#in non-despair au's it IS cute

[drawbauchery]

nah i mean...he did stick by her when she died, so he clearly cared for her. but she's a terrorist. she doesn't give a damn about him at all. in this au she's much the same.

#five-crows-in-a-trenchcoat #art #chihiro fujisaki #mukuro ikusaba #in non-despair au's it IS cute #but otherwise it feels like people tryna woobify her lol #danganronpa #bus au

[more-than-a-princess]

Gundham knew that Sonia's birthday was today, and he had spent no small amount of time fussing over what kind of gifts that she would like. He had to get her something. After all, she was one of the few people at school that treated him with kindness, although there were certain other motivations at play. Like his feelings for her. He'd been working at a vet's part time after school, all so he could save to get her something, since his family didn't have much money.

As the school bell rang, and the others cleared out of the classroom, he called out to stop her. "Ah my Dark Queen! If I may but request a moment of your time." The Dark Lord cleared his throat, suddenly feeling jittery and awkward. He'd never gifted someone something before.

"It is your day of birth, is it not? Friday the 13th... Kehehe how befitting for one such as you." He pulled out a decently sized golden hamster plush from his jacket, that looked similar to Cham-P. "I.. have something for you. A replica of Invading Black Dragon Cham-P. He will watch over you and protect you from the unseen calamity that threatens us all."

He lingered for a moment longer, his cheeks tinged red. He had one last thing to give her after all, but he was trying to work up the courage. "One final piece for you.." He pulled out a small wrapped box. Inside was a beautiful silver necklace with a diamond encrusted crescent moon and star pendent.

"Beware, this is actually a cursed artifact! Any other that would touch it would meet an untimely demise! However, your special abilities will protect you. I believe you would enjoy an occult piece such as this." He couldn't seem to make eye contact. "If you do not wish to accept it, I understand. My evil eye will be able to keep the curse at bay for some time! Whatever the case, I do hope you enjoy this special day. Fuhahaha!" Despite the grandiose words, he was feeling very flustered, certain she wouldn't want jewelry from him. Such trinkets were usually exchanged by significant others... and despite his insistence that it was an occult object, it really was just a normal necklace.

Sonia's Birthday Asks 2023 - No Longer Accepting (unless you have spoken with me already about a delay!)

It was one of her more unusual birthdays. To be fair, it was perhaps the first one spent overseas. On her actual day of birth, Sonia Nevermind's plans included breakfast in the cafeteria, attending class, and finishing the very last of her packing before taking a night flight home on the jet. Her assistant, the beacon of kindness that she was, had at least arranged with the security and flight staff for the Princess of Novoselic to be served a piece of her favorite chocolate cake in the air, a secret that would be kept from her parents before landing. With a few days until the annual masquerade ball and plenty of ceremonies and appearances before then, the last thing anyone needed was for the Queen of Novoselic to throw a fit that her daughter's gown did not fit her.

That, and a few horror movies streamed from the comfort of her seat or the queen-sized bed in the back of the plane. Even if she wasn't having a real, normal birthday party, she could still celebrate in her own way.

Her schedule did not, at any point, involve Gundham calling out to her as she got up to leave the classroom. That was something she hadn't planned for, from the genuine surprised look that she hoped masked the panic in her eyes. Despite the fact she adored his company and preferred it over all others (something she kept a secret, if only to not make their friendship awkward), she hardly knew what to say most of the time. Or at least, not until she went over it in her mind to ensure it didn't sound naive or silly: she was well aware that plenty of Hope's Peak students considered her to be uninformed, sheltered, or just stupid to the ways of the world, due to her upbringing and tendency to mix up common phrases. It was why she wanted to take care with her words yet be genuine towards him. It wasn't hard to be open-minded and friendly to Gundham Tanaka: he so often spoke of grand occult rituals, powerful gods, and of course, the variety of feathered, scaled, and furry friends in his care, who often showed up to class (to Sonia's delight. She never minded a bear sitting at its own miniscule desk, it was very well-behaved). 

