron, pulling out freshly cooked croissants from the oven. He also noticed the brewed coffee in the French Press. Your eyes shined brightly, clearly enjoying preparing everything as a thanks for accepting you in the hotel.

As he vanished from the shadows he deemed that you piqued his interest. You may actually be a form of entertainment he did not anticipate.

As weeks passed you have befriended everyone in the hotel including Alastor. You were still wary of the Radio Demon after the warnings of Vaggie but it seems like the Overlord was actually the most friendly of all.

Whenever you are tasked with going outside, he immediately volunteers to accompany you. At first, you were afraid to be near him yet he's quite the gentleman whenever you're together. And with him, you are often not bothered by other sinners which you are grateful for. Unaware of the killer looks Alastor gives to anyone who tries to approach you unaware that he was doing it.

He is also attentive to you, often being near you and listening to your stories. Serving you first whenever he cooks which you do in return whenever you are tasked to cook or to prepare breakfast for everyone. It seems that wherever you are, Alastor is always nearby to help if needed.

Charlie and the inhabitants of the hotel seem to get the hint of the Overlord's interest in you, for what motives they don't know yet but you seem to be quite oblivious about it.

You on the other hand started to form a crush with him. Well who wouldn't as he became a dear friend to you as months passed. When you realized these feelings you were quite horrified as you knew that this might ruin your friendship if he knew.

Alastor on the other hand was satisfied with how your friendship progressed, as you really did provide a better entertainment than anyone could. His dear friend Rosie made him realize his affection for you one afternoon during his visit to her emporium which confused him a lot.

"You like the gal my dear, when are you gonna admit it to yourself? You are not the type to talk about one topic especially a specific sinner whenever we see each other"

"I'm not really into love that you flaunt in some glittery font so I don't know what you mean dear Rosie"

"Denying it makes it more true Alastor"

After his conversation with her. He knew he needed to think of a plan to admit this to you, it seems like he really is deeply enamored with you and Rosie was apparently right. But for now he would just continue leaving subtle hints.

----

During one of Charlie's trust exercises, everyone was partnered up and tasked to share 2 truths and a lie with the other. Alastor as usual was observing everyone and decided to not participate. You were partnered with Angel Dust who excitedly grabbed your hands with a plan on his mind.

After all he plans to be the wing man for you and smiles. You after all confided in him your crush with the Radio Demon one drunken night. And he knows the best way to push both of you in the right direction is through jealousy. Just to see if smiles were truly interested in you.

"So sugar doll you start first!" Angels enthusiastically spoke as you both sat at the still of the bar.

You nervously smile before speaking. "Well, I haven't been kissed in a while, a building almost fell down on me when I first arrived in hell and I hate the color red"

Almost immediately after you speak, Angel leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. Your eyes widened and you immediately blushed.

"There!, now you told me 2 lies and 1 truth Snookums" Angel replied seductively.

Before you could berate the spider demon for thinking that it was a great gag, a loud record scratch followed by static was heard and almost immediately Angel vanished in front of you and was thrown against the wall by a black tentacle.

Chaos ensues as everyone tries to stop Alastor from eviscerating Angel. You on the other hand were shocked, finally seeing Alastor's brutality first hand. You didn't think that he was capable of such things. I guess this is why they warned you to still clear from him.

You snap from your shock as you see Alastor's larger form towering in front of Angel who was disoriented from the force after being thrown. You immediately run towards them and shield Angel from him.

"Alastor! Stop!" You shouted, eyes wide as you saw how he looked. He turned to look at you, eyes black with his pupils turned into the shape of radio dials. Immediately he transformed back and tried to explain to you. As he reached to touch your hand, you slapped it away and helped Angel up.

"Mon chéri, I.." Alastor tried to speak but you cut him off in anger.

"I'm disappointed in both of you! Angel I don't know why you thought it would be fun to kiss me but you should have warned me!" You looked at both of them in anger, eyes tearing up from the frustration of what just occurred.

"And Al!, I know you are protective of me and I like you for that but you shouldn't have hurt Angel! He was just teasing even if he didn't warn me beforehand. You know how he acts sometimes"

You crossed your arms in anger as everyone looked at you in shock. They never saw you this mad.

"If you both don't fix and make up, I'm not talking to both of you anymore!" As you finished speaking you ran upstairs, leaving everyone still shocked.

---

It's now two weeks ago since that happened and you avoided Alastor as much as you could. You are still confused why Alastor acted that way.

Angel already asked forgiveness days prior for kissing you without your consent, explaining that he just wanted to test a theory which confused you more. But when you ask what it's about he only winked before walking away.

Alastor on the other hand retreated to his Radio tower and was not seen by everyone ever since. To say that you didn't miss Alastor's presence was an understatement.

Knowing this, you finally took the courage to speak with him and clear everything.

You gently knocked before entering. Immediately you noticed the disarray in the room before landing your eyes on his form sitting on a couch.

'What are you doing here mon chéri?" He gently spoke, his radio filter not present.

"I wanted to talk, I think it's about time we talk regarding what happened that time and it seems like you are also avoiding me" You gently walked closer before sitting beside him.

"It was a strategic retreat. And what is there to talk about? It's over, I ruined it" He muttered, avoiding your gaze.

"Not really, you didn't unless you're not sorry"

"Well, yeah, of course I'm sorry, but..." He immediately rebutted but you cut him of as you said you forgive him.

"No, no, don't forgive me!, why do you do that? You are always so forgiving! Why, why give me another chance to mess things up?"

"Because I love you" You confidently confessed.

Hearing this, Alastor immediately looked at you and stood up. "Because you, what?"

"I love you" You said louder this time.

"Those three little words out of the blue are completely uncalled-for especially from you mon chéri" He started to pace back and forth, his ears twitching as he does.

"I know you don't feel the same way and I accept that" You whispered as you stood up but Alastor immediately stopped you by grabbing your face and kissing you.

"Did you know that I wanted to tear Angel apart as it should only be my lips to touch yours"

Your eyes widened after hearing his confession. "So all this time you.."

"Yes Mon chéri, I love you too. I should have been more upfront in expressing my affections" Your smiles widen. "I guess that's the theory Angel wanted to test then" Your statement caused a realization to dawn on Alastor's face, he really should speak with the effeminate spider soon, possibly to say sorry and thank him.

"Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?" He asked and you nod enthusiastically which made him laugh happily. "You're a moron chéri for such a decision, don't ever change"

"I won't"

#alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hasbin alastor #hazbin alastor #fanfic #story #request

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wifeyoozi · 2 days

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Lee Jihoon ✶ 𓂃 Hold my hand when we run (chapter 1)

w.c : 7.8 k (holy shi-)┊ synopsis : your father's mafia business is in crisis. another gang leader offers your father help, but in exchange of you marrying him. ┊ content warning : (not smut for this chpt but still mdni) ,, mentions of guns, blood, mafias, etc ,, sort of arrange marriage ,, mafia!woozi ,, mafia's daughter! reader ,, lowkey neglectful parents ,, not many major trigger warnings for this chapter ┊ ceecee's note : this is the first chapter and is already so huge lol I think the fic will be about 3-4 chapters in total with the same wc range. smut will follow in chapters ahead. also I have beta-read this myself so there may still be some mistakes so please ignore if possible <3

There was no denying that your father’s business was soon to be doomed. With all the heavy interest loans atop him and after risking another beef with the rival gang, your father had pretty much brought it upon himself.

The rival business had caught up with all of your father’s losses and was coming for his whole gang’s throat now. In the past 3 weeks, you have heard more threats than hellos. You and your mother were soon and surely to be caught up in this tragedy too, if nothing can be done soon enough.

