Yandere! Lawyer has always seemingly had a vendetta towards you, targeting you with every decision he makes.
He hits where it hurts— financially.
Your confrontation that was supposed to end everything actually resulted in something even worse. You're fired. He's officially halted your long years of tenure, ruining your whole life in one go.
With no income, and a whole lot of unfinished debt to pay to him, you surrender. Hesitation rests heavy on your heart, weighing it down as you swallow the lump in your throat, pushing it down as you press the doorbell to his mansion.
The door opens immediately upon the sound, and he peeks his head out, looking annoyed before he notices it's you.
You grit your teeth in defeat. Losing to him would've never been your option, but alas, it is. In this cruel game of survival, you find yourself in utter humiliation for the sake of living.
"Ready to wave the white flag?" he asks, raising a brow, an evident smirk on his face that you want to rip off with your bare hands.
"Yeah," you answer, sealing the fate for the rest of your life.
"Good," he says, nodding his head towards the inside of his home, gesturing for you to come in without actually muttering it.
And you do.
It's nice, unsurprisingly large in its interior, wooden all over the floor but reeking the scent of luxury all the same. It looked like a house only in those fantasy books you would read.
"So," he sits down, and you sit across from him in the living room. "This means I'm dropping all charges on you and in return, I expect you to serve me."
Serve.
The word echoes in your mind, a negative connotation poisoning it.
"What do you mean?" you ask.
"You'll find out," he says.
"Then, what am I agreeing to?" you ask another question, only making him more irritated than the last.
He rolls his eyes. "To be my partner, forever. I need a wife to impress my family— since they've been pestering me to get married since who knows when."
"Why me?" you continue inquiring.
"You're the perfect image of who they wanted me to be with for the rest of my life," he replies in a matter-of-fact tone, no emotions being close to shown in his voice. Or maybe there's more meaning to his speech than you might think.
That's pathetic. Forcing you to submit to him just to satisfy the wants of his relatives? Sounds absurd.
Though, there's a piece of you that doubts the statement, like he has some other deeper, darker reason.
"Do we have a deal?" he asks this time.
"It's not like I have any other choice," you reply.
He smirks. Wide and proud. "Smart girl," he declares you. "Sign the papers by the time I arrive home," he throws files onto the coffee table that lays between the both of you, a much-needed border.
He's oddly hasty for something that's not going to make much of a difference for him. A little too quick to indenture you to him.
Is it excitement? Trepidation? Or just the breaking point?
Sukuna Ryomen x reader - a morning argument can ruin even Sukuna's entire day. But when he’s irritable, everyone around him bears the brunt of it.
⋆｡°✩ ✩°｡⋆♡ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *⋆｡°✩ ✩°｡⋆♡ ･
The engine roared as the black motorcycle sped down the street, effortlessly weaving between cars. A few minutes later, he stopped in front of a tattoo studio. He took off his helmet, ran a hand through his hair, and walked inside without any rush.
The moment he crossed the threshold, a voice from the reception desk called out:
“Finally. The client has been waiting for almost twenty minutes.”
„I noticed,” he snapped.
The client was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, and his expression made it obvious that any excitement about getting a tattoo had disappeared a long time ago. Sukuna paused for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile.
„My girlfriend held me up. You don’t need any more details.”
It didn’t sound like an apology. More like a statement that the world simply had bad luck and had to wait.
Sukuna placed his helmet on the counter, pulled on a pair of black nitrile gloves, and silently sat down at his workstation.
The client was already lying on the chair, nervously rubbing his forearm.
„So, what is it going to be?” Sukuna asked in a monotone voice.
The man pulled out his phone and showed him the reference image. On the screen was a detailed Chinese dragon, its scales blending into one another while its body curled around the entire arm.
Sukuna looked at the picture for barely a few seconds.
„Stretch out your arm.”
He didn’t need any more explanation. He turned on the tattoo machine. The quiet buzzing immediately filled the room.
The needle touched the skin, and black ink began sinking into the drawn lines. His movements were precise, confident, and completely calm. No matter how bad his mood was, his hand never shook.
But the rest of his behavior was a different story.
„Don’t move!”
The client slightly flinched from the pain. Sukuna let out an annoyed sigh.
„I said don’t move. Or do you want this dragon to look like a snake after a car accident?”
The man immediately froze.
The studio was unusually quiet. Even the other tattoo artists didn’t dare make a single comment today. One look at Sukuna was enough to tell everyone that he was not in the mood for conversation.
Every little thing annoyed him. It bothered him when the client asked too many questions. It bothered him when he moved. It even bothered him how loudly he breathed.
But in reality, his anger had nothing to do with the client.
His thoughts were still stuck on the argument from that morning.
And that annoyed him even more.
When he finished the first part of the tattoo, he turned off the machine, placed it on the table, and removed his gloves without saying a word.
„Break.”
He didn’t wait for a response and walked away.
Smoking was strictly forbidden inside the studio, so he headed toward the wall beside the back entrance. From his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, placed one between his lips, and struck his lighter.
The flame briefly illuminated his face. He took a deep drag and slowly exhaled the smoke into the cold air.
Finally, silence.
But even that wasn’t enough.
His thoughts returned to you again—his “little girlfriend.”
The corner of his lips lifted slightly.
You can only get away with being this stubborn because I allow it.
Sukuna hated when things slipped out of his control. And he hated it even more when someone tried to challenge him.
“Stubborn girl...” he muttered to himself.
He couldn’t deny that your offended expression amused him every time he remembered it.
How would you look if he grabbed your chin, squeezing those adorable cheeks of yours? And when you tried to argue again, he would silence you by pulling you closer, refusing to let you continue.
He took another drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke. *Before I come home, you’ll have enough time to think about whether that argument was really worth it.*
A confident smile settled on his lips.
You’re starting to forget who makes the rules here.
I apologize for the short chapter.😭 I’ve found that I’m releasing the story more frequently in smaller parts. I hope you enjoy it anyway. ❤️
This was chapter 3!
If you haven’t read the previous chapters yet, you can find chapter one and chapter two through the links below, or you can find them on my profile.
Could you elaborate on the kind of game DnD is? Like, what is it ideally supposed to be played as?
Dungeons & Dragons is half-a-dozen different games in a trenchcoat, with relatively little continuity between editions beyond some shared terminology and the presence of a twenty-sided die, so it's tough to make sweeping statements which apply to all versions of the game.
Broadly speaking, however, Dungeons & Dragons in most of its iterations is a genre emulation piece aimed at sword and sorcery fantasy, a specific subgenre of fantasy fiction which had its heyday in American popular culture from roughly the 1930s through the 1980s (and somewhat later elsewhere); Dungeons & Dragons in particular focuses on the 1960s and 1970s strands of sword and sorcery media.
Sometimes described as the creative descendant of Robert Howard's Conan the Barbarian, sword and sorcery revolves around mercenary heroes getting into and out of trouble largely for personal gain, spending most of their time skulking about, breaking and entering, and stabbing people in the back, punctuated by elaborately staged set-piece battles which frequently end with half the party dead. Common features include asshole wizards, whimsically cursed magic items, armour which shows a lot more buttock than is strictly practical, and talkative monsters willing to engage the protagonists in long-winded debates about incredibly stupid shit. It's here that the narrative device of the dungeon crawl – often erroneously characterised as an original invention of tabletop RPGs by folks unversed in the genre – is codified in its modern form.
You don't really see a lot of sword and sorcery fantasy these days, which can be a source of confusion for newcomers to the game, though a surprising amount of modern YA media draws heavy inspiration from the genre. Cartoons like Adventure Time or She-Ra and the Princesses of Power have a lot of sword and sorcery DNA in them.
(D&D is sometimes mistaken for emulating Lord of the Rings style epic fantasy, since that's the only genre of fantasy fiction most casual readers are familiar with, but in practice high fantasy tends to clash badly with a lot of the game's baked-in assumptions.)
Concurrently, Dungeons & Dragons is a game about resource management. Most traditional tabletop RPGs are "challenge games" in the sense that they frame each scenario as a series of set-piece obstacles to be overcome; in D&D, the challenge is one of figuring out how to travel from point A to point B while expending as few resources as possible in the process. If you're coming from a video game background, it has much in common with survival horror games, albeit generally without the overriding fatalism of that genre. This resource management focus is both a legacy of D&D's origins as a fantasy roleplaying add-on for a popular wargame, and a reflection of the specific genre of fantasy it's emulating; sword and sorcery has a lot of tropes in common with survival horror if you know where to look.
(This is something a lot of contemporary groups struggle with; they either mistake the resource management elements for pointless bookkeeping and thoughtlessly discard them, or consciously decide to ignore them because it's not relevant to the kind of story they want their game to tell, then wonder why the system keeps messily falling apart on them!)
Author's Note: Hi Seoulmates! I’m back with Maknae Line version of this. First, I want to thank everyone for the likes, follows, and reblogs from Hyung Line pt. 1! I’m truly appreciative. Pls do enjoy this one, and as always, comments are appreciated 🫶🏾
(Friendly reminder, YOU DON'T HAVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORKS ANYWHERE.)
Boyfriend! Maknae Line × Girlfriend! Reader
Synopsis: Sometimes you are incapable of reading the room. Annoying your bf was an accident. Him insulting you and calling you weird was not.
Content: angst, hurt reader, unresolved conflict, alienation, the guys are mean 😢, implied break ups
Word Count: 6.2k
Pt.2 | Hyung Line
JISUNG— "WHAT'S MINE ISN'T YOURS"
No one can truly ever foresee a volcanic eruption. No, seriously. While there may be monitoring techniques in place, there are still many uncertainties. Why? Because volcanic behavior is unpredictable. There’s too many factors to consider, and various combinations trigger differing reactions. Some meaningful, some pointless. But at least scientists could observe a pattern to understand these volatile characteristics. You on the other hand had no type of data to rely on when it came to your boyfriend's own volatile eruptions.
What started out as a normal day, at least to you, quickly spiraled into a cataclysmic event so wild, you think it would top the Guinness World Record for Largest Recorded Eruption. You had been spending a lot of time with 3racha lately, camping out in the studio with them whenever you could. It was pretty much every fangirl’s dream. And with Jisung being your boyfriend, it was the perfect way to spend time with your man while he worked simultaneously. It was the act of killing two birds with one stone. Which had happened often, and surprisingly lasted this long.
Except today, Jisung was a lot more erratic than usual, leg bouncing with a bout of anxiety. His body was jittery, nail biting ensuing with his mind all over the place. He was distracted and frustrated with his lack of progress. That was understandable. You suppose that it also didn’t help how much you were chatting with Chan and Changbin either, throwing around jokes and playful insults.
But that was the dynamic that had been set when you started coming around. When you first got with Jisung, you’d initially been much too intimidated to even hold a conversation with his members because they seemed so otherworldly in their superstardom. But your boyfriend assured you that was not the case and even encouraged your interactions with them. So why on earth would he be making a fuss now?
That’s what you ask yourself when he addresses you so rudely.
“What do you think you’re doing right now?” Jisung’s harsh voice rips through the studio icily. Both Changbin and Chan freeze, mid jeer, at his words as you work to process what he just said to you.
“What?” You whisper with confusion. He turns slowly in his seat, eyes squinted in a way that would be menacing if his cheeks weren’t such a cute distraction.
“I asked what you think you’re doing right now distracting my members.” The air gets more tense as he repeats what was said prior. Silence encases the room as both men look between the two of you apprehensively. Oh, he was serious.
“I’m very confused right now.” You mumble honestly. Everything had been fine thirty minutes prior. Of course his shift in demeanor was now causing confusion. A hollow chuckle escapes the lips of the man you love.
“That’s not surprising when you clearly don’t know how to read the room.” Okay, ouch. What the fuck? The other two members of the producing unit seem to have the same sentiments by the way eyebrows raise and mouths drop. Jisung has never talked to you like this before.
“Mate, maybe you should calm—” Jisung cuts Chan off before he can even think about finishing the sentence.
“Hyung, I know you like being nice and all, but you don’t have to continue humoring her in this situation.”
Your brows furrow at the statement. And what the hell did that mean?
Changbin chimes in next. “Jisung-ah, think about what you’re saying very carefully and cool it.”
But you are having none of it, pissed off and eager to know just what the hell your boyfriend was talking about. “No. Let him. He clearly has something he wants to get off of his chest, let him keep running his mouth and dig himself a deeper hole.”
A smirk graces his face as he chuckles. “You know, sometimes, it really pisses me off.”
“Jisung—” Chan again. But neither one of you is listening in this showdown of sorts that your man has put you in.
“If there’s something you want to say to me then speak clearly, before you really set me off.”