"Y-yes it is!" She half-affirmed, half-squeaked through her smile. Friday the 13th, whether it was due to pure superstition or one of her favorite film franchises, was meant to be dark and foreboding. Sonia was, at present, neither of these things, as she tried not to look too long at his multi-colored eyes or his carefully bandaged hands that had just disappeared into his jacket. Surely he'd notice, she thought, and he only meant to wish her a happy birthday. Thankfully, she was pleasantly distracted from inappropriate thoughts with a soft plush placed in her hands, made to resemble Cham-P's orange, fuzzy image, complete with chubby cheeks and loving, beady eyes. 

"Oh! It truly is Cham-P, how delightful!" Sonia exclaimed, bringing the small toy up to her face, just as she would the real hamster, and brushed her cheek against its fur. "I feel very much protected already before my journey. He shall keep me safe and in good company during my travels." And after the travels in particular, when she had to set herself on a shelf to be the princess everyone required and expected her to be. It was more challenging every time she went home, now that she'd had a taste of what a normal life was like. What real friends were like. And then...well, what Gundham was like. He was in a place in her heart all his own, one that beat a little faster as he produced a second, smaller gift. 

She might have been sheltered in the ways of navigating a grocery store or using a washing machine (to the point her clothes were now always sent out for cleaning), but Sonia was not so naive to misunderstand what sort of gift could possibly lay within a velvet box. Her breath hitched in her throat as, shifting the weight of the plush to one arm, she opened it with her free hand. It was delicate, beautiful, and according to Gundham, a cursed artifact destined to protect her. He couldn't look her in the eyes for some reason, but if he'd had, he would've seen the soft smile that spread over her lips. Different from the bright and cheerful expression she showed everyone, this one, warm and wistful and wanting, was one she reserved for him. Only for him, though often only when she was alone and couldn't be caught dreaming. But there, in the empty classroom, she couldn't stop herself as she turned over the small pendant in her hand.

"It is perfect, I love it," She breathed, tracing over the tiny crescent moon. With a pink flush spreading over her cheeks, she raised her own, shy gaze to Gundham again. Swallowing, she had one chance to reenact the sort of scene she'd always watched in dramas but never had the opportunity to happen in real life. At least, not with anyone she wanted. "It is just...it is just that my hands are rather occupied by the protective powers of Cham-P, and I would very much like to wear this today, right now. Could you please assist me with putting it on?"

Setting the necklace back in the box and placing the box into his hand, she took a deep breath and moved her hair to one side, letting it fall over a single shoulder to expose the back of her neck. "Thank you, Tanaka-san. I will treasure it dearly. It will be a great comfort while I am at home. I wish I could have invited you to the seasonal festivities, but, my family...well, they insisted that this was an important royal event and I needed to give my duties my full attention."

In short: so Princess Sonia of Novoselic wouldn't eschew her royal ball duties for the solitary goal of asking Gundham Tanaka to dance with her. She certainly spoke of him enough at home and the staff, much to Sonia's dismay, couldn't keep her crush a secret. Within the castle walls, at least.

#more-than-a-princess answered #phantasmalnightmare #Non-Despair AU: Hope's Peak Academy verse #(Sonia's Birthday Asks 2023) #(Thank you for this! Sorry about the wait: I wanted to make it as cute and awkward as possible for these two) #(Gundham gives her a necklace and can't look her in the eyes) #(Sonia vc: Oh he's just being a good friend. He couldn't possibly have a crush on me like I do him.) #(RIP if he ever visits her in any verse at home) #(Because anyone still working at the castle will know) #(And they will not let her forget it)

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。PRINCESS — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non curse! au, dad! suguru, mom + fem! reader, reader is referred to as “mommy” and “wife,” life with your daughters nanako and mimiko <3, embarrassingly self-indulgent once again

suguru is prideful—you have to hold back a giggle as he gives you a short glare, unwilling to back down.