And the alliance parties and the gangs under your father were not helpful at all. If they weren't so deeply tangled up in your father’s business, they’d not be here anymore at all. Hypocritical, you think, how they could lick and kiss your father’s boots at the time of his prime to get away with all of their illegal businesses but do only so much as gossip around about him when he’s in trouble now. They wouldn’t have joined this conference held by your father either, if not for their own businesses and lives, being on the dangerous edge.

Even right now, as your feet angrily shook under the big meeting table, all the leaders and their assistants and their managers and their close men chatted among themselves instead of discussing a business strategy. You wanted to scoff and insult them for their behaviour if not for one of their help bringing in a solution to the room.

A solution in the disguise of a man – another mob boss.

You were just as anxious and restless in the wait of the said boss – who was still absent after a whole hour of the discussed time of the meeting.

You expected yet another self-entitled 50-year-old obese bald man to get involved in your business as if you didn’t already have enough of them in your alliances, too self-centered and careless to be punctual for an important meeting like this one.

Which is why it shocked you when the person who entered the room was a fine young-looking man who walked with elegance and a strong demeanour. Two men followed him, each dressed in black suits as he himself wore a formal (and a little messy) attire with a white wrinkled silk shirt, a black blazer, a loosely looped tie around his neck, and a silver jewellery adoring his neck. Strangely enough, he also wore a metallic silver mask, not covering his face completely, but enough to conceal his identity. He was a bit short than average man but not unattractively so, his hair long, pulled back into a slick ponytail at the back of his head, only a few strands escaping at the front.

Everyone in the room instantly stood up in his presence, and you followed. He scanned the large room, eyes as uninterested as they could be as he offered himself a sit at the centre of the table, right leg crossed over the left and leaning back with zero respect shown to those who are all definitely elder to him. You were simultaneously annoyed and impressed at his attitude.

“Woozi-ssi, welcome!” one of the men in the room exclaimed. Your mouth opened slightly ajar as you realised who you sat in front of. Woozi – the young yet powerful, rich and pretty much self-made boss of the rather new mafia group from another city – was in front of you. You had heard about him before, about his weaponry, money laundering, and contract-killing business, from your father or other colleagues in your father’s office, but you'd never thought you would actually ever meet him.

Another man took the opportunity to speak, “Woozi-ssi! I’m the one who contacted you, Seon Jong-soo! And look here, this is my son, Seon Jae-”

“I couldn’t care less for the formalities, Seon whatever-your-name-is,” Woozi interrupted unbothered, “what’s the problem I was called for.”

You exchanged glances with your father before he sighed briefly and explained his situation – the loan, the possible business downfall, the threats of the rivals. Another man, whom you assumed to be his personal assistant, backed behind him and noted it all down in a small notepad.

When your father was done talking, Woozi huffed a chuckle. “Doesn’t sound as big of a deal to me,” because it isn’t your darn family at potential gunpoint, bastard, you couldn’t stop thinking. “Is no one even gonna offer me some whiskey?”

You could almost scoff at this man’s behaviour if it wasn’t for your whole family’s life to be in his hands now.

Your father motioned to one of his men, who ran out of the room to grab a drink. The mafia leader in front of you leaned his head back and closed his eyes in the meanwhile. The others in the room could only look at each other, before one of them attempted to speak up, “so, woozi-ssi, what do-”

“Shh, boss is thinking,” the man behind him - the assistant spoke. You internally scoffed, the man is a second away from snoring. The whiskey comes in and gets served to Woozi, who takes one long sip from the glass.

“You don’t have to worry, Mr l/y/n, I'll handle the situation completely. Your rival is a rival to me too. And an enemy of the enemy is a friend – isn’t that what they say? Anyways, regardless,” woozi spoke, chuckling a little, and scanned his eyes around the room, briefly making eye contact with every other person. His gaze didn't meet yours though, not yet. “Regardless that, what do I get in return?”

You could see your father squirm in his place. There were usually only a few specific things mafia businesses exchanged during alliances. It could be drugs – not something your father dealt with usually, but could arrange for with his wide reach of contacts. Though you doubt woozi would sell his deal with that, when he could very much fetch better deals himself. It could be humans or organs, but you wouldn’t let your dad trade some innocent people to be slaughtered and sold like that. It could be money, but woozi is already paying your loan, you wouldn't expect it to be a deal if he was to ask it back with interest, putting your father in the same risk all over again. It could be trade of arms and weaponry and fighting men, but you hardly think woozi lacks any of those as it is. Or it could be, the less common but most frustrating one – a marriage alliance.

“Well, what is it that you desire, woozi-ssi?” your father offered, “i may not be able to give it to you instantly, but i can surely arrange for it soon enough.”

“Hmm,” jihoon began dramatically, looking up at the ceiling in thought, “what can I have? I have everything, money, business, house, cars, girls, men, guns, weapons, and did I mention money? Well, nothing I need, really,” you bit your tongue, is he actually thinking or just showing off? “Then again, how can I make a deal if I do not get anything out of it.”

One thing you could see woozi was very good at doing is shutting up these otherwise talkative old men, making them uncomfortable enough to stop spewing their nonsense. You wouldn’t lie, that was quite attractive on his behalf.

“There are quite some beautiful ladies in this room, and I am still unmarried, you know,” woozi spoke again. You weren’t the only girl in the room, surely, but most of them were rather lowly assistants, old wives of some men or some waitresses to cater the guests. You wonder if woozi was trying to gesture towards you all along – looking like the only girl around his age with a higher social status, and especially considering who's daughter you were. Your doubts were only confirmed when woozi makes eye contact with you, “what’s her name.”

His dark eyes felt like piercing through yours, intimidating your soul. You held every muscle of your body to not flinch and look away from him. Your father moves a little, attempting to talk, but you speak before him, “l/y/n y/n, his daughter,” you say gesturing towards your father. Your ears feel hot and red under his strong gaze, when he smirks at your boldness.

“W-woozi-ssi, can’t we see for other arrangements, some other girl? I do have contacts with some girls who are more beautiful and worthy of your attention,” you father stumbles upon his words, trying to shift the mafia’s dangerous eyes from you.

They don't though. His eyes remain focused on you even as he speaks to your father, “I hardly think we can,” he says firmly, “unless, of course, she would rather reject me.”

As sincere as his words sounded, his smirk added a doubt in it. A condition in his deal. You knew all the eyes in the room were looking at you. Your father wanted to keep you apart from a man neither of you knew anything about. As much as his business meant to him, he wouldn’t sacrifice his daughter’s safety for it.

You however thought otherwise, “i … i’m not rejecting you,” you say, not knowing any better words to say at the instant, too caught up in your thoughts already.

The corners of woozi’s lips pulled into a smile as he gestured towards you, “C’mere, pretty.”

You were nervous in your steps as you got up from your seat and strode to him. He stood up in front of you. His strong demeanour made you feel like he was towering over you even though you weren't much shorter than him. You didn't let the eye contact break, even up close here.

He looked away first, reaching to move the loose strands of your hair from your face and tucking them behind your ears. His fingers lingered there, brushing over the skin of the back of your ears to your neck and restover the back of your neck. You shivered at his touch. His fingers were calloused and rough and cold.

When he held your neck like that, you thought he would do something embarrassing and shameless like pull you in a kiss in front of everyone.

He doesn't, in fact, pull you in a kiss. Instead, with a single flick of his fingers, he opens the single silver chain you wore and takes it in his hand. You gasped lightly, the chain wasn't something you wanted him to play with – it was the last gift you had received from your grandmother before her demise.

He takes out a ring from the many he wore in his left hand – a shiny silver with a red diamond in the centre. “Here, a betrothal gift from me,” he said, as he inserted your chain through the ring’s loop, “don't think my rings would fit your hand, so wear it here instead.”