“Set you off? You’re one to talk. You’ve been pissing me off for days, weeks even. You come prancing in here while we are in the middle of a studio session and run your mouth ten miles per minute. You keep texting my members— Chan, Changbin, and Minho allll the time like they owe you a response. As if we aren’t maxed out from busy schedules. You talk their ears off consistently whenever you are in our space. And have the nerve to demand more time of them, of me while we work. I understand if your job isn’t fulfilling, but this is my life. And some of us work hard to achieve our dreams. Stop blowing up my members' phones, stop talking their ears off, and stop wasting everyone’s time. It’s weird.”
You simmer with rage and something akin to heartbreak at the vitriol Jisung utters at you. Swallowing thickly, you watch as Jisung’s chest heaves with the weight of his words finally being lifted from his shoulders.
“What’s weird about making conversation with your members, Jisung?” You question tentatively, trying your hardest not to cry or cuss him out.
He stares in silence before mumbling his truth. “What’s mine isn’t yours. Stop it.”
And there it is. The root of his little rage monster. “Are you… saying my interactions with your members are weird because you have a sharing problem?” You would definitely not hold back on hitting Jisung where it hurt. Afterall, he hardly cared about the words he threw at you. You can tell it gets to him by the way he flinches.
“I don’t have a sharing problem, I have a girlfriend problem. And she seems to think that my friends are her friends, that my life is her life. It is not. And I would appreciate it if you learned your place from now on.”
The silence is overwhelming as you work to process the painful slap of humiliation Jisung has dealt you. ‘Learn your place from now on.’ Oh, he didn’t have to worry about that. You certainly had learnt exactly where you stand if this conversation is anything to go by. Standing carefully, you grab your items in silence, removing any and all traces of yourself from his space. And very soon, his life.
“Don’t worry Jisung. I promise it won’t happen again.” Smiling bitterly, you make your way to the door and exit just as a round of questioning begins for him.
“Jisung, what the fuck?”
FELIX— "BUTTERFLY IN MY STOMACH"
In your entire time of knowing him, Felix had always been a social butterfly. You’d grown up together and fallen in love in that early 2000s rom com sort of way. Best friends to lovers as goes the trope. You both wore it very well, skirting around the crush you both harbored for one another for ages. Meeting in primary school had been interesting, with him leaning across the aisle towards your desk asking if he can borrow your sparkly, pink pen. It was his favorite color evidently. Enamored by his kind smile and freckly face, you agree. That’s how you both sparked a friendship spanning two, long decades. He had been stuck to your hip ever since, claiming that you had the best craft supplies in the whole school. Because of that, he’d share all his strawberry milks with you. Citing it as a reward for your kind behavior. Strawberry milk was his favorite treat by the way, and you were totally lucky for him to give it to you. He didn’t just give it up for anyone. His words, not yours.
Anyway, that had been that. And somewhere between year 9 and year 12, you’d developed romantic feelings for him. But your first kiss would not be shared until the day he left to go join a boyband. That had been crazy, sparking a whirlwind of emotions when he ran away from you that night at the playground, before catching the early morning flight to his destiny. He had blocked you after that, too embarrassed to know he had poured his heart out like a desperate loser and stolen your first kiss even more pathetically. This had devastated you of course, considering you had liked him all this time, but he was so pig-headedly stubborn that he threw all caution to the wind and disappeared like a wimp.
So then there had been a three year stint where you didn’t speak to one another. Until he came home to surprise his family while on break. And ohhhh were words had between you two when your mother had told you that she found out from Mrs. Lee herself at the grocery store that Felix was back. You all but buried him six feet under at the way he had left you like that. But all things had been smoothed over and sealed with a kiss once feelings were hashed out.
That had been several years ago, and Felix’s social nature had increased significantly since then. Becoming the brand ambassador for several major brands, he’d often attend events with you by his side. Toting you around, showing you off proudly like the hottest thing since sliced bread. It made you feel confident, made you feel warm.
And Felix always went out of his way to show appreciation to you for tagging along. Most of the time it looked like buying you expensive, new outfits to be worn at said events. You wouldn’t even have to say anything. You’d simply come home and there would be a pretty, decorated box on the bed with a card attached to it reading, “Wear me.” Then your man would come to scoop you up and escort you in your ‘carriage for the night.’
It was like clockwork, a routine that never got old or boring. And that’s what you expected today as well, having been excited all day to attend a brand new Louis Vuitton store opening. You’d gone home, freshened up and everything, even indulged in a glass of wine before Felix had gotten there. All without paying too much mind that your boyfriend had not prepared a special gift for you in your bed like he typically would.
That was fine. No biggie, right? That’s what you tell yourself when a knock sounds at your door. Padding across the floor, the beaming smile on your face drops a fraction at the slight look of irritation on your boyfriend’s face. He steps inside your apartment as you further open the door.
“Lix, everything alright?” You try not to notice the absence of a decorative box in his hand. In the back of your mind you wonder where your outfit is.
He wrings his hands as he paces about. Something evidently is wrong. “Babe,” you call tentatively. “What is it? Where are my clothes for tonight? Did something happen?”
He takes a sharp, deep breath before regarding you with a guarded look. Oh, that was odd. What was he looking at you like that for? “It wasn’t prepared.”
Immediately, your face scrunches at the admission. “Okay… but why? Did someone make a mistake? Is that why you look a bit upset? If I had known something had happened last minute, then I would have found something myself. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” You rush across the space back into your bedroom to pilfer through your closet. Time was quickly winding down. While you didn’t want to look thrown away, you had to try to find the best thing to settle for. But Felix immediately puts a damper to your otherwise jovial nature when he hits you with several words that crush your spirit.
“No, Y/N. You don’t understand. It wasn’t prepared because I didn’t request it.” Then he mumbles the other part low. “On purpose.”
You step back out of your closet to come face to face with him, head bowed and hands in pockets.
“Oh.” you whisper quietly between the two of you. “Why?”
He fixes you with a forlorn, yet strange look. “Do you ever think about how weird it is how much we’re together?”
That… throws you for a loop, head rearing back with confusion at the question. Not sure how to answer, you settle for the truth. “No?” It comes off more of a question than an answer.
He sighs before sitting on your bed. “I do. I mean, come on Y/N. We’ve been attached at the hip since we were kids, and even more so in the time that we’ve been dating.” Butterflies settle in your stomach at where he is going with this. And not the good kind. “Like, don’t get me wrong. It’s fun but… sometimes you have a tendency to try too hard to fit in when I’m networking.” He closes his eyes briefly as he says it. Like he’s finally admitted to something bouncing around in his mind, causing a racquet for days.
You stand in the middle of your room unsure of what to do with yourself. Your chest feels tight with disbelief. Wrapping your arms around yourself vulnerably, you seek first to understand what is actually happening. “Felix, what exactly brought this on?”
“The last brand event. Manager-nim said he noticed how much you tried to be included in photos every time someone wanted to take a picture with me. He found the situation odd and thought I needed to draw a line in the sand to make sure you understand that I am the celebrity, not you.”
Your mind is boggled at what he relays to you, wondering how on earth he let his manager talk about you like that, unless… he agreed.
“So, let me get this straight. There seems to be a supposed issue with me attending brand events with you because I have a “knack for trying too hard to be included in photos,” as your manager put it so fucking eloquently when speaking about me. Which you just let him by the way. And your solution was to… what? Revoke the invitation you extended to me, last minute, and come into my apartment with your bad juju ruining my night?”
He looks crestfallen at your assessment. “Baby—”
You don’t give him an opportunity to respond, taking several steps back before he can reach out to touch you. Surprised eyes meet yours across the space of your room. “No, absolutely not. You do not get to call me that right now. Actually, I’m debating if you get to call me that period after what you just told me.”
“Y/N—”
“Save it. You have an event to attend and millions of people to perform for. Go do it since you take orders from others so well.” You snap sarcastically. A beat passes between you before he turns on his feet, making his way out of your room. Crossing the threshold to your living room, you watch as he opens the front door before turning to look at you with those sad, puppy eyes.
“Can I just—”
“Out.” You point back towards the entrance. His shoulders sag with dejection as he walks out the door.
“Good riddance.” You mumble, slamming the door. Sliding down the hard surface you finally unleash the tears you had been willing away.
What a shitty night.
SEUNGMIN— "COPING MECHANISM”
Nervousness ran through your system the same way blood ran through your veins. It was normal for you to navigate life with a sense of anxiety looming behind you, crippling any confidence you could have in yourself. Seungmin, your boyfriend, knew this, doing his due diligence of playing the role of knight in shining armor for his damsel in distress.
He liked feeling needed this way, often expressing his fondness for your cute codependent demeanor. So, to humor him, you clinged onto him at home and in public. It was part of the routine, a mandatory unspoken drill between the two of you. Except, what is a normal occurrence in the space you share together becomes a topic of concern at the dinner table one night.
A few of the guys had gone out for a midnight snack, their youngest needing a reprieve from the stress of a busy schedule. So, like good hyungs, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Lee Know had gone. That gathering had included you too by default, Jeongin extending the invite to you as well via Seungmin. So you figure, why not? He is your boyfriend after all, and his members seem to enjoy your presence most of the time. You had had a rough day too, so going out for a late night social gathering would do well to clear your mind. This shouldn’t have been an issue. But somehow, Seungmin decided to make it one.
It started out as light banter, him poking at how you clung to his arm throughout the entirety of the walk there. “Seriously babe,” he chuckles. “You’ve been hanging off my arm the whole way. I’m gonna need it to eat you know.” Okay, that had made sense in the moment when he said it. You were clinging to his dominant hand. It really would be hard for him to eat.
Nervously, you chuckle before giving him a bit of space, hovering just within arms length range of him to ground yourself when needed. You were feeling a bit antsy, picking at the skin of your lip and bobbing your knee with the rampant energy raking through your nervous system.
You had been bothered by something a colleague at work had said earlier in the day, not getting an opportunity to divulge it to your boyfriend yet as he had only just come in from a long day before you both turned around for this late night excursion. The individual in question at work had made a disparaging comment about how you were too soft spoken and shy that it almost came across as needy the way people had to speak up for you. It made you freeze in the moment it was said to you, caught like a deer in headlights wondering what to do. The person had scoffed at you right then and there when you couldn’t produce a good enough answer for them, muttering under their breath about how dependent you were.
The words had put you on edge, stunning you enough to retreat from your cubicle and into the nearest bathroom stall to cry your eyes out at how cruel some people could be. Coming home was supposed to be relieving. You were supposed to fall into Seungmin’s arms and let him don the cape of your savior, uttering endearing words of encouragement into your ear until you could feel better. That, however, was not the case.
The next offense was reaching for his hand underneath the table. You were just… feeling dejected about the earlier course of events, that person’s harsh rhetoric playing on repeat in your head. It didn’t help that Jeongin exacerbated the issue whilst complaining about his own grievances with the company. It amps up your anxiety, causing you to look around for a boogeyman that wasn’t there as you all huddle around a table in the back of a hole-in-the-wall joint. When you reach for his hand, extending your pinky a fraction to lock with his, he jolts back like he had been branded. Everyone turning startled eyes towards you watch as a slight frown makes its way onto Seungmin’s face. He was locked in to whatever Jeongin was saying and felt like you were distracting him from being a good friend.
“Y/N, come on. I’m tryna focus here but your neediness is kinda getting in the way.” He laughs a little at his words. Jeongin and Hyunjin chuckle too, thinking this is the regular banter between you two. But Minho, he is silent, observing the way your hand shakes a little as you retract it from him.
“Sorry Minnie. You know how I get.”
“Yes, we all know how you get.” He emphasizes it like there’s an inside joke there, like you’re exasperating in your need for his affection. Your hands clam up at this, already suffering one misunderstanding at work and not trying to bring one here.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You whisper quietly. He just pats you lightly over the head, consoling you like you don’t know any better.
“Don’t worry your pretty, little head. You can’t help the way you are.”
By now, Hyunjin’s eyebrows have raised a fraction. Minho even stops eating, pausing the raise of his chopsticks mid air as he stares at his band member. Jeongin doesn’t even register anything is happening, instead nestling his glass of soju in hand. Your heart is hammering away at what appears to be a confrontation on the horizon. “Seungmin, what does that mean?” You ask once again.
He disregards you, instead, turning to his members who seem just as perplexed as you are at the turn of events. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just funny how you practically can’t breathe without me if I’m not in a general radius of you, or if you aren’t touching me in some capacity.” He catches Minho’s eye, who looks to be holding back a grimace. “Did you guys know that she really cannot function without me? Like, she gets all weird about it if she’s not cooped up under me. Even at home, she has to have her foot touching my leg to even feel comfortable enough in her sleep. It’s kinda weird if you think about it honestly.”
Your blood runs cold at the words, heart stuttering with an ache you didn’t know could exist with him. He called you needy, codependent, and weird all in the span of the short time you had seen him today. Always heralding himself as some knight in shiny armor catering to his damsel in distress, now sits a young man who is no better than the person at your job. It’s an insult and backstab all the same. It’s how you cope. You can’t help it. Seungmin knows this, relishes in it. So, what is going on? Why is he being so mean?