“it looks good,” he grumbles. you’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself. “it’s great. stop being a jerk. the girls worked hard.”

“of course,” you nod, biting back a grin, “you look lovely. your hair’s never been better.”

“i can hear the laughter in your voice,” he accuses.

“i’m not laughing!”

he raises a brow, and you can’t help it. you giggle. his hair is positively ruined—there are knots and tangles and clips everywhere. you don’t know where one nest of hair starts and where the other ends. everything is everywhere at once and suguru….well, suguru is trying to convince himself this is okay.

it’s for his girls, he reminds himself—anything for his girls.

“you just laughed,” he mutters, looking into the mirror. his eyes are alarmed, but for pride’s sake, he throws on a carefree look as he shrugs. “i look like their princess. they said so themselves.”

“well, i’ll give you a point for sweetest dad ever,” you hum, pulling out a loose clip. “but i deduct five points for falling asleep on watch duty.”

you come home from work and find a sleeping suguru at the foot of the couch with two toddlers hunched over his shoulders, working diligently at his hair. it’s cute—the way he looks as he sleeps peacefully, the way they look as they giggle and twist strands of dark hair with their small fingers. it’s heartwarming and makes you want to keep the moment frozen for just a bit longer.

but then you realize that irresponsibly, suguru has fallen asleep with two toddlers in the house—one of which (you eye a certain blonde) is a bit of a troublemaker.

“negative four?” he gasps, wounded.

“negative four,” you affirm, shaking your head in disappointment.

“i couldn’t help it,” he pouts, “it’s soothing having two sets of hands play with your hair.”

“well, good luck getting this mess out of your hair,” you chuckle, turning to step out of the bathroom—but suguru is quick. his hand snatches your wrist as soon as you take a step.

“hang on,” he tugs, pulling you back in, “you’ve gotta help me with this.”

“i thought you said it was fine,” you raise a brow, “it shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“i haven’t see you all day,” he insists, “can’t i have a relaxing shower with my wife as she washes my hair?”

“i showered this morning. see you after yours though—”

“okay fine,” he deflates, rolling his eyes as he looks off to the side, “this is….gonna take a while to fix.”

you grin victoriously. suguru grumbles under his breath.

“alright,” you poke his cheek with a satisfied smirk, “i’ll help you. if you say pretty please.”

——————

“daddy you changed your hair,” nanako whines in despair as soon as suguru steps out of the bathroom. you stifle a giggle as he looks down at her in alarm.

“sweetheart, daddy just had to shower and—”

“maybe he didn’t like it,” mimiko mumbles quietly from the side. her voice is glum—and like the doting mother you are, your smile drops as you feel your heart ache.

“what? that’s not true!” suguru sputters, “i loved it! mommy loved it too, right?”

the two girls turn to look at you—and because you have long realized that motherhood is the gracefulness of putting your children’s feelings above all else, even if it means lying straight through your teeth, you nod with exaggerated vigor.

“of course!” you say enthusiastically, “it was so unique! i’ve never seen daddy look so….pretty.”

suguru shoots you an unimpressed look as you bite your lip in amusement.

“he was a princess!” nanako brightens, a happy smile erupting over her lips. suguru grins as he melts, pinching the soft flesh of her cheek gently with a low hum.

“i was,” he nods, “wasn’t i beautiful?”

“oh, yeah,” you snort, “way too beautiful—you might dethrone me.”

“mommy we can make you a princess too—”

“who wants dinner?” you cut mimiko off quickly, smiling through the panic, “i bet everyone’s hungry!”

“me!” nanako raises her hand enthusiastically and you sigh in relief—crisis successfully averted. but only for now, you suppose. the devious look suguru gives you tells you this won’t be the last time the suggestion is offered to you.

“what a shame,” suguru sighs dramatically, “i wanted to see you all dolled up. maybe next time.”

and then he reaches down and pulls both girls into his arms, filling the room with giggles as he nibbles on their cheeks affectionately and saunters off to the dinner table. you can’t help but smile softly as you watch his retreating figure—suguru was made for fatherhood, you think, he fills the role so effortlessly.

and then….you hear a thump and a hissed curse under his breath in the distance.