He pulled your hair to the side as he hooked the chain back around your neck. The close proximity forced you to breathe in his expensive intoxicating cologne. He stared deep into your eyes once again. His hand slid down your back and rested on your waist. Your jaw involuntarily tightened, your fists forming.

“Father-in-law,” Woozi spoke, breaking your eye contact to look at your father, “I'll send my assistant with a contract for you to sign tomorrow. Read it carefully and all, don't want you at my ass later. You'll see all your work done by the weekend. The following weekend, I'll marry your daughter.”

Woozi wasn't asking, or planning. He was commanding. You knew your father was glancing at you, but you did not know how to meet his eyes, so you kept yours to the floor.

Your father must have had a lot more questions to ask the mafia, of course, but he had no time to do so as the latter had already begun walking out of the hall, his assistant and bodyguards following close behind.

More than a week has passed already. Five days ago, you were notified by your father that all your loans were paid “mysteriously”. You weren't shocked. From what you had heard, Woozi did have that kind of money. Three days ago you saw it on the news, the rival gang leader was arrested for illegal smuggling of drugs. Their gang also underwent bankruptcy. You don't know how Woozi managed to do all of it within a few days, but he did.

It gives you some comfort of the future, that you'll be going to live in a house where you would be provided with all you'll need and want. But it still haunts you that you'll be spending the rest of your life with a man you don't love. A man who may not even love you back. That you were still being traded off to a mafia.

You weren't new to all of this, of course. You grew up with your father dealing with blood all the time. You grew up with at least two men beside you at all times so you weren't kidnapped or murdered by your father's enemies. You learnt how to use a gun when you were 12. You had gone through intense self-defence training. You've never had any real friends, let alone a lover. You had seen people get shot in the heart in front of your eyes. You had already grown up in the mafia lifestyle to be scared about it.

But still, for some reason, you were.

Hell, you didn't even know how the man you were marrying looked under that damn mask. You had only seen him once in your life and that too with his face half covered.

It was almost noon and you were still in your bed. You hadn't slept all night. You haven't been able to sleep well since the last few days, and last night, you just spent staring at the ceiling above your head, overthinking every outcome your life possibly could have now.

There was no one to blame except yourself. You were the one who'd agreed to the mafia. But what else were you supposed to do, let your father beg on the street?

There was a knock on the door, “madam? Are you awake yet? There's someone here to meet you.”

You let out a loud groan, “tell them to fuck off. I don't want to meet anyone.”

You heard some murmuring outside and then another voice was heard, not your maid's, but rather a man's, “Darling, I am afraid I can't give you that option. Open the door.”

You groan again, forcing yourself out of the bed, wearing your fluffy pink bunny slippers and walking to open the door to your room. Outside is a man you had never seen before, but that somehow doesn’t surprise you a bit. He has somewhat long hair, half of them pinned behind with only his bangs curtaining his face. He was slender and pretty tall, wearing a white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and grey tailored linen pants. He was objectively beautiful, probably more beautiful than you were yourself, which made you feel even more embarrassed when he grimaced at your appearance.

“Eugh, girl, why do you look like that,” he commented. Which was reasonable considering you were still in your pajamas, not having taken a bath yet, your hair a bird’s nest and your eyes carrying dark eye bags from the lack of proper sleep. The man sighed, “you know what, i’ll give you 45 minutes to wash up and get ready before we go out. I can’t take you out if you look like that.”

“Take me out?” you raised your eyebrows. Who even was this man?

“Ahh, yes, my bad, i haven’t told you yet,” the man says, “i’m Jeonghan and i got sent here by your husband-to-be as your bride’s maid – bride's man? – or whatever you like to call me. Basically to assist you to buy your dress and get you to the saloon and all of that stuff, i got a list. It's two days to your wedding, if you remember. Your husband-to-be wants it all to be perfect for you. Something like that, he said.”

“Isn’t my bride’s maid supposed to ideally be my best friend or sister?” you narrowed your eyes at him, because even if you knew he was not at fault, you were still very angsty about the whole marriage.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “how about this, you call woozi and tell him what you want. I am doing the job I am told to do. I did not train with guns for a whole year to shop for your fucking wedding dress either, so don’t be complaining to me here.”

You sighed, “Fine, whatever, I'll go take a bath.”

You say, and leave to your bathroom. You hurry up with your business, showering and washing hair and getting ready, putting on some decent clothes. You meet up with Jeonghan in the living room of your house and he leads you outside to a slick black SUV. There is a driver at the front and jeonghan sits on the passenger seat, leaving the whole back seat to you.

The two of you first end up in a wedding dress store. It looks expensive from the outside and on the inside. You weren’t a big fan of designer clothes but you sure appreciated a good dress made by a great designer. The lady welcomed you at the door with a big customer-service smile, “ahh, welcome ma’am! Please join me here,” she said leading your way to the inside of the store.

The store was almost suspiciously empty, and you wondered if it was because it was on the luxurious end of the stores or if woozi had booked it for you or something. He very much seemed like the type of man to pull such a thing. Your suspicion only grew when the stylist brought only 5 pairs of dresses with her.

“Your groom selected these five dresses for you to choose from. These are some of our best and latest collection here,” the stylist began, giving all the unnecessary details about the dresses to you. She only stopped when you had let out a yawn, unintentionally interrupting her words.

“Try them on, y/n,” jeonghan urged, “see which you like the best.”

“Sure,” you say with an uninterested face as you take one of the dresses and get behind the changing room to try it on. The first was a long frilly dress with lacey long sleeves. It was nothing too special to be from such a designer store and made you feel like a grandmother. One after the other you tried on the dresses. They were all pretty, not that bad. But not your taste and definitely not something you’d want to wear on your big day.

At the same time, you also knew that you did not have much of a say there and you didn’t want to risk arguing or upsetting Woozi, not knowing what kind of outcomes it could bring to you and your father. So you settled on the last dress you tried, a silky long pearly white dress which reached your feet, not too flowy but not bodycon either with a sweetheart neck and spaghetti straps on both sides. It came along with long gloves and a veil.

“How do i look?” you ask jeonghan, having no one better to ask for opinion.

Jeonghan looked up from his phone and checked you out head to toe, “pretty good. Do you like this one?”

“Better than the rest,” you shrugged, looking at yourself in the mirror. The longer you stare, the weirder the dress starts looking on you. You knew it was something about it all being in the head, when you look at yourself for too long, you remember from one of your psychology classes from college. But it made you wonder if the dress even looked good on you or if jeonghan only said that because he got too tired after seeing you not like any of the dresses, “does this make me look fat?”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “One, the dress really fits you well, and brings out your figure. Two, I am not authorized to say anything about your body and looks, good or bad. And three, ain't nothing wrong with a little curvy? Why do girls fuss about it?”

You rolled your eyes at him through the mirror. You doubt he would speak his mind even if he thought otherwise, for your sake and for his job’s sake. “Sure, whatever. I’ll take this dress then,” you say before entering back behind the privacy curtains to change into the comfortable clothes you came wearing.

After the dress, you shop for shoes and jewelry. Well, barely shop for it. You just had to try on the white glittery heels that were pre-picked for you for the most comfortable size and barely choose between the 3 sets of very similar diamond jewelry sets. It was almost funny. You were just wasting your time when everything was already selected for you. Around 5 pm, jeonghan took you to a saloon.

“You’ll get body and facial spa done today. It will take 3 hours to get it done. Clara will take care of you in meanwhile, ask her for whatever you need. Call me after you’re done,” Jeonghan says, sounding just as tired and bored as you. And you couldn’t even blame him. You sighed and let yourself be taken for your spa session.

By the end of the day, jeonghan brought you back home in the same SUV. you offered him to stay for dinner but he declined it and bid his farewell.