“It’s just how I cope Seungmin,” you mumble sadly. “I’m not trying to make it weird.” Across from you, Hyunjin’s lip juts out a bit at the desperation you reek of. Seungmin, ever the vibe killer, doesn't exhibit that same pity.
“Well, can you find another way to cope?” He remarks with a dry huff of laughter. He’s joking… you think. But it is insensitive nonetheless. It’s not like he knows you’ve had a terrible day, spirit crushed with the same rhetoric as a colleague. Doesn’t make it hurt any less. You nod your head silently at the sting of rejection. At this point, Jeongin has enough wherewithal to smile at you pityingly. For the remainder of that late night rendezvous, you sit in desolate silence, aching and yearning for the one person who cannot console you in the wake of your heartbreak. Because he was the one who broke that trust in the first place.
Sadly, you can’t help but start to internalize all the rude words thrown at you today as truth. You were annoying. You did depend on Seungmin a lot. You hardly ever stood up for yourself. You were needy like a fucking whiny baby. God, you were… hopeless. And everyone around you knew it but you. What a joke you must’ve been. You swallow your pain with what little pride you have left and tuck metaphoric tail to the furthest place in your mind you can dissociate to. Licking wounds was not easy. Seeing Seungmin’s face daily, as the cause of some of those wounds, made it no better.
All it takes is two days. Two days for him to ask you what is wrong, and two days to contemplate a life changing decision that would alter the course of trajectory where you had previously been hovering. Misery may love company, but you are about to excuse yourself as its guest. Because you would rather leave than to stay and make this man supposedly as miserable as he proclaimed.
Mulling over your options at breakfast, Seungmin analyzes you. He hadn’t had physical contact with you since the midnight tryst. In fact, you hadn’t even paid him any mind at all now that he thinks about it. Instead, offering non-comital hums and head nods in the ambiance of silence. It… concerns him a bit, at the way you have locked yourself away somewhere in your mind. And he is regretful to know he no longer holds the key to enter.
“You’ve been quiet lately, distant.” He mumbles over his coffee.
“Just got a lot on my mind.” You reply robotically. Almost as if you had teleprompter level responses queued up to ward him off. He huffs a bit at the distance between you both even at the table.
“What could be so important that you hardly have anything to say?” You could tell he is trying to dispel the weird energy in the air by joking. But it doesn’t quite land the way he wants it to. And you are oh so tired of not being brave, of not learning to stand on your own two feet enough to say—
“I think we should break up.” The words spill from your mouth like word vomit as your soul finally gives way to the dam of emotions swelling within you. It is like being awarded the sweet liberty of release the way you say it. But to Seungmin, it is agony.
“What?” All color drains from his face. He couldn’t have heard you right. Surely his sweet, kind, soft-spoken girlfriend didn’t just suggest a separation. There was no way.
But you are unyielding now that you have gained your bearings, and you are not relinquishing this foothold you have created for yourself. This was no longer a mountain standing tall above you, unwilling to be moved. This situation was simply a molehill, one you could move around and write a proverb about. Fixing yourself with a steely resolve, you stare into the face of the man you once loved, still do, and utter words that cannot undergo a surgical procedure of ‘takesies backsies.’
“Let’s break up.”
JEONGIN— "OLD HABITS"
Securing a job at JYP as a stylist had been a dream come true. Working permanently with Stray Kids had been more like a fairytale. Especially when you started dating their youngest. It had all been professional on your end, really. You had kept your head down, minded your business, and did what needed to be done. But somehow, Jeongin had taken a liking to you. He would linger after being styled, hover just at the edge of your vision so that he could somehow be in your line of sight at all times. He would make prolonged eye contact, smiling cheekily when you would get flustered. And the hand contact? That had been an entirely other beast in and of itself.
Anytime you needed something or forgot an item in the space of the dressing room, he’d rush to get it for you. Eager to please. And he would make sure your finders brushed against each other no matter how you placed them. Naturally, you had chalked it up to delusion, or sleep deprivation. There was no way the maknae of this international powerhouse had a romantic… inclination towards you. The thought alone made you feel like delulu was not the solulu and that you were simply making everything up.
However, that thought process had been derailed when Jeongin had practically cornered you in an empty room one day with a furrow to his brow, and pout on his face, asking if you were genuinely oblivious to his advances, or simply ignoring them. You would really like to claim you had been strong-willed here, fighting off whatever conflicting feelings you had for him as he was technically your superior. But alas, that had not been the case when he pushed you up against the wall with a soft spoken “Noona,” on his lips. Dare you say it, you were hooked.
From that point forward, you stuck together like peanut butter and jelly. Doing what couples do. You played your part as the dutiful girlfriend so well, taking to bringing your boyfriend the occasional lunch or snack in between breaks. You couldn’t help the need to want to take care of him. Especially as a slightly older woman. He’d relish in the spotlight. Preening at the extra attentiveness you showed him as a form of affection.
It had never been a problem before. Until Jeongin decided it was one. Lately, he had been snippy with the prospect of appearing more manly as he matured with age. There was nothing wrong with it, hardly a big deal. You liked seeing the side of him that matched the muscular growth he had put on. Evidently though, he had silently begun seeing your constant “mother hen” tendencies as a problem. He hadn’t even explicitly said it to you. That’s what hurt the most.
You had happened upon a conversation in the practice room while you were stopping by. The intent was to share the snacks you had brought for Jeongin. Instead, you are met with hostility as you overhear what Jeongin has to say about your ‘habit.’
“It’s just, the constant need to pander to me and treat me like a baby is excessive and weird. I mean— she comes here nearly every day dropping off treats and meals with that strange, soft voice reserved for babies. Like I’m not a man. It’s just odd… and really messes with my image.” You can hear the frustration in his voice as he discloses his grievance against you to whoever is in the room.
“I mean… I suppose I get it.” A deep voice speaks tentatively. Ah, Felix. “But, Noona is really nice and she just wants to take care of you. Ya know?”
You are somewhat thankful to know that the Australian male can be the voice of reason at a moment like this. It helped soothe your aching heart at feeling slight discomfort and shame at your boyfriend bashing you like this. Albeit, you aren’t supposed to hear the words. Doesn’t mean it stings any less.
Just then, a snort rings out. “Right.” The voice drawls sarcastically. And that would be Seungmin. Of course it is. “She treats him like a toddler who’s still in pre-school. Little Ayen-ah never stood a chance. It’s cute.” The other chuckles teasingly. You know Seungmin means well, but this is not helping.
A huff of annoyance forces its way through Jeongin’s nose. “Can you be serious for once? I’m expressing a thing that irritates me and you’re joking about something that’s becoming increasingly weird.”
Silence follows his words. “Jeongin, I don’t think Seungmin meant it like that. And I think Y/N means well too. I’d actually be pretty flattered if my girlfriend took the time to stop by everyday and deliver food for me. Try not to think so hard about it. Otherwise, you might ruin a good thing.” Hyunjin, what a level-headed thinker. Perhaps he was the one who deserved your treats.
“What do you know?” Your boyfriend grunts. And that had been that. You simply turned around and went about your day, not keen to disturb him. If he noticed you did not follow your routine for the day, he simply didn’t mention it. Probably stewing in his ire still.
That’s how you ended up here two weeks later. You had stopped bringing snacks completely. Instead, strictly adhering to your duties. In your petulant stupor, you create distance between you and Jeongin as a means to remain professional. It hurts your heart to do this, sometimes compelled to reach out and pinch his cheek, or brush a strand of hair from his face. But you refrain, instead, reverting to as you were in your pre-dating era. You keep yourself busy, always working. And it probably wasn’t noticeable at first since everyone was working diligently for the comeback. But of course, there is always someone who pays attention to detail. And that person happened to be Hyunjin, the man who is more observant than he appears.
“Hey,” he asked while you pinned a shirt to make it more fitting for his lean frame. “Why haven’t you been around lately? I missed your snacks so much!” He whines dramatically.
You simply roll your eyes at the playful behavior. Several ears perk up at this, also curious to know what you had been doing with your time. “I just didn’t feel like doing it anymore.” You simply state.
Hyunjin pauses a fraction at your nonchalance to routine behavior. Across the room, Jeongin stills too. Color him surprised that you dignified that with a response. But also, don’t. Because he’s your boyfriend and he totally isn’t stupid despite looking like his head is full of air. He had noticed the distance growing between the two of you, especially during the times where he would request to spend more time with you. He clocked it immediately when you stopped showing up with the snacks and lunchboxes. And okay, sue him if he pouted a little. Your food was always excellent and despite wanting to appear more manly, he can’t help that he folds way too easily when it comes to you. Which is how he got in this situation in the first place, little does he know. But anyway, any time he demanded your presence recently, you would decline with some type of excuse. Yes, it’s comeback season. But what the fuck? Can a man not spend time with his woman? These are all the thoughts that run through his head the moment you answer.
So, what does any boyfriend do when he would like an explanation for why his girlfriend is being weird? Well, he corners them. Which is exactly what Jeongin does. Which… probably makes matters worse, because why the fuck is he starting an argument with you?
“Noona,” he questions, pressing close to you with a childish pout. “How come you’ve been ignoring me?”
You sigh disinterestedly as you navigate around him. Picking up clothing items and shoving them onto hangers aggressively, you respond. “I’m not. Just been busy.”
He shuffles over to you with a disbelieving face. “That’s what you said yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and—”
“I get it, Jeongin.” You cut him off before he can get himself worked up. But your response pissed him off further than he realized it would.
“Oh, so you realize you’ve been neglecting me? Glad to know my girlfriend hates me.”
“You are so dramatic.” You growl in frustration.
“Yeah, and you’re fucking rude ignoring me like that in front of my members. It was embarrassing.”
Rolling your eyes, you continue cleaning up, not phased by this temper tantrum he’s throwing. For someone claiming to be manly, he sure doesn’t act mature. “Sure, because that’s the most embarrassing component of your life lately.” Your words are laced with sarcasm, bitter at knowing what he thought of you, mind going back to the rude words he had divulged to his members.
Coming to a stop in front of you, he takes the hangers in your hand and tosses them onto the couch. “Jeongin.” You rebuke, but he is forcing you against one of the makeup tables, eyes locked into your own.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t worry about it.” You mutter, trying to push away.
He forces you back immediately. “No, absolutely not. You’ve been distant for the past few weeks, and you’re so fucking mean for ignoring me. Now you won’t even tell me what’s wrong when I give you attention? Why can’t you just talk to me since you seem to have an issue?”
Ohhhh, Yang Jeongin was on extremely thin ice talking to you like that. Deciding to definitely not be the bigger person (you had pride and ego too ya know,) you give him tit for tat. Leveling him with a sharp gaze, you smirk meanly up at him. He analyzes your face and realizes you are devoid of the affection you typically possess when speaking to him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t gulp a little. You’re intimidating when you want to be.
Icily, you reply to him in a way you know is a dose of his own medicine. “Why though? Isn’t it weird how clingy you're being with me?”
He stills at the line of questioning, face drastically losing color at the words you speak. That’s how you know he understands the exact connotation behind the statement. You nod your head slowly at the recognition that flits across his face at where you derived that expression from.
“You should really be careful what you wish for, Jeongin. You never know who might be listening to grant your wish.” Then you saunter out of the room as if you hadn’t pulled the proverbial rug from underneath him.
P.S. if there’s any typos, I typed this at work 😭. I’ll edit later. Hope you enjoyed!
SPECIAL THANKS TO @gangplanksorenji FOR THE COLLAB, I LOVE YOU. They are truly awesome and oh my lordy, Yena is life. And an honourable mention to @bunnsfw for the help with a transition.
Work is a bitch, definitely.
There's a boat load of reports– they climb your desk and everyone elses, sometimes you walk in and consider jumping out the window in an any% suicide speedrun. Those sleep deprived nights and coffee fueled days all become worth it at the end.
And by end, you obviously mean in the middle of the work day. Where you and your favourite co-worker find an opportunity to have a break, hiding in whatever unoccupied space you two can find. It’s been an established thing for a while now, you and Yena had a moment in the bi-annual ‘please stay with us party’ with some non-alcoholic beverage that was spiked with something certainly alcoholic. It motivated her to make a bold decision, a kiss and a blur.
She ended up in your bed that night.
Things shifted from that point, Yena got braver. She’s never explicitly stated if she likes you or she just likes to please, she doesn’t tell and you don’t pry.
Today's private space of choice is the janitor's closet, small and devoid of people. It’s dimly lit and reeks of bleach but it does get the job done.
She's all giggly when she descends to the floor, her presence forces you against the door. It's locked, you quadruple checked. "Have you done any of your papers yet?" she asks, fiddling with your zip.