“mommy, daddy said a bad word!” nanako calls, earning a panicked no i didn’t! from your husband. “now he’s lying,” she adds.

well….no one said he was perfect.

i just know nanako is simultaneously a daddy’s girl who also rats him out and tattles 24/7 bc she thinks it’s funny when he gets in trouble

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Anti-Romantic | CHAPTER ONE | 18+

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

THE LOVE FRUIT

“Mangoes. A criminally overlooked aphrodisiac. People call it the love fruit, you know.”

«SERIES MASTERLIST»

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader Genre: Non idol au, fluff, smut, romcom, drama, opposites attract Chapter Warnings: explicit sexual content, mentions of emotionally abusive ex, controlling friendships, heavy fantasizing, masturbation (m and f) graphic sex fantasy sequence (includes descriptions of intercourse), sitophilia (food play) Word Count: 16.3k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

“What is love?”

Hyunjin looks out at the expanse of eager minds in front of him, everyone blurring together in the darkened auditorium. He can’t see any of their faces, but it doesn’t matter. He’s only been on the stage for approximately thirteen seconds, but he already knows that they’re watching him in that familiar, delicious awe, quietly clawing at the sides of their seats in unbridled enthusiasm and desperation. And he can never blame them— Hyunjin’s kind of a catch. 

He tucks his hands into his navy bespoke Armani trousers, appreciating the feeling of the silky inner lining against his fingertips. Even with such a casual gesture, he’s the picture of elegance; tall, devastatingly handsome, and movements fluid yet calculated, like a prima ballerina. Hyunjin is the kind of beauty that poets waste their lives over, pining over the perfect arch of his cupid’s bow to the aristocratic slope of his nose. As classic as an Italian prince, as unique as the moon herself.

“No, but seriously. What is love?” Hyunjin repeats his question into the mic, once more gracing his enthralled viewers with the rich, seductive notes of his voice. “Is it an emotion, that signal in your brain? A cliche? A cult?”

The audience ponders his words with bated breath, and Hyunjin takes the opportunity to continue.

“Or maybe it’s all just… lust.” Hyunjin whispers the last word while holding eye contact with an unsuspecting victim in the front row. The girl trembles and blushes under his heated gaze, looking down at her shoes in an attempt to hide her frazzled smile. 

With a deliberate smirk, Hyunjin moves on to his next target in the audience. It can be anyone, yet another to fall for his endless charms. No one is immune. The cute reporter in the second row who will interview Hyunjin after he finishes his long awaited TED Talk. A wink. A lady in a big fur coat, old enough to be his grandmother. A beguiling smile. And even the stern looking security guard standing in the back. A brief, but loaded glance. Yep, Hyunjin doesn’t miss Guillermo’s cheeks turning red, even in this atrocious lighting.

A hesitant hand amongst the crowd slowly creeps upwards, bursting Hyunjin out of his momentary flirt bubble. “I think that love isn’t real.”

A smaller spotlight is immediately shined onto the timid speaker. It’s a boy in his early twenties, probably a junior in college, judging by his trendy sweatshirt and the freshness in his features. But that typical hopefulness is absent in his eyes, replaced with despair. 

Heartbreak. 

Hyunjin shoots the student a knowing smile. Because of his passion for the human mind, he had studied psychology in his own university days, before obtaining a doctorate and specializing in counseling— specifically, relationship counseling. He wears many different— and designer— hats: certified dating coach, therapist, and even researcher, when love needs to be approached as a neurological phenomenon in a laboratory setting. But his personal favorite role is being an expert on broken hearts. Something about being able to fix people satisfies the urge in Hyunjin to be the best, to be the brightest. What’s better than giving some of his light to someone who needs it?