You sighed. Its not that you were friends with the man, or you had gotten fond of him in day (not with that attitude if his, certainly). Its just that you would’ve preferred some company at the dinner table. You were used to sitting alone, your father constantly over some business call and your mother not bothering to eat until late, usually busy with some or the other friend or party. You thought it would get better over the years, and it did, a little. You weren’t particularly sad over your loneliness every night anymore. But the thought of sharing dinner always sounded way more comforting and attractive.

You went to bed early that night, but couldn’t find sleep until tiredness took over your body by the early morning.

The next day was similar. Jeonghan came earlier today and took you to get your hair treated and get waxed and get a manicure and pedicure and your nails done. You did have lunch with him that day, stopping by a nearby local cafe and eating a sandwich on the table you shared. You did not engage in a talk. Jeonghan was busy on a call for most of the time. From the details and notes he supplied, you would assume it was Woozi or at least his assistant. But how frankly and casually he talked, even making a single joke of his height in between almost made you doubt.

“He wants to talk to you – your husband,” Jeonghan said, grabbing your attention. Your eyes widened as he passed his phone to you, not knowing how tos speak suddenly.

“Hey baby,” the voice on the other end cooed. Surely it was Woozi.

“Uhm, hi?”

He chuckled on the other end of the line. “Is your shopping going good? Did you feel better after the saloon trips? I’ve heard girls like this stuff, especially before big events. I don’t know a lot about you but i thought you’d like this. Though you can always tell Jeonghan if you dont like something, he knows how to manage this stuff.”

You didn’t know how to respond. There were a lot of things you didn’t like as it is, the biggest of which was the wedding itself. But you didn't dare open your mouth and speak about it. You just hum neutrally, your fists tightening under the table.

“Well, gotta go now,” Woozi said, “I’ll meet you tomorrow, goodbye, pretty.”

The nickname made your ears heat up. The call was ended before you could bid your bye. So you simply pass the phone back to jeonghan.

“Jih- Woozi isn’t a bad person, you know,” he remarked, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

You raised your eyebrow sarcastically, “of course, how could a mafia leader be bad.”

“No,” Jeonghan chuckled, “yeah, he’s bad like that. But his personality isn’t bad, you know what I mean? He’s got a good heart. He’ll keep you happy.”

You bit your cheek. You didn’t have a response for that, so you just nodded.

The rest of your day was spent packing your luggage to go. Jeonghan didn’t have to assist you in that. Your mother sat you through it and you wish she hadn't. Your mother was almost never there for you, emotionally or physically, even when you needed her the most. You didn't want her crying over your shoulder, lying to you that she'd miss you, making you feel guilty for going away.

Sleep was a little easier that night. You realised your husband's house isn't going to be much different than where you live now anyway. From a gangster to another. Maybe you'd make some friends there. Maybe your husband wouldn't be that bad. Maybe you'll not lose all of your freedom. Maybe, just maybe, you'll get the love you deserve there.

You woke up early that day. You didn't had to leave for the wedding till evening so you took the leisured time to take a milk bath.

You didn't realise until now how insignificant your house was to you. You couldn't bring yourself to cry to leave it even if you wanted to. You didn't have any friends close enough to meet and bid goodbyes to. Nor you had any possession so precious in the house that you'd miss it. You didn't even have a pet to cuddle with a last time.

Have you always been this lonely? You never realised it while working at your father's office or while helping in community service. Those were really the two things you did for the job's sake. You didn't have any special hobbies either. You used to love drawing and painting and cooking when you were younger, but those habits were long left behind when you were introduced in your father's business. No one took you seriously if you were indulging yourself in those girly hobbies.

You wondered what you'd even do after settling in your husband's house. Will you be allowed to work beside him? Will you be given separate tasks to be done?

You really had no idea. You were not prepared for this marriage at all. Not like you have a choice either way, but the thought still fears you.

You are also petrified by the thought of bedding with Woozi. You weren't a virgin, you lost that title back in your senior college year. But you weren't exactly very experienced either. You didn't want to disappoint your husband on your first night. And you had no idea how he was in bed. Would he be too rough? Too merciless? Too harsh? Would he look after your pleasure at all?

All the questions and not one answer.

After your last lunch in your house, Jeonghan returned to your house with stylists and dressers to get you ready. You felt overwhelmed by the amount of ladies continuously focusing on you.

It took a total of 3 hours to get your hair and make up done. The make up was finely done, not too bare but not too much to make you uncomfortable with it either, pretty pink lips with glittery eyes. Your hair was tied in a braided updo, with your front bangs curled and left loose, silver flowery pins arranged on either sides of your head. The dress had only a few last-minute adjustments to be made and a veil was put atop at last.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked pretty. You felt pretty. If you could have married someone you loved, you would have felt happier. You shook your head at the thought. It's for the best, you think, this marriage is for the best. The alternative is best not thought about.

Your eyes flickered to the side when you heard the door open. It was Jeonghan, followed by your father. Jeonghan looked at his wristwatch. “We can leave if you're done, y/n.”

“Just a minute,” your father walked towards you, and kept both his hands over your shoulders, “You look beautiful, daughter.”

You smiled a little. “Thank you.”

Your father spoke a little about his own marriage and how he felt nervous that day. He shed a single tear but quickly wiped it off. “Ah, Jeonghan, I think she is ready to go.”

You glanced between your father and Jeonghan. “Just me? My mom and dad aren't joining?” You asked Jeonghan.

He raised an eyebrow, “they didn't tell you?” He glanced once at your father, who seemed to be stuck with words, then sighed, “yeah only you are leaving. It's a small wedding. What would your family do there, anyway, it's a wedding between you and woozi. Uhm, his words, not mine.”

As much as a point Jeonghan had, your parents not being at your wedding still seemed quite unusual. You didn't speak your thoughts, just picked up your gown and walked out with Jeonghan. You said one final goodbye to your parents and got out of the house.

The car parked outside wasn't the same black SUV. In Fact it was a Limousine. Even your dad doesn't own a Limousine. Your eyes widened as Jeonghan guided you in. Once you are sitting comfortably (or as comfortably as you can get in that dress), the driver starts the journey. Your luggage was sent ahead an hour ago.

“Are you nervous?” Jeonghan asks, sitting opposite to you.

You sigh, “Yeah, kind of. But not much i can do about it.”

“Why are you acting like you're gonna die?” Jeonghan chuckled, “It's just your wedding. Your life ain't ending.”

Easy for him to say. You shook your head. Jeonghan then passes you a pitch black blindfold, “Wear this. You are not allowed to know the location of Woozi's mansion yet. The whole gang base is there. It's a protocol.”

You put the blindfold on. You aren't new to this concept, it's not the first time you've been blindfolded to be taken to a location either.

“Take a nap if you need, it's gonna be a while for us.”

You nod and let your head rest back on the seat cushion. You don't fall asleep instantly, instinctively trying to memorise every turn the car takes. But it's useless in the end with how long the journey is. You do not realise when you drift away listening to the white murmuring of the car engine.

You wake up only about two hours later, with Jeonghan shaking your wrist. You look up instantly, but your vision is still blinded.

“Y/n, we're almost here. You can take off the blind fold.”

You do so, eyes blurring before adjusting to the light in the car. Jeonghan passes you a small bag.

“Touch up your makeup if you need.”

You don't think you really need a touch up, but you end up re-applying your lipstick and puffing some powder on your face to make it slightly more presentable.

Everything happens so fast after that. Your veil is adjusted on your head, you are guided inside the house, and then you are passed a bouquet of fresh flowers - a mix of white and pink lilies and roses and peonies wrapped with a white satin ribbon. The wedding seemed to be taking place in the living room itself, a huge living room. You couldn't even see the whole house from where the car was parked, but you knew it was a freaking big mansion. Bigger than any you have ever lived in or visited.

Your breath feels caught up at the moment.