You sigh, the answer is yes because you got here early– get home at 11pm, get there just before dawn and haul ass. "Barely, feels like the pile hasn't budged."
"That's because it hasn't." She states, your office trousers sit in a pile by your feet. Yena gives you that same excited, slightly needy look. It's her that started this and her who continues it. She has an oral fixation that she always tries to keep satiated. From the lollipops she crams in her desk, to the straws she has for every drink.
To the cock currently in her hand.
"Work's a bitch." You groan, partly because of the statement and partly because she's dribbling over your tip. Her soft hand stroking it with twisty motions. It feels incredible, looks incredible. Her office outfit, the blazer mainly– she looks so professional and so ruinable.
"Tell me about it, we only have 5 minutes if we get coffee."
"How much time if we don't?"
"We're getting coffee." Yena wastes no further time, her hungry expression being satisfied when your tip slides in between her lips. She doesn't have time to be slow, your cock is already hitting the back of her throat. She sucks and slurps, getting you messy. Your hands claw at the wall despite wanting to ruin her hair, not enough time to fix it.
"F-fuck." It's suffocatingly warm, half trapped in her slick mouth and the other half being squeezed and pumped. She moves quickly, thoughts of work and the timer disappear and crumble to dust when Yena bobs her head up and down.
Yena hollows her cheeks, a tandem act with her fingers. You moan and struggle, Yena sucks faster at your sounds. "You really want this coffee huh?"
She doesn’t laugh but instead keeps her lips firmly around your length. She was desperate for you to cum, her other hand reaching to massage your balls. Yena takes advantage of the overwhelming stimulation, your coworker knows exactly when you are about to cum. No need to vocalise it here at least, under different circumstances she wants to hear it.
Right now she wants you to cum and not get caught.
So she braces herself, working just a bit harder. Closing her eyes as you begin to throb, the orgasm hits you like a truck. Body locking up stiff as Yena's mouth gets filled with your pent up load, the stuff you've been holding while far too busy to even make five minutes. She's a professional in everything though, taking it without so much as a struggle.
When she's done, she gets off her knees. Unable to resist the urge to kiss you so you can taste how well a job she did. "I didn't get any on my outfit right?"
The excuse is pretty obvious, she twirls around and despite the fact most of her body is clad in office attire that leaves practically everything for the imagination she's still the hottest woman ever conceived. If you had the time she’d have her bottom half removed and you’d go to town, alas, the minutes are up so you'll have to settle for the imagination and the opportunity to touch her before saying a simple no.
"Good, it's annoying to wash out at a sink. Time for coffee!" She's swapped back to her normal bubbly office mode, the one that would make nobody suspect she just blew someone inside the janitor's closet. She leaves first and you wait thirty seconds before promptly following.
The office floor feels the same as before you left, unsurprising given your break was painfully short. It’s loud with its standard fluorescent hospital lights.Yena’s already back at her desk, looking like she’s been there for hours. She’s got her blazer back on, another lollipop and she’s typing up a storm with the focus of a girl who definitely did not just have her throat full in the janitor's closet.
And the coffee was the last remotely enjoyable part before you two had to lock in. Even though you work right next to each other most of the time there was no room to have a conversation, first off– your boss seemed hellbent to put a knife to the atmosphere, make sure no joy was happening on her dime.
Then there was just all of the work, you could take a building, double it then double that and still you'd probably run out of room. It's not just the quantity or even the quality you have to produce, it's just so fucking boring. This should be illegal, how repetitive this is. Money talks and you can't pay rent on your desires to abolish the concept of reports.
So, you get it done.
With a few shushed conversations in between, words may not be banned but are sure heavily discouraged. "So... why do you think our boss is always so uptight?" You ask with your head still buried in work, "I swear she wasn't like this."
"She wasn't. It's a stressful time with everything going on. Her bonus relies on us doing well." Yena replies, scribbling something. "Perhaps she should try a similar arrangement to ours, lots of co-workers call her smoking fucking hot."
"You agree though, I see the way you stare at her tits in that shirt.” You jab, it’s no secret. Yena becomes a cartoon with outstretched eyes whenever your boss bends over. “Imagine that, maybe we wouldn't be whispering."
“Shhh… it’s not so obvious right?”
“Super fucking obvious.”
And you two continued until dinner time, where you two finally got another break. Not to fuck, you two aren’t that depraved. Grabbing a quick bite to gossip over before walking yourself back into hell. Or perhaps purgatory would be more apt, hell implies active torture.
Post-dinner quickly became a deep night. The tapping of office equipment slowly disappeared, people vanished and the AC shuts off. Past the time they are willing to pay for, everyone has left. Except for you and Yena, it’s sort of your obligation to work to the bone.
Yena had taken off her blazer and had it donned over her chair. Sipping on another coffee, caffeine is her lifeblood at this point. The lack of focus was clear as day, she's twiddling with her thumbs, radiating ennui and spending more time stargazing than anything else.
"We could just go home." You say bluntly, the only reason you are here is for her and the inverse seems true. "It's a big enough dent."
She stretches and looks at you like you suggested something royally ridiculous. "No way, but we can stop working."
It's your turn to look weird.
"Think about it, we're on the clock sure. But who's going to know what we are up to?" She gets off her chair, 'towering' over you with a playful smirk on her face. "Exactly, you already get the picture."
"So you want to get paid to suck dick?"
"Wouldn't be the first time…"
"what?"
"what?"
You don't know how to transition from that, Yena leans forward and gives you one lone peck on the lips. Letting the taste of coffee on her breath hit yours, it's palatable when it's her. It lasts awhile, no longer being rushed to work and able to enjoy the moment.
Yena pulls away, dropping herself to one knee. Her hands are eager even with the given time. "Mmh, I was thinking about this. Five minutes was not enough." All barriers to the cock she wanted were gone. "Bet you were thinking about it more though."
"Only work." You lie, it gets a pout and her hand dry pumps your shaft. You relax into your chair, this is stress relief you plan to enjoy.
"Meanie." Her hand is replaced with her tongue, she eyes your cock like a prize– a snack that's been hidden away. She licks upwards one side of your length at a time, leaving a thin layer of saliva in her wake. "You were thinking of it, the way my lips will feel. How badly you wanted to grab this fucking ponytail and force my head down."
Fuck. The thought breathes out involuntarily between your lips, she gives a few more slow licks to the base and ensures it's well lubricated. "Maybe I thought about it once or twice…"
"All day maybe." She gives one swipe over the pre-cum pooling out, her plush lips closing around your tip. Her desire is palpable and exciting, she craves your taste like candy. Her hand is just as soft, working in tandem with her mouth. No matter how many times she sucks you off, no matter how often she makes you cum. It's just as exhilarating as the first time.
"You look cute."
She pauses. Just for a second, not long enough to stop, long enough to register your words. Then she sucks a little harder, like that's her answer. Her mouth is definitely your favourite part of Yena (sexually of course, as a friend it'd be her personality.) And her answering makes that more apparent. The softest pillows that feel good against yours or wrapped around you.
Yena lowers half way, she's a messy cocksucker to her own benefit. She drools and it dribbles downwards onto your balls. She takes notice and flaunts her complete oral talent, fondling your balls with her hand. You let out a very audible groan, thrusting upwards involuntarily into her mouth.
"Keep doing that, fuck Yena." She listens, bobbing her head up and down, continuing her worship. It's leisurely and as casual as dicksucking can be, accidental glances keep you grounded to your location and for once in an office environment you feel calm and even more so.
Content.
Something changes in the blink of an eye, Yena has a seductive smirk before unsheathing your erection. "You love me sucking this cock right?"
"So much."
"Mmh, I like to hear that." Yena runs her tongue over you again, starting at the base and going upwards. This time she's sloppy, pushing past the idea of filthy. Spit gets everywhere, every time she gets to the ridge she lets a river of saliva flow outwards. It's a sight straight out of your imagination, saturated in your cute co-workers spit.
She rubs your sensitive balls in firmer circles, this is truly the epitome of getting worshipped. "Do you think I'm the best in the office?" It's unfair of Yena to be asking this right now of all times, she has the advantage of being in the moment. Plus who could you compare this to? But you aren't blind, even when she hits a particular spot and forces your eyes shut.
"With a mouth this good? Absolutely– fuck Yena."
That was what she wanted to hear. She goes for it and descends down, taking as much of you as she can. You disappear into her mouth, the warm bliss is short lived by her gags. Forcing her to regrettably pull away. "Right answer, I'd have left if you said anything different."
"Don't lie."
She doesn't meet your eyes, still huffing. "shush."
Yena falls back into her rhythm, alternating between tongue adulation and bobbing praise. A grunt and a sigh escapes your lips, she’s so fucking good. The mess, the slurps. She’s attentive, dipping her tongue into your messy slit helplessly leaking pre-cum.
“You keep getting better.” Your praise is acknowledged with a flurry of quick bobs, relishing in your taste and scent. Yena seems dedicated to wringing you dry, not stopping and or slowing.
Minutes pass just like that, she pushes you right to the edge– has you throbbing and buckling but stops before you finish. “Mmh, do you like the way I kiss it?” She kisses it so firmly it makes a pop. “And suck it?” She demonstrates with a few more filthy movements of her head.
“So much.” You are completely at her mercy.
“I need you, I’m so fucking wet…” She pushes her face against your shaft, taking your balls between her lips and sucking hard. The last perverted act before she gets up. “Fuck me.” She leaves no room for denial, not that you would of course.
“Start undressing yourself, give me a show if you want it.” Your request is mainly to recover from Yena’s ridiculously good blowjob. She listens eagerly, starting with her black vest. Unbuttoning each one slow as one can, letting each pop. Slowly the fabric opens.
“I look good in this outfit.” She throws it somewhere before moving onto her white button-up. “I’m going to look even better naked and full of your cock.” She starts at the top, her shirt’s collar falling away to show the first inches of her smooth skin. It’s a shame her black bra intervenes from seeing her breasts, a short-lived problem though, easily distracted as she unbuttons the rest you get a sight of her abs. you don’t know how she stays in such shape and works this many hours a week. And she won’t share.
She twirls around, bending backwards giving a prime view to her ass while she wiggles out of the final piece of office attire. It’s another great part of her, so full and worth a feast, but she wants to get fucked too hard for that.
“If you want to see the rest you are just going to have to do it yourself.” She smirks and you take it as the challenge it is. Getting up, stepping out of whatever’s pooled at your feet and pushing her back onto her chair.
You grunt something as her bra unclips into your hand, her tits on full view for you and you alone. If she wasn’t looking at you with those eyes, the ones that say ‘I’m five seconds from losing my mind.’ There’d be a lot more enjoyment of her body, it’s a crime really.
One of those ‘oh no my duck is too juicy’ situations though, tugging the remains of her underwear and putting it somewhere nearby. She lifts her legs up and scoots closer to the edge, putting her in the perfect position to get fucked right then and there.
You lock the wheels to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere, don’t want to run a marathon while plowing your co-worker. Her slit is dripping with desire to get fucked five minutes ago, she’s greedy and you oblige.
Her lower lips welcome your swollen, spit covered head as it pushes in. Yena’s tight enough to choke every inch her walls grab onto, it’s addictive, requiring you to pace yourself very carefully.
“H-hurry up.” She whines, the way she breathes it out with pure need elicits something more sinister within you. An urge to do the exact opposite of her request. So you slow down. “Don’t be an ass.”
“I mean you could say please.” You tease.
“Please, are you happy now?” You’ve bottomed out, but you aren’t satisfied with her answer.
“Mmh, do better.”
“Please.” And that’s much more your speed, how quickly she submitted resonated something within you. How far could you push that boat out?
Maybe you’ll test her later. Her inviting warmth demands to get fucked and you go for it, thrusting in and out. She screams loudly at how you go from zero to one hundred, how big your cock is. (That was a fun confession she spilled by accident.)
“That’s fucking good!” Yena’s chair is just as loud as her moans, you withdraw and fill her back up to the hilt without struggle. She’s well lubricated thanks to all the exhaustive cock-sucking foreplay, adding another layer of filth to your length.
“T-tight.” You forgot to say the rest, mindmelted by her hugging cunt. Relentlessly plowing her, wet skin slapping against wet skin. “Fuck.”
“Fuck all that boredom into my slutty cunt!” The call to action is already being followed but you are happy to continue. “Mmh!”
“I’m planning to, until you cream all over my fucking cock.” Then a spark of motivation from a stray glance of her ponytail.
You pull out, yank her onto the floor, grab onto her hair and shove your cock right back into her mouth. “And use this mouth.” Yena gags and nearly chokes but she doesn’t tap or resist. Her fingers work at her clit while she gets facefucked.