It almost doesn't feel real as you look at the carpet under your feet, leading to the centre of the living room where your soon-to-be husband stood. You don't look at him as you walk, eyes glued to your own feet. You could almost feel your heart in your throat, it was that loud.

You stand in front of your husband, letting out a big breath as you look up to meet his eyes. You two are about the same height with you in heels. He's still wearing that silly mask over his face, but you can see his small smile and soft eyes through them anyway. “Hey, pretty,” he says, making your cheeks heat up under the make up.

“Hi,” you say weakly. You couldn't bring yourself to say hi, handsome, even as he incredibly looks so. He was wearing a dark grey rich tuxedo with a white dress shirt inside, his first two buttons open to leave a sliver of his collarbone to your sight. His hair was half pulled back and tied as the other half rested over his shoulders, his bangs beautifully framing his face.

The wedding alters begin. It was a short ceremony. No vows were taken by either of you. The officiant has you both confirm your consent in the marriage before having you sign on the marriage documents which would be taken to the court later for authorisation.

“Now the husband may kiss the bride,” the officiant said.

Woozi slipped a hand to push your loose hair strands out of the way and cup your cheek tenderly. “Can I?” He says gently, almost in a whisper.

Your ears burn down to your neck as you nodded slowly. Woozi stared into your eyes for a brief second, almost as if trying to find something in them. You didn't know what it was. He leaned down and met your lips. His other hand went down to hold your waist as he pushed his lips further into the kiss.

You kissed back, not wanting to seem bratty or ungrateful. He was a good kisser, gentle and soft. His lips were a little chapped. Not rough or dry, but you could feel the scrub of his chaps against your lips.

When he pulled away, the very few attendants in the hall clapped. There must be no more than ten in the room other than you two, about 4 body guards, 2-3 men in suits – perhaps assistants or business partners or even brothers, there was Jeonghan and there was the assistant from the other day. There were 2 other assisting women – assumingly maids by their outfits.

You wonder where Woozi’s parents must be. They were certainly not there in the hall at the moment. It was ritualistic in all typical Korean households to bow in front of the bride and groom's parents. Your parents were not even invited. And woozi's seemed to not be around either. Were they even alive?

You shake that thought away. As much liberty to think you had in the privacy of your mind, you still felt it inappropriate to think so of your in-laws.

“We're married now,” Woozi cooed, catching your attention. You nodded, keeping your head low. Woozi chuckled, raising your chin with his finger, “princess, what are you so shy about, hm? You were so bold that day in the meeting room.”

You looked up at him, stared into his dark eyes. He smiled, “ah, there she is.”

“Are you always this annoying?” You spoke your thoughts before you could think. Woozi's eyebrows raised in surprise and you clench your fists, scared that you may have overstepped. Instead, Woozi just chuckles again.

Shaking his head he said, “let's go for the banquet. You must be hungry and tired after the long day.”

You walk as woozi guides you, a hand resting over your hips. You felt awkward as you ended up in another room, smaller than the living room but big enough to accommodate a huge dining table. There were several people around the table already, about two to three dozen, other goons and gangsters and assistants by their looks. They all stood up before you two, bowing first at Woozi then at you.

You and woozi sit at the centre end of the table, two decorated chairs for the two of you, meal already served beside drinks.

A man raised his glass of alcohol, loudly shouting, “Here's to my boss and his new wife! Cheers!”

Everyone else in the room cheered as woozi chuckled, raising his own glass. You felt awkward there, out of place. You just smiled, and raised your glass a little.

The meal begins. You eat slowly, not feeling too hungry and not wanting to drop anything on your dress either. And there were mushrooms in your plate. You hated mushrooms. You tried not to be too picky, to just pick one up and eat. But your face twists as soon as you took one in your mouth. Woozi must have caught on your grimaced face.

“Darling, do you not like the food? Need me to get someone to serve you something else?”

“No, it's fine,” you say, coughing a little, “the food is great.”

“Really? You barely look like you've eaten anything off that plate,” a third voice joins. You turn around to see it's Woozi’s assistant from the other day. He is chuckling as he adds, “or is it that you are rather too hungry for your husband instead?”

Your cheeks burn red, eyes widening as you were caught off-guard. Woozi kicks his leg under the table, “Shut up, Soonyoung. It's her first day, don't harass her already.”

Soonyoung grins at that, muffling his laugh as he continues to tease Woozi.

You think of how Woozi seemed to be close to everyone who worked under him. First the call with Jeonghan, and now play-fighting with his assistant, Soonyoung – as if they were all his siblings or something. Are they? You wonder momentarily, but it doesn't seem so with how different all three of them look.

It was rare for mob bosses to be this friendly with the men under them. You remember your father not even knowing his own personal assistant’s name till two years after she began working with him. Seeing Woozi be all boyish and chummy with his subordinates was a pleasant sight to look at.

Your attention was snatched when your skirt was tugged, a small weight pressured on your thighs as a little hand reached to your plate to grab pieces of fried chicken. You looked to your side to see a young girl, about five years old, stealing the only food you liked from your plate, hoisting herself up by a hand on your skirt.

She looked at you, making eye contact, and stared at you with her big eyes for a few seconds, gasping softly. She quickly took a run, circling behind you to climb and sit on Woozi’s lap, making the latter laugh as she hid her face in his chest. Without realising, you find yourself smile at the adorable sight.

“Jisu-ya!” Woozi mused, putting a hand behind the little girl’s back to steady her on his lap.

Your breath hitched for a second, your smile tightening. You should have thought about this, the idea of your husband having illegitimate kids. It was not hard to think a rich young and handsome man like Woozi would like to go around sleeping with women, some of whom may bore his children willingly or unwillingly. If anything, you were rather surprised that Woozi would let his illegitimate children in his house, letting them run and roam around freely. Most men of his position wouldn't even bother looking at the woman twice after the night.

“Why are you shy now, hm? Weren't so shy when you stole food from my wife, hm?” Woozi mused. He turned to look at you, “sorry, my little thief stole some of your food. Do you want me to get some more for you?”

You shook your head politely, “it's fine. She can have more of it if she likes it.”

You are aware of the young girl's state on you as she tugs Woozi’s shirt. You watch curiously as she whispers something into his ear, making him chuckle.

“Why don't you tell her yourself?”

The girl shakes her head,looking almost petrified as she looked between you and Woozi with big eyes. You almost think you accidentally scared the poor girl or something but then woozi ruffles her hair and looks at you, “Jisu-ya thinks you are very beautiful.”

A smile creeps up your face, cheeks tinting red as you lightly place a hand over your chest, “why, thank you, young lady. You look just gorgeous tonight as well.”

Jisu giggles and beams at you, her shyness thawing at you. You took her effortlessly in your lap when she threw her arms at you. You watch Woozi’s face softening at the interaction. It somehow makes you feel better for some reason. You do not perceive the child coldly as any new wife may be to her husband’s illegitimate children. You do not find it the child’s fault for it anyways, there was no use being harsh to kid who didn’t deserve it.

Jisu steals more treats from your plate and you let her. If anything, it’s getting your plate cleaner, because you wouldn’t have liked leaving leftover on your plate in someone else’s house. Its you house now too, a voice i your head reminds you.

After the dinner is done with, woozi leads you to two women, “they will be your maids to help you around in the house. Follow them, they’ll show you the way to your room.”

You watch your husband leave to talk with more of his men and your chest feels a little heavy. You follow the two ladies – one young, maybe in her late teens, and the other older, old enough to resemble the former’s mother – to your room.

The room is big, a little bigger than yours but only so big a bedroom should get. There is a big bed in the center, made neatly with pink and white sheets and comforters and pillows. Its not decorated the way you have seen wedding beds to be typically decorated for the first night – with white sheets and rose petals and curtains framing around it – but you don’t think too much about it.

“Maam, you may get comfortable and change your dress. The bathroom is from this door, if you would like a bath. I’ll prepare your night clothes and keep them ready by the time you get done,” the older woman says. You feel a bit embarrassed at being called ma’am by someone so much older to you and being given the princess treatment like that. You nodded briefly, before entering the bathroom.

The bathroom was spacious too, you found it easy to take off your dress without needing assistance. You folded it and kept it neatly in what you assumed to be the laundry basket, knowing no better place to keep it. You enter the shower naked, taking little time to washup the day’s tiredness. You don’t bother to take off your makeup with makeup remover as you normally would and instead just scrub soap over your face in the hope of getting it all off quicker.

You hear the bathroom door opening and closing briefly in the shower. You are not afraid of being exposed since the shower walls are frosted and fogged up. When you turn off the shower and get out, you realise it must have been one of the maids, since the laundry basket is gone and a warm fresh-from-drier towel has replaced the older on the counter. You wrap your body in the towel and exit the bathroom, walking into the adjoining closet. You dry your limbs and look at your clothes already having been arranged on the hangers. Its not the way you arrange your clothes, but its not too bad so you dont fuss about it.

You choose to wear a pink silky slip night dress. You don’t know how your husband would take you tonight, but you want to make yourself look presentable enough when he does.

When you walk out of the closet, you see Woozi already sitting on your bed, his back faxing you, scrolling through his phone. At the sound of you, he looks back, smiles. You almost couldn’t believe he was still wearing that mask, even after changing into his own pajamas. Is he going to sleep wearing that?

You coyly make your way to the bed beside him. “Hi,” you say, a little awkwardly.

“Hey, wife,” woozi muses. His eyes flick up and down, taking a peek at your dress before moving his gaze back up to your eyes. “Tell me, do you like the house?”

You’ve barely seen any of it, but you decide to humor your husband, “it's nice.”

“You looked beautiful today, y’know.”

“Thank you, so did you.”

There was a small silence before you decided to speak a bit of your mind, “if you don’t mind me asking … why do you wear that mask all the time?”

“To conceal my face of course,” Woozi says nonchalantly, “if everyone knew how i looked, it would be easy to trap me in some way. This way, I can also be my own person apart from being woozi, a gangster.”

“Oh,” you nod. It did make sense to do so. You wanted to ask him if he’d take his mask off tonight. If he’d ever take off his mask in front of you. Or would you be married with his mask for the rest of your life.

It seemed as if woozi had somehow heard your thoughts, as he continued, “i’ll show my wife my face, of course. Not tonight, not yet. But soon.” he says as he reaches to push your hair away from your face before continuing, “though don;t be so excited about it. You husband is not the most handsome person behind this mask.”

You barely think so, with his eyes and mouth as beautiful. Unless, of course, there is something alienistic about the covered part of his face.

He leans closer to you, and you embrace yourself to be kissed on your lips. Instead, Woozi places a chaste kiss on your cheek, staying there as he whispers, “You must be tired, pretty girl. You should go to sleep, and take some rest.”

He pulls away so fast after that, you barely register it before he has walked out of the room. You feel dumbfounded as you hover your finger over the spot you were kissed on your cheek, feeling some heat creep up your neck.

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a-living-canvas · 2 days

Text

Darling Fool

"Oh, God…" Whumpee silently muttered. Their left ankle was bruised and slightly bleeding. Their bare feet touched the rough surface of the road. They didn't have any jackets, so Whumpee hugged themselves to provide some heat for the cold weather.

But it's all worth it! They would meet Caretaker soon. Caretaker must be proud of them for finally escaping from Whumper. They couldn't wait for the warm blanket, a loving hug from Caretaker, and to sleep in their bed again.

"Huff…huff…" Whumpee leaned on the wall nearby, eyes blurry and heavy. They haven't eaten since they escaped from Whumper. The feeling of hunger slowly got to them. They could smell the delicious aroma of food from the restaurant. The sight made them drooled a little.

Whumpee continued walking. They ignored the weird and judgemental look people glance at them. Their shirt was stained with blood, their hair was messy, knees bleeding. They looked more like a homeless person rather than someone who needed help.

Their eyes perked up when they saw a public restroom. They made their way to the place and looked at their reflection in the mirror. God, they looked awful. Caretaker must be scared to see them like this. Whumpee washed their face, cleaning the dirt and stain on their shirt and skin.

They tried to smile too. It felt awkward at first, given how long it had been since they got kidnapped by Whumper. They hoped they could make the prettiest smile for Caretaker.

Whumpee walked out of the public restroom and continued their way to their house. A few people offered them a ride, but they refused in fear of being taken again. Half an hour passed, Whumpee finally arrived at their house. Excitement building inside them as they took a deep breath and knocked the door three times.

…

Nobody answered. Whumpee knocked again, this time they pressed the doorbell. They waited and waited but nobody came out. Anxiety rushed through them. They knocked a little louder and faster, enough to make the people inside the house feel annoyed with the infuriating sound.

They kept knocking until finally the door opened and Caretaker appeared from behind. Whumpee's eyes perked up at Caretaker, they nearly hugged them out of happiness but stopped themselves from doing so. Caretaker looked at Whumpee with a frown on their face.

"Do I…know you?"

Caretaker asked. Whumpee's face went pale when they realised Caretaker didn't recognise them. Did they look…that different?

"It's…it's me…Whumpee…" Whumpee said, they tried to move closer to Caretaker but Caretaker backed away, their index finger covering their nose. Whumpee immediately stopped walking at the action, feeling embarrassment washed over them.

"Sorry, I don't think you are the person I'm looking for." Caretaker said as they slowly went inside again when Whumpee grabbed their wrist, resulting in Caretaker slapped their face.

"Don't touch me, you creep!"

"Caretaker, it's me! Please! Don't do this to me!" Whumpee pleaded, ignoring the sting feeling on their cheek. They kept clinging to Caretaker but they just pushed them away. Whumpee hugged Caretaker by their waist, holding them tight as tears watering in their eyes.

"Please, please remember me! I'm Whumpee!"

Caretaker sighed in frustration. They looked at Whumpee with a cold gaze. "Nice acting. But just so you know, there's already a few people who pretended to be my Whumpee just to get the money I offer from the missing poster."

"But I'm the real one! I'm not lying!" Whumpee showed their smile to Caretaker, tears rolled down on their cheeks. "Look at me, Caretaker! Don't you remember my smile?" Whumpee asked hopefully. Their smile faded when Caretaker pulled out their wallet and held out a few dollars to them.

"Take this, if you are that desperate for money."

Whumpee pulled away from Caretaker. They swallowed hard as they took in the reality they were facing. Caretaker sighed as Whumpee stayed still like a rock, they put the money on the ground before going inside and closed the door. Whumpee bit their bottom lip, holding the tears in as they watched the money scattered around their bare feet.

They walked away from Caretaker's house, leaving the money untouched.

"Oh, dear…" Whumper said, as they looked down at Whumpee. Whumpee was laying down on the street, hugging themselves tightly to fight the cold. They looked hazy and dazed, probably from starvation. Whumper sighed softly. They crouched down in front of Whumpee and stroked their hair.

"I told you, nobody cares about you anymore except me. Why do you need to be so stubborn, hm?"

Whumper lifted Whumpee in bridal style, carried them gently as they walked to their car.

"I will give you a warm blanket and a hot shower once we get home. Okay?"

Whumpee nodded, resting their head against Whumper's chest. Whumper rubbed their cheeks, frowning in concern.

"They hit you?"

Whumpee didn't answer, they just started crying again. "Hey…hey…shh…don't cry, I'm here with you now." Whumper held them tightly, trying to comfort them as much as they could.