It’s glorious, pushing your cock deep into Yena’s throat. Spit flooding out the corners of her mouth. As quickly as you start, you stop. Letting her breathe. “Oh my…” Yena is given a few seconds before you hoist her back over her desk, using the only free spot to have to ram her from behind.
Time melts away as she takes your harsh railing, clapping against her backside. Every thrust feels like therapy after a long day and her body is the stress toy. “Fuck me, fuck me harder!”
The ponytail feels just as good being used to release her moans as it is to silence them. Pulling on it harshly every few thrusts, you two have fully succumbed to lust and desire. With her screams and your loud groans the office space is completely encapsulated in your act.
You hope the janitors aren’t in the building.
“Yes, yes!” She tries to think but all she focuses on is the same repeated thrusts, you want to use her mouth like her pussy again. Throwing her roughly back on the ground, shoving yourself back into her mouth.
“Yena…” Her ponytail is frazzled but that’s quite fine with you, it adds to the picture of her ruined body. “Take it.”
Her vocals fail her, words being replaced with “gluk gluk gluk.”
Then you bend her back over the table, alternating between her holes recklessly. Continuing that pace. “Wait, fuck.” You sober up for a moment, “Doesn’t this office have ‘a nobody in past twelve rule?’”
“AH! Yeah– what time is it?” You swipe your phone, slowing your thrusts involuntarily to focus.
“Eleven fifty five.”
“Better fucking hurry up!” Yena’s previous work meant this was lightwork, rubbing at her clit with your spare hand. Fucking her as fast as you physically could, chasing both of your thrilling climaxes.
A few more thrusts and Yena screams, spilling her orgasm all over your cock. It doesn’t stop your pounding against her reddened pussy, fucking her through it. There wasn’t much time, so for the final time you infiltrated her mouth.
“Take it..” For the second time today you fill her mouth with your load, she doesn’t struggle at all. Swallowing every drop with a smile on her face. There was no time to recover, staying on your shaking legs as you and her got dressed in an impressive dance.
You get out at twelve on the dot.
Yena’s a mess, her clothes are fine but anyone who saw her would know she just got fucked. There’s an aura around her that screams ‘I just got a good fuck.’
“Thanks for the fuck co-worker.” Yena’s about to leave for her car, but you stop her.
“I have another idea.”
"I still can't believe you convinced me to call in sick to fuck my ass." Yena's not really that shocked, it's something that's entirely expected of you in the same vein it's expected of her to agree. You are both getting paid for this, which is fitting considering it feels like work pegs you all the time.
"We can admit we were faking it and then you can do some documents if you want."
She shakes her head. "And waste this cute outfit? Not a chance!"
It's a pretty cute outfit, one that radiates far too much effort for nine in the morning. Pre-planning has its perks, the white and red shirt that's entirely held up by her shoulder. Untethering it will make the entire thing pull down and from the small nubs visible through it she's forgoed the bra.
Then there's the shorts, somehow even shorter than booty shorts. Red and significantly less reserved than any of her office fits. It exaggerates her ass perfectly, revealing some of her cheeks before you pull them down. She's waiting for you to do something, an expression that's basically screaming 'fuck me.'
You grab her, tugging her shorts off– Yena wasn't wearing any underwear, her pink slit already slick with anticipation. Look lower and there's a pink plug bedazzled with sparkles, your hand naturally reaches out to touch it. "You really like pink hm? Looks good on you."
"Yeah! It's the sluttiest colour and that's what I am right?" She's teasing you for all that you said. "Just a cock sucking, desperate, addicted little whore."
"Am I wrong?" You challenge, your finger teases her slit. "You are dripping without being touched, that's pretty slutty." You push inside, a singular digit is enough to get moans out of her mouth. Last night was just the beginning, there had to be reservations.
Here though in her bedroom?
The only thing that will stop you is stamina, and even that won't stop you.
"So what? You won't do a thing about it." She'll regret those fighting words later, her face slips for a moment. Caught off guard by a second finger pushing inside. Her wetness is laughfully abundant, you have to resist the urge to shove her legs up and push into her wet cunt. Make her scream and lose her mind. And you manage.
"Would you like to bet?" It's back in her hands, like how your hand is embedded in her. Whatever she says next determines it all. The wet squelching noises of Yena are the backdrop to it all, she stains your fingers.
"I said you won't do shit." She reiterates and that's the last straw. Your hand withdraws, wipes the mess on her smooth skin. You are irritated, falling for the bait. Grabbing the lube off her bedside table, left so easily within range. So intentionally nearby.
She stays smug even as you pull the plug out of her tight rim, already lubricated but you plan to add more. "You're going to regret saying that," You sneer.
And then, while you lube up your cock. Yena does the unthinkable, she laughs at you– challenging and bratty. "Am I?"
You see red, taking all of your willpower to not immediately shove yourself inside and make her scream. Regret being the way she is, you are barely holding on. She laughs again at your struggle , trying to get the reaction she wants.
She won't get it.
Not now at least.
The oil in her drawer didn't catch your eye at first, but with her acting like this you have a new perspective on it. The large bottle fits nicely in your palm. Clicking it open and pooling it all over your hand, "You are such a brat, it's not going to give you what you want."
You smear oil all over her puckered rim, reacting to the coldness even if she didn't. Just attempting to mock you again. "You can just admit that you won't do anything."
Her sensitivity betrays her exterior when your middle finger pushes inside, just to the knuckle. It's a small catch, a little moan. She's dedicated to it now, the route she wants to take. Your hand is dripping with both shiny oil and helpful lubricant, glistening in artificial light.
"You'll be the one begging for it, remember last time?" Your finger pumps in and out slowly. "'Fuck! Turn my mouth into your filthy worthless fleshlight!'" You mock, repeating what she said last night after the whole affair. She huffs, eyes rolling to the right while she attempts to make an excuse.
"I was taking pity! Trying to make you finally fuck like a real man." Her excuse makes little sense, and you add a second digit. "And see? Just using your pathetic fingers because you can't handle it."
You keep fingering her, it's lack of pace is misery for your poor cock. It's desperate for Yena's hand wrapped around it, to be inside her holes or fuck her mouth. Every second untouched frustrates you, but it's the fact your bratty coworker is even more so that pushes you forward. Her facade can't hide every trace of frustration.
That makes it worth.
Minutes pass and your own need eclipses your desire to make Yena wait, fingers retracting. "Turn yourself around, you can handle simple directions right?"
"Hmph– make me, fucking loser." You grab onto her waist, flipping her over so hard the bed shakes.
"Fucking brat." The sight of Yena's bubbly butt makes your mouth water, smooth bare and begging to be defiled. "Useless for everything but making me cum."
"And doing reports, you'd be drowning without your best co-worker."
"Sometimes, mostly just a fucking distraction that gets us in trouble with the bosses." You pour a deluge of oil all over her ass. A stream of transparent thickness bending light on its way down. Your hands rub it all in, groping and admiring her firm cheeks.
"Oh no, my smoking hot co-worker sucks my dick twice a day! Whatever will I do?!" Yena's smirk can be heard alongside her sarcasm even while turned around, it's something you punish immediately with a brutal spank. She yelps and pushes her ass forward, silently begging for another hit.
"Shut up."
You get into position, your swollen tip rubs over her messy slit first, you push it in for a moment. Her walls grab onto what you give and her unsatisfied body's actions whine out for more.
But that's all she gets, her wet warmth was not the target this morning.
The little moans she tries to hide with snark are pure ear candy, her puckered rim resists your cock. Ungodly tight and impossibly difficult, the highest form of consummation as it starts to relent. Inviting you inside, but you aren't in a rush. Yena's an impatient brat and you'll break her into begging soon. Inch by inch takes its sweet time to slide in, disappearing between her cheeks and inside.
"Why are you so slow? Scared you'll blow too early?" Her words don't carry the same roughness when she's quivering, her hole sensitive to getting stuffed.
"Brats don't deserve to get fucked." The words leave your mouth breathily as you bottom out. That's all she gets, no thrusts or external stimulation. Just the feeling of getting stuffed.
"Does my bratty ass not deserve to be ruined? You are already inside of my slutty hole. Just waiting for you to stop being a loser and take it." It's a masterclass in bait, the degradation of herself slips casually off her tongue and for a moment you nearly concede.
"You don't deserve it, you are just a tight cockwarmer and nothing more."
"Fine, I'll do it." Her hand moves– sneaking around and attempting to give herself the relief. Two fingers aiming to grant the pleasure you refuse to give.
You stop it before she starts, seizing her wrist in your hand. She tries to wiggle it out but your firmness triumphs.
"Not a fucking chance." You punish her sly deed with a flurry of swats on her right asscheek, blooming red underneath
"What's the problem sweetheart? Worried I can make myself cum, worried I don't need you?" Her other hand gets locked and pinned.
"Need you?" You chuckle deeply, taken aback by the sheer audacity to say those words right now. When she's just an outlet for your pleasure. "I don't need you, I could jerk off and you'd be worthless." You aim for the words to get a reaction, the second before she replies is a reaction enough.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Hm? How so?"
Yena lowers her voice, seductive and lacking levity. "Because the feeling of my holes hugging your dick of yours is better than your hand could ever be, sweetie."
You pivot. "We both know you'll crack eventually, cock addicted brat." Yena's walls can't stop clenching around you, it's in her DNA to please even when you give her nothing. You could cum just off this if given enough, though that wouldn't be satisfying. You live for the triumph over Yena in this moment, to prove her wrong for the love of it.
"Ngh, asshole." You let her hands go as a test, to see if she can be trusted to keep her hands to herself. And in a way, she does. Because she immediately tries those antics again. And this time you've had enough, looking at the belt you have on the ground. You didn't come here wearing clothes that needed a belt, it was solely for the premonition you'd need it.
Fortune favours the bold, you suppose.
You don't remove yourself from Yena's snug ass, keeping yourself firmly embedded as you lean down. She leans alongside, with a stressed lunge you manage to swipe it. "Keep fucking still." You growl, tying the belt around her arms. Locking her movement behind her back.
"Just fuck me sweetheart, get it over with." The nickname really gets on your nerves, a simple diminutive. And it's designed to cause you to lose your mind. It's so close, but you exhale. Spank her one more time.
"Beg for it." Then you can hear a pindrop. Absolute silence.
"No. Do what I say." She tries to be stern.
But she doesn't have the authority here, tied up on her bed. "Sweetheart." You take her diminutive and throw it back at her, finger teasing her slit she tried so desperately to touch. The slick is even more abundant now, it's comical how worked up she is.
It feels like an eternity how long you two sit in this position, a back and forth. You push Yena to the edge, rapid fingering for a second then a minute of barely touching. She starts to crack at the seams, she doesn't have that same umph or defiance. It's beautiful to see.
Then finally.
"please…" Yena's too quiet for your liking, but you are fair. Moving deliberately, pulling out leaving just the tip and then just as languidly back in.
"Come on, you can be a bit louder if you want to do that badly."
"Please..! Pound me." A bit better, you speed up.
"Say what you are, prove you want it."
"I'm your slut! A needy brat who needs her ass fucked! Please." The last part sounds pathetic, makes you feel so powerful. All your pent up frustration snaps, an obsessive urge to make her scream more.
She screams so deliciously as her tight hole gets fucked with all the force you can muster, sudden whiplash scrambling her mind. Your hard length pummels into her, making her oiled cheeks jiggle. Yena's getting fucked like a fleshlight, the humanity both of you have is replaced with a compulsive urge to ruin & be ruined. "Ah! Fuck you mi–ght r-uin me!"
"Good! That's what you fucking wanted right?" Yena slumps into her bed, you grab her sprawled out hair. Forming a shoddy ponytail before yanking her upwards, she cries out euphoria while she takes all the pain and pleasure.
"Fuck! Yes, yes!" Yena's unable to adjust, moaning out shrilly. "It's s-o fucki--ng good– more!"
"Don't tell me what to do, take what you are given– fucking brat." Your cock twitches, her desperation is so fucking addictive. You ram into her without care, balls slapping against her slit. Her bedroom is scorching hot with sweat and sin, it's dripping down your forehead and fuck.
"O-okay!" You overwhelm her, getting into a proper rhythm. Every thrust is followed by a disrespectful spank and a tug on her hair. "Thi-s!"
She's fucked stupid in record time, crying out while you abuse her hole. It's easier now, your cock stretching her out and claiming the space as its own. "Taking it so fucking well!" you continue treating her like the slut she is, all on her mind was the feeling of her asshole getting ravaged.
"Ru-in– me! Fuck, plow my ass! T-reat me lik-e your person-al bratty– whore!"
"That's all you fucking are, worthless slut."
"Yes! Please, please! Fuck! I'm so close!"
"Tell me when."
You keep slamming into her body, letting go of her hair to deliver the harshest fucking you can. The same repetitive motions push her right to the edge, so close to her climax. She moans and then finally shrieks "I'm going to- fuck!"