"C-caretaker doesn't remember me anymore…t-they gave me money, b-but I don't want that…!"

"Shh…I know, I know." Whumper looked at Whumpee sympathetically. "Let's take care of your empty stomach first, okay?"

Whumpee nodded, "Okay…"

#whump community #whump writing #whump #whumplr #whump drabble #caretaker #whumpee #whumper #whumper turned caretaker #carewhumper

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fruitcoops · 18 hours

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34 for Coops ;)

(34) “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed." (M-rated)

**Heads-up for reference: any short fic TWs will still be put in this spot per usual, but all other tags and such will go in the tags below :)

Goosebumps flared across Sirius' back and crept down his spine, following the soft touch of Remus' thumb along each vertebra before arcing around his lowest rib. A hand threading through his hair pulled a groan from him; it was quickly muffled in the pinch of Remus' teeth on his lip, and soothed by a brush of tongue.

Lazy, and warm, and held fast by the loop of a leg around his thigh--Remus slipped his palm up under the hem of his shirt and flattened it, pinning Sirius to him with a featherlight touch. Sirius tilted his chin to kiss him deeper and turned any thoughts to a bumblebee buzz at the taste of a soft moan. Something like honey, or caramel. Something as sweet and golden as Remus.

"We should--" Remus broke off with a hitch of breath when Sirius let his lips find a hammering pulse. "We should go upstairs."

His agreeable noise was slightly overshadowed by lilac blooming beneath his teeth.

Remus bent his head and tightened his grip; Sirius buried his harsh exhale in a hungry kiss, met push-for-push and bite-for-bite. Remus smiled when he pressed back into his hand, only to be chased until the mere two inches of distance had closed again and he was drawn back down to brace against the couch cushions. Remus' hip dug into his waist when he let his weight down heavier. A bitten-back noise sent lightning down his neck.

"Upstairs," Sirius managed through numb lips. It came out more of a question.

Remus hummed, kissing him, kissing him, heart pounding where their chests pressed together.

"I could--here?"

"Mm-mm."

With a harsh breath and an enormous burst of willpower, Sirius pulled back enough to rest their foreheads together. Remus tilted up for him again, but Sirius spared two clumsy fingers to press over his dangerous fucking mouth and keep him down.

Inhale, exhale. Sirius brought his head up to speak--one last kiss to Remus' temple--

An utterly mortifying noise spilled out instead of words.

"What?" Remus asked, more of a bwuh? with the light pressure of Sirius' fingertips.

Sirius opened his mouth. Closed it. His throat felt oddly tight, like a dog pulling too hard at their collar. Pale brown eyelashes fluttered on a slow blink, just barely shadowing the freckles that spattered Remus' cheekbones. "You..."

Remus' hair had fallen over his forehead like rumpled bedhead from Sirius' impatient hands and couch static. It was nearly messy enough to cover his eyebrow when it arched. Sirius' stomach swooped hard.

"If you keep looking at me like that, we won't make it to a bed."

A saccharine--no, sly--no, just sweet, just handsome, just playful smile broke free under the pads of his fingers. He felt a kiss press to them, then a flicker of teeth. "Like what?"

Big brown gorgeous cow eyes turned my whole life upside down amber and hazel and a little bit of green around the middle does anyone else know that except me pink cheeks kissing my hand kissing my hand kissing my hand.

"When you--" Sirius heard his throat click when he swallowed. Remus nuzzled at him until his hand fell to the side, then continued pulling wet kisses over the crease of his palm. Sirius wasn't entirely sure when it became so hard to keep his jaw from hanging slack. "When you look at me the way you do."

"I love you."

A funny sort of hmm shook out of him. There was a tug to his waistband, then a broad hand slipping just beneath the edge of the denim. Remus' lips traced the edge of his thumb, slid up the curve of it, and--

Sirius didn't let him get further than taking the tip of it into his mouth before he was moving down again to kiss the laughter off his most favorite person, wicked eyes and wicked mouth be damned.

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #lumosinlove #sweater weather #vaincre #my fic #fanfic #short fic #fluff #kisses

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shrimperini · 3 days

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what are some things that inspired your wheatley design 😲😲 i think he looks absolutely lovely in your artstyle and i would love to know if you had any inspirations for his design (i also may or may not have a crush on him)

thank you!! idk if you mean his human or android design but i’ll explain both :D starting off with his android design, he is the very first one i did for any of the portal charas so every other core design is based off his technically lol (except glados whose design varies quite a bit but yknow, she’s the queen and all). i was inspired by other ppl’s android designs for sure, i knew i wanted to include round glasses (robots wearing glasses is peak character design imo very funny), messy hair, his core on his chest because i love it as a design choice even if it’s the most common one i’ve seen. and his handles are an important part of him so i had to add them somewhere, i had seen some artists out them on his shoulders and i was like YES thats cool. So i did that. and the second handle hanging around his hips/legs because i felt like the lower body of my design was lacking with silhouette elements. as i was playing the game for the first time he immediately striked me as a butler-y type of character?? so his android design has a “classier” look (he started wearing a bowtie after he was assigned the job in the extended relaxation center to. Appear friendlier i guess lmao). Despite loving all the tall android wheat designs i’d see online, I always pictured him as quite short, and since he does call himself ‘tiny little wheatley’ i thought it couldve fit to give him a shorter model than the majority of the other cores.

As for his human design, it evolved quite a bit overtime. i was totally, 100% influenced by all the blonde wheatleys with blue eyes i’ve seen in fanart 😭 i did kinda picture him as a ginger at first, but blonde wheatley absolutely took over LMAO. my first human design of him didn’t satisfy me in the slightest tho so i decided to change it by making him chubby and have more facial hair/body hair in general and i immediately went oh yes, now THIS is a wheatley im happy with lol. i had seen a lot of different interpretations of his human look and i personally love the most when people draw him short and fat so i was like. i NEED to upgrade him. other than that his human design is much simpler than his android one bc i do think he’d look like just Some Guy. Some stressed anxious guy who’s constantly on edge in his work place and has little to no time nor energy to dress up much. Very average office guy. He kinda balances out his android self who is fancier.

so in short, my inspo was other amazing portal fanartists 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 i love yall

#sorry for the yapping. i love talking about him lol

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sappho-favourite-pupil · 1 month

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MDNI

#lesbian #dykeposting #sappho would be proud of me #lgbtqia #my hair are more messy than my personality #me tonight at 3:00 a.m. because i couldn't sleep as always #tw sleep disorder #tw sleep deprivation #luv this outfit tho #also i covered my face with that blob because yeah i'm still delusional #👀💅🏼

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minalots · 1 year

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MORE WOLFWOODS?!!!!?!?!!?????

#wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #tristamp #trimax #here’s some of my personal design notes for them #tristamp ww is more softer/rounder than trimax #his hair is very messy n i just think adding splashes of color and graphics like outlines n halftones to my tristamp doodles makes it seem—#more modern in a way ig??? ya get me???#anyways trimax ww is just. SUPER SHAPED. lots of sharp edges!!! so fun!!!!!#i like to think his hair is usually yknow spiky n compact into its shapes until he gets unhinged to which it slowly becomes disheveled—#and messy and softer. Like if his hair lost its gel that was keeping it together or something. anyways his eyes are normally black until—#he starts feeling extreme emotions so they turn white auaghwwg i just admire nightow’s way of drawing ww he is just !!!!! so cool!!!!!!#ww is just very fun to draw in general im so glad i got into trigun bc of him ehehehejgeeh #i forgot to mention i draw each of them with different brushes to get different textures n stuff idk if it was noticable #da gallery

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illogicalghost · 8 months

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you know what? im hot actually. fuck it. im done with the self loathing bullshit. im hot, and i should start acting like it.