That fuck screams desperation and frustration as you pull out, her gaping hole clenching around nothing as it begs for your cock. She grinds against the air in an attempt to get something, anything. "W-Why?" Yena's voice croaks.
"Do you think you deserve it? After all of that?" You tease, chuckle. "Defiant, difficult brat."
"I'll listen to whatever you want! Please just let me cum…" Her voice is laced with as much need as her body sweat, you pull her forward and redirect your slaps to her rock hard pink tits. Getting fun delirious moans, it's the only pleasure she'll get.
"Beg, sweetie."
"Please! Take advantage of my ass and just make me cum! Fill my slutty hole with your cum, do anything! Just. Please." She grovels, you are very horny otherwise Yena would have to wait a lot longer. You flip her back around and get on top of her. She lays prone as you take her.
"F-fuck! I'm so close, please just let me!" Yena's a desperate whore and you don't mind letting her cum if it means you cum.
"Cum." With your words Yena loses her mind, one last piercing moan and she orgasms all over her bed. You decide there's only one place for your load, "Fuck, going to flood this tight ass."
Your orgasm hits you just as hard as it hits Yena, thick spurts of your load coat her anal walls. Completely and utterly filing her up, she moans at the warmth. Pulse after pulse she's made yours, thrusting to extend it as long as possible. When it's done you pull yourself out, watch as your filthy load gets pushed out.
"Damn." You lay next to her, heavy pants fill the space as your chest heaves.
"Y-yeah.. woah." It seems like you are both coming back down to earth, the intensity of it all.
"Can you untie my hands now?" You freed her sore limbs from the belt's shackles, giving her freedom.
Yena gets herself up, climbing off the bed and gingerly limping her way to the shower. Though that sight confirms you weren't finished, the shared cum on her thighs. The messy, frazzled hair. Her red and flushed body.
You leap forward, Yena's shock is seen on her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup and all the other useless stuff on her desk. You are still rock solid and Yena's ass welcomes you back inside, every snap of your hips forces your cum back in deep. The mirror grants the view of her robbed while she was on the bed, her squeezed shut eyes, her forced open mouth that has an endless stream of moans.
"Fuck! Oh my god!"
"Did you think we were done? Not until this ass can't sit down without remembering my cock ruining it." Her hands press against the wood, it does little to stabilise herself. She's at your complete mercy, your hands fondle her tits. Just letting pure desire motivate you.
"Yes! Make me cum again!"
"Don't fucking hold back, cum your brains out." You watch in delight as her body already seizes, orgasming onto the carpet. You've really done a number on her, continuing to ram into her overstimulated body. Reveling in the whole scene, her tamed state stares back at you for a brief moment before her eyes involuntarily close enough.
"Keep going!"
You pull out of Yena just long enough to take her to the floor, pushing her feet up by her head as you slide into her ass one more time. This angle was perfect, she's fucked out of her head. Just a wailing moaning mess desperate to cum again, you commit to giving her one more. It's primal and unapologetically raw, you have no energy left to tease or mock.
Just to finish.
You chase it, ignoring the feeling of burning muscles and increasingly exhaustion. Just focusing on the deep, impactful, forceful slaps against her crotch. Yena's overwhelmed body cums again with an orgasmic screech and that's what pushes you over the edge. In a last second move you leave her snug warmth, climbing over her body as you stroke yourself to completion all over her pretty flushed face. Watching as a load just as strong as your first defiles her. Thick white paints over every inch, a stray shot splashing over her tits before you fall sideways onto the carpet.
She pants, you pant, both desperate for oxygen that refuses to enter your lungs. All of the adrenaline seeps out of your bodies and is replaced by ache. "You really did a number huh?" She breaks the tension, voice hazy.
"You okay?" Your eyes look at her, if you weren't so exhausted it'd inspire a third round. Her cum stained face angled towards you, though the filth blocks her from being able to see. It's also on her thighs and her tits. Marking your co-worker/brat and claiming her as yours. Despite the mess you give her a comforting kiss on the lips.
"Never been better, just help me to the bathroom please?"
Yena sat scrolling on her phone, an additional mattress of pillows underneath her body. It's like nothing's ever happened, like you two didn't just fuck like rabid animals for the last hour or two. "Ow…" She whines when she readjusts.
"Are you alright Yena? Like, honestly." You move the hair out of her left eye, still slightly damp from half assed drying. She smiles and you feel like a few weights have been taken off your shoulders.
"Of course, that was… intense. But, it's a day off and all."
You want her to say more, but she hasn't any other time.
She won't, that's part of the flair you suppose. Maybe she's not comfortable letting herself be herself, doesn't want to say too much. It's not something you'll push on, not something you have to.
It isn't your place.
If she wants to be reductive, wants to keep things simple. You'll let her.
Especially if it keeps you two doing this arrangement, feelings are overrated.
Summary: The beasts have found their way out of the device to meet their partner, little do they know their partner isn’t as small as them.
Written pre silent salt
Mystic flour
🌾 - She had been waiting for the opportunity to escape the confines of the game for a long time. As her ability to break rules and speak to you in various ways came to her, so did the ability to enter your world. She had not let on she could do that for some time, she wanted to ensure she would not crumble or lose her powers as she paid you a visit. Her intentions were to bring you with her, so you could sit at her side and do whatever you did to control the kingdoms at her disposal.
🌾 - The day was finally here, she had ensured everything would go smoothly and you had just opened the game and began speaking to her, moreso complaining about something that had went wrong in your life. She’d look up at you, “I can fix this all for you,” she said which you stopped. She continued to speak, finding a sliver of enjoyment at your reaction. “I will show you,” she sounded ominous which made you frantically start to explain it wasn’t that bad and you weren’t that frustrated.
🌾 - You stopped as that cakehound loading animation played before your phone shut off. You set it down and walk away. As anyone would think, you assumed she was about to come out your phone like the girl from The Ring. But as you watched your phone flicker brightly… you saw a little cookie standing on the screen.
🌾 - “Why is everything so large..?” She spoke and turned to see the giant human she had been speaking to for some time crouched beside the desk looking down at her. You were bigger than expected, she was frankly expecting you to be cookie sized not witch sized.
🌾 - “Aaaaaaaw you’re so smaaaaall~” You croon and pick her up. Cupping your hands under her, she cant help but feel a little shocked that her entire plan of dragging you back to the kingdom and keeping you seemed to have been thwarted. “Is there a purpose to your behaviour?” She asks as you lift her to your face. “Sorry, you’re so tiny! I forget you were like a cookie or whatever,” you respond. “You’re so cute even though you’re so scary! I could just eat you up-“ she stared darkly at you. “Sorry, bad choice of words..”
🌾 - She seemed to get over your statement relatively quickly. Floating to her feet and standing in your palm. She didn’t know how she’d get you in the game with such a difference in size and strength, not to mention you had no flour within you for her to manipulate. But maybe she could find other ways to use you to her benefit, you did seem very witch-like after all…
Burning spice
🏜️ - If there was a barrier, Burning Spice was sure to break it. He was somewhat offended at the notion he was trapped in another prison but once he realised what was happening he knew he had to escape. There was a wall between him and his beloved which made him powerless to turn all your issues to rubble!
🏜️ - You had opened cookie run one day, the first thing you did was say hi to Burning Spice who was standing in an area where your decorations had mysteriously disappeared. He laughed, “your face will be priceless when i inflict my wrath upon your world!” You snickered in a sort of “yeah right” kind of way. He grinned, “do you not believe me? Let me prove it!” He said as your phone began to vibrate making you drop it. You walked away from your phone, now looking for something to defend yourself with as the phone flipped around and flashed its screen.
🏜️ - The screen suddenly sparked and a small red figure jumped out from it, weapon sparkling. “HAHAHA! Kneel before the Great De-“ He was cut off as he looked over at the human, much larger than him, he may have chosen the wrong battle…
🏜️ - You stare in shock for a moment, hoping for dreading a muscular beast towering over you. “Ha! Look at you! A mini destroyer!” You say and walk over, dropping the toy sword you grabbed for self defense. “Do not patronise me! I will crumble you!” He roared but you picked him up, hands wrapped around him watching him squirm. “D’aaaaawwww you’re like a feral kitten~” you coo and pet his head, making his antennae push back. “I am not a pet!”
🏜️ - You giggle, “sorry, i cant help myself,” you say and open your hands letting him stand. “You’d be wise to treat me with respect,” he growls. You grin, “Alright i’ll stop messing with you…” you snicker and continue under your breath, “baby spice…”
Shadow Milk
🃏 - He couldn’t contain himself! Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire cookie thought he had finally lost what minute amount of sanity he had. He knew he looked and sounded insane, Black Sapphire cookie was more curious than worried. “So… Master, i can only assume you have some marvellous plan in the work… which you’ve decided to share with the… sky…” he hesitantly asks with Candy Apple cookie tailing after. Shadow milk cookie grinned and floated over. “Of course! Im going to see my Darling Y/N!” Candy Apple cookie turned red and shouted “WHAT?!”
🃏 - “I’ve never heard of this.. Y/N cookie…” Black sapphire cookie said skeptically. Shadow milk cookie raised an eyebrow then grinned wider. “Ill bring them here… right after a romantic entrance!” He said in a dreamy tone before summoning a black portal and flying into it.
🃏 - You were doing dishes in an empty house, it was dark and you were in a good groove. You were pulled from your work as you heard familiar laughter down the hallway. You frown, you must’ve left Cookie run on. As you turn the faucet off you watch as the light from your bedroom has a tall figure standing in it. “Oh Y/N~! I have come to pay you a visit,” Shadow Milks voice rang through the home. You stood up straight, “that’s impossible!” You say watching the figure move in the light as if looking around, you begin to move through the hallway hesitantly. “And yet here i am! Ready to kiss you silly!” You rather liked that idea, you walked through the door to see a small floating cookie… not a human.
🃏 - You stand shocked, before smirking. “You want to kiss me?” You say and he whips around, face visibly scared. “Ohohoh! You’re much bigger than anticipated! Maybe just a peck on the cheek will suffice?” He tried to hide his fear, probably that they’d eat him. “Oh no, i’ve waited so long for a romantic kiss, you just want to give me a little smooch? That wont do… come here!” You say before jumping forward trapping the cookie in your hands. You press your lips to his face with an audible “mmmmmmwah!” Then let go of him, he transforms into a paper puppet, descending slowly to the floor making small flustered noises.
🌷 - You worked so hard and it hurt that Eternal Sugar cookie couldn’t do anything! So she began to search, and test and finally she cracked the code. She would come to you after another gruelling work day and she would hold you in her arms, carrying you back with her to spend the rest of your life with her in the garden.
🌷 - Soon she did just that, she watched as you opened the app while laying on the couch. Tiredness prevalent in your eyes. You tried to do you tasks first but she wouldn’t allow it, when you went to her she said “You look exhausted! How about i help you relax?~” She says before the game shuts down, your phone shuts down for that matter. You do what you can but it just wont budge. Its only when you tiredly drop on your lap and lean your head back against the pillow, something happens
🌷 - A soft purple mist forms around your phone putting the scent of a perfume like aroma into the air. You look back down, a white pair of sugary wings opens up wafting the mist away. She looks around then sees your face, her head tilting. “How… unexpected,” she seems confused but doesn’t let on any negative emotions. You seem just as confused.
🌷 - Your confusion shifts to adoration, “you’re so pretty.” Sitting up, you hold her in your hands like an injured bird, your hands cupping around her but leaving space for her to see you. She laughs, “how sweet.” Shes a bit scared to say the least, maybe she should have accounted that you were likely not a cookie.
🌷 - “I didn’t expect you to appear like this,” you say running your finger over her wings in a feather light touch. “I almost want to keep you for myself and never let you go back,” you say. Is this how her angels felt about her? She felt honoured and nervous at the same time. “Well… lets not go that far just yet, im here to help you.” She says and flies up to the back of the couch out of your hands. You tilt your head, “help me?” You ask placing a hand over the back of the couch. “Help you relax… your height will not deter me from helping you find happiness.”
summary: Your very cute very polite dealer compliments your hair and wishes you a happy birthday, you give him a slice of cake later on as a thank you. All very casual, right?
pairing: Plug!Choso Kamo x Reader
warnings/tags: smoking, drug consumption, reader is a baker in more ways than one, choso is a yearner of course, sukuna doesn't give a fuck, yuji likes to instigate
word count: 4,103
a/n: Never wrote for JJK before so this was quite fun. Obsessed with the plug!choso headcannon on here I felt right at home writing about picking up. Actually based on interactions with my dealer lol (just the hair compliment and the cake however I didn't make a second one I just had to pick up the day after because im irresponsible)
master list ~ prompt list
It had only been a few months of picking up from Choso but your relationship was something you’d describe as positive neutral if anything. He was more on the quiet side but unexpectedly as time developed whenever you saw him to pick up he was almost customer-service polite to you.
Once again your usual pick up had rolled around, the prospect of a new strain and a new book had you pretty much skipping up to his car. Choso noticed the obvious pep in your step as he tracked you in his rear view mirror, luckily he managed to get his smile under control by the time you got to the door.
“Busy day?” You joked hopping into the front seat of his car, considering he’d messaged you ‘15 minutes’ almost an hour ago.
“I know I know,” He held up his hands in surrender the same smile as before threatening to break loose, “Honestly I should get another driver.”
Choso has to hold in a laugh as he watches you physically shudder reaching for your wallet at the implication of his comment.
“Ok the idea of picking up from someone else? I take it back I’ll wait all the fake 15 minutes you need.” You said laughing as you handed him the cash.
He tries to ignore how that simple statement made him feel so he elected to remain quiet as he sorted through his centre console for your bags.
“Well let me know how this one is, it’s the first time I’ve got it so I wanna make sure it’s alright.” He knew realistically even if every other customer hated it, he’d get it back in depending on your opinion.
“You got it Kamo, see you in two weeks,” You closed up your bag and got out of the car and then the same as always you turn around placing your hand on the top of the door and duck your face back into the door frame and smiling at him in a way that leaves him parked for a good 5 minutes after you’re gone, “Stay safe, yeah?”
“Yeah.” It barely above a whisper but it was the most he could manage, and with that you closed his door and walked back in the direction you came.
The more time went on the more he began to look forward to your routine visits. Some part of him wanted to be late just to hear you make a joke about the time but every time you messaged he skipped whoever was already waiting to deliver to you.
However there was something already different about this pick up, in the 8 months he’d seen you your schedule never changed whether that was the amount or the time between visits. Now this time you’d texted him asked for nearly double? He read it twice and was still tempted to message confirming the amount until he was forcefully stopped.
“You’re a dealer questioning money just because you like the girl?”
“I never said—”
“Shut the fuck up and get in the car you’re giving me a headache.” Sukuna grumbled from the couch as Choso rambled away his problems towards him. Sukuna hadn’t the faintest clue why Choso would come to him of all people with his issues.
The confusion of the entire thing continued as he pulled into his regular spot near your street and waited for you to walk up. He didn’t even see you in his mirrors before his door opened and for a moment he frowned thinking you’d sent a friend to pick up instead. That was until you turned around and he got a sight at that same blindingly bright smile.
“You changed your hair.” His voice was a mix of shock and awe, he couldn’t even stop the statement before he tried but he at least held the grin back. There was something in his tone of voice that took you back a little, you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks and you quickly ruffled for the cash in your bag to avert your eyes.
“Yeah, got it done yesterday. It’s quite different, whatcha think?” You held the cash out towards him. Now it was his turn to avert his gaze from you.
“It looks great. It really suits you,” He began to count all the bags and pass them to you one by one. He looked between them and your hair before deciding to push his luck “You got an event going on or something?”
“Oh yeah! It’s my birthday this weekend. Not a massive blow out, excuse the pun, just a sesh with a few friends.”
“Damn, well happy birthday for this weekend! Hang on a minute,” He said putting his hand up to stop you moving as he grabbed his bag from the backseat and rummaged through it pulling out what looks like a package of sweets. “It’s not exactly a cake but we got a couple of bags of gummies to trial before selling them. Consider it a birthday freebie you just have to let me know what it’s like.”
“Oh shit, are you sure?” You said still holding the bag unsure. He nods quickly but smoothly in response and the smile you gave him in response nearly melted him on the spot. “That’s so sweet, thank you.”
“Yeah no problem enjoy your birthday.”
“Will do Kamo. Stay safe, yeah?” Getting out of the car and giving Choso your usual farewell hit him a little harder this time for reasons he couldn’t figure out or was maybe choosing not too.
By the time your next usual pick up was due he wasn’t actually expecting you to message but he would be lying if he wasn’t glad to see you. However this time when you got in his car you handed him a Tupperware box before you even sat down.
“What..is this?”
“Cake!” Your voice singing with enthusiasm “I wanted to give you a slice as a thanks for the gummies for my birthday.”
“You saved me a slice of your birthday cake?” The wonder was evident in Choso’s voice, the gesture had him genuinely dumbfounded and you could read it on his face. He knew you could read him like a book from the knowing look on your face.
“Oh god no that was about a week ago, that thing would be stale as hell by now,” You laughed until you watched the expression on his face falter a little, “They were both made by me though so it makes them technically related.”
“You bake?” He asked the question and then a silence hung between them as a smirk broke out on your face, “Excuse the pun.” He added after finally catching on.
The sound of your laugh sung through his car in a way that made any other sound seem boring. It wasn't even a particularly funny joke but the combination of Choso missing the joke and still attempting it was so endearing couldn't help yourself. As the burst of laughter slowed down you remember he'd actually asked a question so you began to nod your head in response.
“It's not your type of baked but I hope it's good anyway. You're not allergic to anything right? I probably should've checked first.” Mumbling the last line to yourself you began to avoid eye contact cursing that you didn't even consider it at the time. He began to shake his head in response but noticed you couldn't see him with your avoidant gaze.
“No ill be good this is great thank you, you'll make my cousin jealous he loves sweets of any kind.” Choso let the smile break out freely this time.
“Anytime Kamo, just let me know what you think yeah?”
The only response you got this time was a small nod, as he carefully placed the box in the bottom of his bag. He moved with such care you think you’d handed him a live bomb and not a simple slice of cake. Once it was safely away you took that as your queue, grabbing your bag and wishing him farewell with your ever constant ‘Stay safe, yeah?’
After that he ignored every customer that he’d told a time too and went straight back to his house, upon arrival he was met with very obvious confusion considering he was back hours earlier than usual.
“The fuck?”
“Is he okay?”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
He ignored the looks and murmurs behind him and bee-lined straight to the kitchen. Slinging his bag onto the table he began to dig through the drawers for some cutlery not even noticing Yuji following him into the room. For once in his like Yuji stood in perfect silence just observing, with his lack of sound and Choso’s laser focus as the other brother swung back around looking he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden presence.
“Is everything ok?”
“Why are you stood there so silently!” Choso’s voice came out higher and more panicked than he meant it too before he coughed and placed a hand on his chest to calm down. “I’m good I’m just looking for a fork.”
The expression on Yuji’s face was so unreadable the silence that befell them wasn’t one Choso could bear. While in Yuji’s mind he wanted to laugh at how much he managed to scare Choso without trying but he was also slightly worried for his mental state with how erratic he was so he chose to just repeat his original question.
“Is everything ok?”
“You’ve already asked that.”
“And got no response.”
Choso let out a huge sigh, still partly out of breath from the adrenaline spike of being jump scared, and reached into his bag. Once again he was so careful you would this it was explosive, but it was just a tupperwear box. That however still told Yuji nothing so he chose to continue to stand staring in almost judgemental silence.
“Someone gave me something to try and I’m hungry…” He let a beat go by before he decided that wasn’t explanation enough, for some reason, “So I’m trying it now. Then I won’t be hungry so I’ll go back out.”
“Totally not an over explanation but ok. Who did you get it from?”
“A customer.”
“Why would a customer give you something?”
“I don’t know, as a thank you?” Choso was trying so hard to remain neutral but even thinking about you was causing the heat to rise in his cheeks.
“What is it?”
“Cake.”
“You got cake from a customer? What did you do?”
“I’m sorry did you change majors to police work what is this an interrogation now?” He knew he had to change the subject soon, in all honesty he just wanted Yuji to leave so he could try the cake in peace. With the sudden attitude change Yuji just spun on his heels to exit the kitchen leaving Choso finally alone. However that wouldn’t last long considering he could hear the conversation from the living room.
“Dude a customer gave him cake and now he’s being weird, I don’t know.” Yuji grumbled as he audibly fell back into a chair.
“Why the fuck would a customer give him something?”
“That’s what I asked!”
“Wait,” The minute he heard Sukuna sit up he knew his peace was almost over again. Sukuna raised his volume to shout and they’d be luckily if the neighbours didn’t hear at that range “Is this that fucking girl from 2 weeks ago?
“Huh?
“You better not have given her something for f—”
“A girl?!”
Just like that Yuji’s figure had appeared back into the kitchen staring at Choso, he moved so fast and smoothly it was as close to teleportation as a human could get. However he had no brain power in between here and there so all he could do, again, was repeat himself.
“A girl?” Thankfully he remembered to at least adjust his volume.
“Yes a girl, I wished her happy birthday so she gave me a slice of cake.” Even as he’s trying to be chill and make it sound as casual as possible he can feel the blood beating around his body quicker each moment.
“She saved you some cake just for saying happy birthday?” Yuji knew he was being a little shit because he could see as Choso’s face got closer to the colour of a tomato with each passing moment thinking about her.
“No, that would have gone bad apparently,” That was a sentence he couldn’t disguise his smile at but he managed to get it back under control just as quick as it appeared, “She made both so she saved me a slice of this one.”
“She made a whole other cake to give you a slice?” Yuji kept pressing but Choso thought that was ridiculous. There was no way you baked a whole cake just to give away one slice. You must just choose to bake often enough that you had a fresh slice to give him.
“Now why would she do that?” Little did he know…
“Now why would you do that?” Your room mate Shoko’s voice called from the living room as you sat on the balcony smoking, and also enjoying a slice of cake.
“Do what?”
“Bake another cake just to give a slice to a guy?” The balcony door opened as she joined you on the chairs with her own joint in hand.
“I always bake I don’t know what you mean.” You weren’t fully lying you tried to bake as often as you can, it’s a fun hobby and it’s definitely made more entertaining by doing it stoned.
“Yeah like once a month, you decided to do it twice in two weeks because…?” She let the silence hang with the implication. You knew she saw right through you, she had since the first day you met and you wanted to subtly ask if she smoked, at this point you had to avoid the question.
“Are you really complaining about having freshly baked AND decorated cake for after we smoke?”
“I didn’t complain at the gummies either I’m just saying.” She didn’t even try to hide the shit eating grin on her face.
“You’ve not said anything. You’ve simply stated I’ve baked quicker than usual, gave a slice out as a thank you for a free pack of gummies we had.” You took a longer drag than usual as the silence hung you could see her just staring at your profile.
“You’ve got a cru—”
“Sorry I can’t hear you there’s too much smoke around here.” You spoke and you exhaled, purposely pushing it in her direction so it hung between you both for barely a second before escaping into the night air.
She should’ve been annoyed you cut her off, and the fact you blew the smoke at her but the joke was funny so she couldn’t help but chuckle at your obvious diversion. It was only made funnier as you fully exhaled and a moment of silence passed before you burst into a coughing fit, the long drag finally showing you why that is not how you smoke normally.
You both stayed there just laughing like a feedback loop the longer you laughed the louder it seemed to get until you were both nearly cackling on the balcony. At this point you didn’t know what you were exactly laughing at and honestly that was the funniest part. Finally it started to die as you both ran out of breath but the occasional giggle escaped either of you.
“Are you ever going to do anything?” She wasn’t letting you get away from this conversation and the quicker you accepted it the better off you’d be.
“Probably not, can you imagine if it went wrong? It’s like the idea of fucking up a friendship, a good dealer is so hard to find.” You said pouting, in reality you were one in loads of people he dealt too and everyone had nice things to say so it probably didn’t mean anything from me. All Shoko could do was stare at you in disbelief, because yeah a dealer giving out a full bag of gummies was so casual you’re so right what could she be thinking.
“Ok you don’t need to phrase it like that.” You said scoffing in fake outrage. She continued to stare in confusion until she realised her inside thoughts were outside words there.
“Ah… sorry slip of the tongue. I’m still right though. You can’t go about your entire life not doing things because it ‘might not work’” The usual tone back in her voice made her sound so serious despite the half lidded bloodshot eyes.
“What would I even say?” The question left you before you could even process it, of course you were thinking about it but the idea of staring was the main block. At what was basically a full admission of Shoko being correct her posture immediately sat up as she took a long, inquisitive drag before making you wait in painstaking silence as she thought.
“Ask how the cake was.”
It was such an obvious answer you physically slapped your hand across your face in embarrassment. What if you couldn’t actually flirt with him? Shoko could see you mentally spiralling so she decided to just lay out a game plan.
“Ok lover girl calm down, here’s the plan. Wait a day, maybe two actually yeah two. Wait TWO days, then a simple ‘Hey, how was the cake?’” At this idea you immediately panicked, what if he didn’t even like cake? Or worse what if he didn’t like your cooking specifically, once again Shoko could see the inner turmoil, “He’s obviously going to love it because you bake like nobodies business. Then you say something like ‘Open to suggestions if you have a favourite dessert.’ Then you have a reason to bring him another dessert.”