#personal #fuck it!!!!!!!!#teenage self: youre wrong we're actually awesome #im fat and hairy and messy and lumpy and hot.#i think. i RB'd a post recently about this and it finally stuck. like yeah someone out there thinks im the hottest person on earth.#honestly!! it feels so much better. to just flaunt it. ive gotten so much more confident than my horrible teen years #im like. that scene of spongebob yelling im ugly and im proud. because yeah im ugly. but that doesn't mean im not hot #:)#im having a good day today. i felt cute in some short shorts at the grocery store.#my hairs a bit wacky right now bc its transitioning from short to long so i just wore a hat

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rucow · 1 year

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(WIP incoming! beware of very sketchy sketch!!)

i love that my poto brainrot is so severe that i gave one of my ocs a whole new design inspired by the phantom,,, except its light & sun themed instead of Dark and Emo like our favourite sewer skrunkle,,,

#talking about the design for caoimhe's new operatic voicebank 👉👈 the vb is done i just need to finish the art for it !#its super exciting cuz this is THE most androgynous voicebank i have recorded for her thus far 🤯#its only 4 pitches but her two low pitches are So masculine and her two high pitches are so much more feminine im obsessed #(the pitches are E3 D4 G4 and Db5)#she could use an A3 pitch as well but im happy with her for now!!!#her high range is definitely operatic in tone but her low range is more just. solid #i may have stolen the phantom's dress shirt and put it on my own lesbian oc cuz i Love that shirt it scratches my eyes so good #caoimhe is a butch lesbian in general but im SOOO obsessed with her new design she looks so good in her silly gold mask and big boots #i gave her a cape thingy also bc of course i did #her hair is slightly longer than usual here :D shes taller too cuz she has Big Boots on #i sketched this on my phone with my finger pls dont mind the Messiness #myart #caoimhe utau #the pose is very dramatic fjsjdjdd im a dramatic person

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musical-chick-13 · 1 year

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Idk, like on a general level, I like messy female characters who fuck up a lot and even do shitty-to-downright-terrible things because I think it makes them interesting and feel more real, but also having OCD and specifically grappling with The Scrupulosity™ means living with a pervasive fear that I’m Actually A Bad Person and that some inherent evilness within me will eventually overtake me and I will do something heinous that I can never come back from; so seeing female characters who kind of embody that, who HAVE done those things and kind of represent what the realization of that fear might look like, but still being remembered fondly or being seen to have a positive impact on someone’s life, to be presented in-story as still being worthy or love and support and narrative weight, to be presented as someone whose story is still worth telling, TRULY does wonders in helping my recovery process. Even if I DO fuck up (though I’m uh. relatively confident, when I’m not having An Episode™, that I’m not going to do so to that extent), EVEN IF I BECOME THE WORST VERSION OF MYSELF, I still deserve to be treated humanely, I can still get love and support, I can still matter in some way that doesn’t involve ruining someone else’s life. Like that really does help balance out The Intrusive Thoughts in a way that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to fully articulate.

#thinking about my favorite dark-haired anime lady but also this is about cersei and to a lesser extent rebecca #(because I think she's the least ''''bad'''' (in the sense of 'generally objectionable' of those three))#tbh river too. although her messiness is a) more related to the fact that she kills people as opposed to how she carries herself or a #complete lack of self-control/emotional regulation and b) definitely more 'morally grey with some Good™ tendencies' than 'outright horrible'#and lizzie! although she's definitely 'abrasive and messy' and not a bad person at all #once again mc13 screams about her personal relationship to fiction via oversharing when nobody asked

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oatbugs · 2 years

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the reflection of the sun on the windows of the train is casting light in rivers + woods + streams + fields . anyway photons are made of angels .

#the sun glitter from the rim of my glasses and lipgloss and the gold snowflake necklace my mother gave me reflected in the window mixed #with the glints of sun on water . sunwine . everything turns into angels and wine (which is also love which is also blood) again .#the boy with the long hair had his head in a mess that time. took a drag of a cigarette offered by a lovely addict . J with tears in his #voice and too much to drink . i looked him in the lungs with my broken heart and i asked why are you doing this and he took a drag and #took another step . ice cold eye to vodka-blessed eye . sighed the smoke out in my face and smiled .#later it was 3 AM and it was us in a park lying on the floor and talking about everything and nothing and i was studying the writing on his #shirt and the way he blinked more when he laughed . i dragged him away by the elbow (pain inhibited by alcohol but either way his black #belt could stop me and my lousy one year of cranes and bloody knuckles) and i asked him i love you and what the fuck was that and you said #you wouldnt you said you wouldnt . and by the end of that conversation i loved him more than i did before and his hair was tidier and #twice as long . today i gave him a ticket and hugged him goodbye tight enough to almost break his neck.#you and her are the only two i showed my canines to. (i cannot evenly remember the steps are full of glass) ill miss you forever.#even if i see you again. especially if i will see you again. her hand on my back when i dont stand straight the life you have is the life i #lost to messy politics. saturn jupiter confer breaking of the wall in the morning . server of heavens silent wanderers break oh holy light #each time someone ruins our collective lungs ichor i miss the ichor inside malboro gold . pinprick tears when my mother #told me to wait until morning . wait until morning and we can figure this out. otherwise i am on the verge of cold blooded murder.#either i am a horrible person or almost 20 ( both equally sound explanations )#mei with an e ، meaning wine. hate the wine but love the poetry and the angels and what hating the wine means at all.

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cock-holliday · 8 months

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Idk man it’s so easy to get bogged down in all the bullshit online but when my then-6 year old cousin found out I was trans he said “ok” then corrected my grandma when she misgendered me. I was once the third between a gay man and a lesbian. Two lesbians once invited me back to their place when I presented as a man. I met an AMAB nb butch who looked strikingly to outsiders like a cis man and it was one of the more sapphic experiences I’ve had. I nervously wore a boydyke shirt to pride and got 3 different cis-looking femme folks tell me they loved my shirt. I once told a trans group at a protest that any pronouns were fine for me and one person said “wow, I’m impressed and intimidated by people like that. I don’t know that I could be that chill with pronouns.” I once told a GNC friend I wished I could wear a type of “opposite” gender clothing after I had already transitioned and so it would be associated with my AGAB and he said “You could just do it.” I’ve had cishet men fight cops for me before. The first time I had a doctor ask me if my name was different than what was on my forms I had to try not to cry. Last week, a phone call with a doctor’s office where I am generally cis passing asked unprompted if my name listed is what I want to be called. It touched me then too. I told a lesbian friend once I felt like my attraction to men AND women both felt gay. She said “makes sense.” And we moved on. I go by different pronouns in different circles. I’ve had gay women love my facial hair. I’ve had gay men like my tits. It’s all out there, I promise. It can be hard to find it but I promise there is community like you and community who likes you. And it’s more messy and beautiful than tumblr discourse makes it out to be.

#LJsm

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osaemu · 7 months

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GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.

you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too.

as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.

you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.

hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.

you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.

humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.

on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.

you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated.

a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.

you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.

you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.

it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.

satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all.

you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies.

and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.

it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.

"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.

"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone.

satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"

"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."

satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"

you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"

well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so.

"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them.

not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.

"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."

"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—

you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.

satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"

you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."

satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"

it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.

just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.

"you should fuck me."

oh my god.

satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"

you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.

he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.

"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."

"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.

"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."

satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.

"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.

he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.

"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"

when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."

at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from.

it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.

"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.

"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."

and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.

"g-gojo, i can't—"

"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"

"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"

satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.

you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.

as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.

"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."

you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?

"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."

he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"

"wha— why'd you stop?"

satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.

"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."

your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?

"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."

satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes.

"hmph."

satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"

you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"

before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.

"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"

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