“How long have you been thinking through that?”
“Honestly that was off the dome.”
“Wow… smooth.. you’re girlfriends so lucky.” You grumbled to yourself while you giggled taking another drag.
“I heard that!” Another voice spoke from the other side of the glass door reminding you you’re having a very private conversation in a very unprivate place.
“Stop eavesdropping!”
“You brought me into it first!” Utahime laughed at your obvious distress, you knew she wasn’t being serious but you still stuck your tongue out in retaliation. Soon after the door opened and she joined you both on the balcony, a front row seat to misery was always entertaining.
“Ok.. two days. I can do that.” You said more to yourself as you sat back in your chair letting the music from the apartment wash out onto the balcony and over the current atmosphere. You could do wait two days to send the text, you don’t usually see him for a fortnight anyway. Your ,or should you say Shoko’s, plan went out the window when your phone made a sound for a text notification. You stared at the phone in confusion as everyone you normally text is sat in front of you so you immediately picked the phone up.
“Oh my god he texted me.” Your voice cut through the soft atmosphere it almost sounded like the music itself had stopped.
“What?!”
“Already?”
“What does it say?”
You couldn’t even move so Shoko took the phone out of your hand to read which you didn’t resist at all. When she didn’t react either Utahime then took the phone herself to read, she was the first one to actually verbalise anything.
“He liked the cake!” She squealed swinging her hands in the air in celebration.
“Didn’t she JUST go see him?”
“Did he go straight home to try it?”
“And he messaged straight away? Ohhhhhh I see you dealer man.” Utahime started chuckling at Shoko’s comment and all of the heat went straight to your cheeks as everything settled at once.
“You got a plan B?” You said laughing out of nerves as you reach out to take your phone back. Shoko just shook her head as if to say ‘stick to the plan’ and so you did. Your text was sent and you nearly dashed your phone off the balcony in nerves.
The text however was sent and received by the wrong brother. Turns out when Yuji sprung into 1001 questions about who you were Choso had decided to just duck and run fork and cake in hand back to his car. Unluckily for him he’d remembered everything but his phone and it took Yuji less than 0.1 second to decide what he had to do.
He immediately sent the text praising the cake, he was smart enough to avoid guessing what cake he didn’t want to fumble his brothers chance already. Yuji decided to put the phone back exactly the same knowing Choso would come back in a second after realising his mistake and would find out when she replied. He’d only taken a few steps out the kitchen before he heard the notification tone, he knew it could just be a customer but what if it wasn’t?
Trusting his gut Yuji walked back to the phone and clicked it on just to quick view the message and he almost broke the phone dropping it in disbelief.
‘I’m glad you like it! I take suggestions to try new things if you have a favourite dessert :)’
Yuji felt his hairs stand on end as a sudden breath was on the back of his neck, he twisted his head slightly to see the looming presence of his brother eyes wide staring between the phone and Yuji.
“What did you do?” His voice was quiet but panic was evident as he put the pieces together. All he could do was hand the phone back to Choso, he didn’t even know what to say to him his brain was still computing before it was eventually about to blow with excitement.
Choso grabbed the phone and immediately retreated back to the kitchen side to read it. The range of emotions he went through in the space of 10 seconds was almost in-human, the most common one he kept going back to was disbelief and that was the one he ended on.
“Why would you text her so soon I just got back.”
“She texted back just as quick.” Yuji pointed out.
“What do I even say?” He started to panic. The most texting Choso had done was with customers, is he supposed to flirt? How will she know he’s flirting from words on a screen alone?
“Do you have a favourite dessert?” Yuji went for the obvious considering it was the question she asked. Choso stood there for a good minute, eyes darting around the room as if he was trying to chase his thoughts.
“No?” Was all he ended up with.
“No?!”
“I don’t have dessert much!” Choso was at the end of his tether in panic. In the end he just sent a panic response and he actually did dash his phone away from him as it clattered along the kitchen top.
“Dude! What did you say?” Yuji’s voice went up an octave watching the phone bounce.
“I don’t know.”
“How do you not know you just?” Yuji stopped his question there and just walked over to the phone to read whatever abomination his brother just sent. Choso couldn’t tell by his reaction if it was a good text or not and he wanted the ground to swallow him.
“Dude… you can flirt!” Yuji said throwing his hand up for a high five even though Choso had no idea what he did to earn it.
Back on your balcony the screaming had resumed as you all read the response text out loud
‘I don’t actually, I’ll just have to keep trying things you make until I find it. If you’re ok with that of course :)’
Upper Moons reaction to you leaving lipstick marks on their faces. That's literally it. Zohakutan and Daki are both written as PLATONIC in this .
KOKUSHIBO:
*Genuinely honest? He literally had no idea there was lipstick markings on his face. Legitimately neither did anyone else when he showed up at a meeting.
*He had just let his wife hold his face and kiss his eyelids sweetly before he came over. He was a usually stoic man but there's no way he'd refuse you wanting to kiss his face over and over again before he left(he's putty in your hands) and would've let you continue if Muzan didn't summon him personally.
*The problem is that mans rarely blinks, so no one legit can tell that there's bright red lipstick on his eyelids until after hours of sitting there silently listening to Muzan's tantrums on not being able to find the spider lily, he blinks. Its fast and short but it was enough to cause Muzan to pause staring at him.
*"Why do you have those?" "Those what?" "Lipstick marks. On your eyes." He's confused by the statement until he gets a chance to look at himself in a mirror closing two pairs of eyes and freezing at the sight of your kiss marks on his face.
*He's calm but mostly shocked. Slowly blinking his eyes before reaching up an arm to wipe his face on his sleeves a small smile on his lips. He's going to be having a talk with you later for pulling a stunt like that...but he's not against you covering his face in kisses again in private.
DOUMA:
*You really think he's not above letting you kiss him all over and leaving marks all over him? No..if anything this man is on his knees so you don't have to strain on tip toes to kiss him.
*He's already closing his eyes and puckered up wanting your love and affection after being deprived of it for decades. Tbh doesn't even notice the kids marks all over his face, too busy smiling like a dope ass you kiss his forehead, nose, cheeks, and other parts of his face.
*Probably won't even notice how his cult are looking at him awkwardly or confused or looking away flustered until someone takes him aside after his sermon to let him know.
*is he embarrassed? Not in the slightest. In fact he's proud to show off his love marks. Makes him feel like its a way to show others that he's yours as much as you're his. Low key wants you to use different colored lipsticks to plant multicolored kiss marks on him to match his eyes.
AKAZA:
*He's a big simp for you. So if you even mentioned wanting to kiss his face, he's hugging you gently and practically giving you silent puppy dog eyes for the affection. He just wants his pretty girlfriend to love him and secretly loves when you hold him. He has a cuddle need.
*Absolutely melts into putty when you squish his cheeks and kiss him over and over. He's mumbling how much he loves you with literal heart eyes rn. Which is why he growls angry when he's summoned for a meeting and taken away from you.
*Unfortunately also too angry to realize that he didn't wipe the obvious kiss marks on his lips, forehead, and cheeks so when Douma started laughing uncontrollably at him, he didn't even notice assuming the blonde was being an asshole as always to mess with him.
*To busy yelling at Douma to realize everyone ELSE is also staring at his face as he throttles Douma. Eventually someone breaks the silence (probably Douma between laughs) and Upper Three freezes in embarrassment. His face going a deeper pink than his hair.
*Cursing out Douma still embarrassed and ripping his vest off to rub at his pink face. Douma is not going to let him live this down. EVER.
NAKIME:
*Doesn't mind it if you do it and at the same time doesn't care. Her face is 85% covered by her hair anyways so even if you leave kiss marks on her ninety percent of them would be hidden to everyone else but the two of you.
*She takes at least twenty minutes staring into a mirror at herself however, staring at the kiss marks for a long long time especially if it's the first time you've done this. She'll wipe it off eventually with a smile on her face. Eventually she'll kiss you once back to get revenge.
GYUTARO(ft Daki's reaction:
*You'd probably have to either catch him off guard to do it or really, really, REALLY convince him to let you do it. It's not that he doesn't love your kisses, he's just not super used to anyone giving him genuine affection.
*Eventually you're able to kiss his face while you're cuddling and he can't get away. Eventually he just melts letting you kiss him all over until Daki starts whining and demanding his attention again after so long.
*He gets up with a grumble not realizing that there's bright red lipstick marks on his face and goes to calm her down from whatever tantrum she was throwing. Something about a girl bullying her. However she stops as he enters the room before bursting out in laughter. His confusion quickly turns to horror as she points out his face.
*From now on you're not allowed to wear lipstick while you kiss him. He's too embarrassed to speak about the incident.
*Daki does however recommend different lipsticks and shades for you to try out if you'd really like to get her brother flustered. A dark green to match his hair really has him flustered. Pouts if you don't give her a kiss on the forehead.
HANTENGU(+CLONES):
*Adores it strangely enough. Once you get the idea in his head and do it the first time, he's crawling back to you whenever someone upsets him and clutching onto your dress tugging at it and begging for you to kiss him better because whatever person was mean to him for no reason again. Unfortunately once the other clones see him covered in your kiss marks prepare for the others to come bugging you outta jealousy.
Sekido:
*How did you even convince him? He thinks the entire concept is entirely stupid. "What is even the point of it?! It's useless!!" Is his answer every time he sees Hantengu or one of the other clones covered in lipstick. He genuinely thinks it's dumb, until you finally convince him to let you do it. Reluctantly he does to get you to shut up. Man goes red in the face as you covered his face. He's drawing a blue screen staring at himself in your mirror. This is NEVER going to be spoken about EVER again!
AIZETSU:
*The first after Hantengu to get them. He literally comes to you crying with watery puppy dog eyes and literally begs you to give him the same treatment. He's so cute like this you can't say no. The others are literally very jealous of him when he just curls around you hogging your attention and shows off the marks he's gotten. From now on he develops the habit of crying and begging for more kisses. The marks are an assurance that he's yours.
UROGI:
*BOY. IS. READY!! As soon as he sees you giving out kisses he's on you like green on clovers. Literally. He's scooping you up into his arms before anyone else can get to you, flies off somewhere if he has to before sitting down in anticipation. Won't admit it but he's self conscious about his claws so if you kiss his claws it'll make his heart skip a beat. Lowkey gives cute sparrow chirps as you kiss his forehead.
KARAKU:
*(warning for slight innuendos) You're playing a dangerous game if you decide to give Karaku his round of kisses like he's been begging for. But he won't just want it on his face. He'll want you to kiss his neck, his lips, his chest- You refuse as he implies more that has his dirty mind racing. He pouts no matter how much he flirts and brings it up but you don't budge. He'll whine and complain about you being no fun, but he'll settle for you kissing his mouth leaving his lips red. Likes to tease the others about him making out with you more.
URAMI:
*Probably the most impatient out of ALL of the clones. He literally just scoops you up and holds you up out of reach like a kid unwilling to share a toy. Holding you up to his face and bluntly stating- "Kiss me." It might've been romantic if it wasn't so blunt and he sounded like he hated the idea. In reality he just wants it as soon as possible.
ZOHAKUTAN:
*Doesn't get it. Though he cares about you like a big sister he thinks it's gross but pouts if you don't at least give him a small kiss on the forehead when he appears.
GYOKKO:
*"SO ARTISTIC!!" Are his words when you first suggested the idea to him. You're telling him you want to put on lipstick and leave kiss marks all over him? Uh YES PLEASE!!
*It's all just another form of art to him and in a way it is. The paint is your lipstick, the paint brush your sweet lips, and the canvas is his beautifully gorgeous face!! Of course this man is going to let you put kiss marks all over him! Has no shame about it either.
*He's blushing the entire time you do it and takes an entire hour in the mirror admiring himself. Low key he's probably gets you a lipstick that matches his aesthetic. Purple or light green so it better matches.
*He doesn't wash it off for a long time after and you're later given a blank white vase he wants you to decorate with more kiss marks.
KAIGAKU:
*Like Sekido you'd have to REALLY convince him to let you do it. Of course he refuses at first giving all the usual excuses. "NO! It's stupid! Why would I even do that!?" and "I said NO! Stop asking already!!" Eventually he gets tired of you asking him and one day just throws his hands up and reluctantly agrees to let you do it but with conditions.
*This is the ONLY time he's letting you do it and it's going to be strictly PRIVATE!! You happily agree if it meant just being able to do it. He's scowling the entire time he watches you smear on lipstick and pucker up to kiss him. He complains about it the entire time but makes no move to stop you from planting kisses all over him.
*When you finish and he looks at himself, he goes blank. Mind buffering as he stares at the red kiss marks on his face ... Before he eventually grumbles wiping at his face as you giggle. He's red in the face yelling it's stupid but he actually doesn't mind you kissing him again.