“What’s your name?” Hyunjin steps closer to the edge of the stage, now fully focused on this poor fellow. Everyone else in the audience follows Hyunjin’s actions, curiously turning to get a better look of which lucky individual has been able to score a coveted interaction with Hyunjin. 

The boy clears his throat nervously. “It’s Jeongin.”

“Jeongin,” Hyunjin tests, liking the playful feeling of the syllables on his tongue. He decides that the name fits the young man perfectly. “Why do you think that love isn’t real?”

“Because if it can come and go so quickly, it can’t be real.” Jeongin squares his shoulders before sitting up, a new fire in his voice. “If love dies before it’s even born, it must be a joke.”

Well, well, well. 

Not only is this a broken heart, but this is a bitter broken heart— Hyunjin’s kryptonite, in the best possible way. Jeongin’s heart was soaring and then subsequently shattered, becoming one that Hyunjin is now dying to piece together, because there’s nothing he savors more than a challenge. 

“I’ll ask you this.” Hyunjin slips his right hand out of his pocket, running his fingers through his hair. In one smooth motion, the dark, tousled locks fall back into an alluring set of eyes. “Do you want to be happy?”

Jeongin shakes his head, visibly frustrated. “What?”

Hyunjin isn’t deterred. “Love isn’t limited to just one person, Jeongin. Not even people in general.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Love is simply what makes us happy. It’s our unscratchable itch. Our insatiable need. Our comfort in crisis.” Hyunjin takes out the tiny metal laser pointer in his pocket and directs everyone to gaze at the massive screen looming behind him, flipping through the presentation that he prepared himself. Most of the high profile speakers at TED throw that task over to their personal secretaries, but then again, Hyunjin isn’t most people. 

A bowl of soup. A plate of pasta. A dish of chocolate cake. A stacked tower of choux pastry puffs. His audience, as Hyunjin calculated, is bemused with his choice of slideshow content, although Hyunjin is infamous as a loveable eccentric. These are all pictures and no words at all. 

“Is your passion cooking? Could you do it for the rest of your life? Will you just combust if you can’t whip up this croquembouche right this moment? That’s love.” Hyunjin lingers on the image of the French confection. “Love is what makes our cold nights warm again, the very driving force that pushes us to be the greatest possible versions of ourselves.”

If Hyunjin was any other speaker, the same onlookers would burst into laughter and walk away, muttering that he had lost his marbles. Who would try to make a point about the most confounding concept in all creation— the very entity that even the Stanford Encyclopedia of Psychology hesitantly attempted to define— with a series of pictures that belong in an episode of Chopped, not freaking TED? No one except Hyunjin, and rightfully so. It’s the reason why they all keep their backsides glued to the velvet upholstery, respectfully silent and anticipating being enlightened. 

“Love can be platonic, love can be romantic, love can be anything in this whole universe. Love is what makes us human. It reminds us that life is worth it, that after all, maybe there’s something left to fight for.” Hyunjin gives Jeongin a small, but sincere smile. “It’s why I’ve committed myself to helping people find it, to protect it.”

Jeongin sits back in his seat in acceptance, and Hyunjin knows that even though the inferno has just subsided, not been completely put out, the flames probably aren’t so scorching anymore. Maybe he’s scored himself a new client. 

Satisfied, Hyunjin turns back to the rest of his audience hungrily waiting for his eloquent scraps. “I’m Hwang Hyunjin. But you might know me as the Love Doctor.”

There are only so many episodes of Celebrity Wedding Disasters you can binge on Youtube before you begin to feel sick of yourself. Yes, watching freaking Brad Pitt get dumped at the altar makes you feel better about your own hopeless situation. But does it actually help your hopeless situation? No, it does not. Because watching other people suffer the same life as you does not solve your own problems. They’re all still there, at the end of the day, when you come home to an eerily quiet apartment, or in the morning, when you stretch out on your bed just to feel like you’re being swallowed up by the empty space next to you. 

And now? The sound playing from your computer speakers starts to melt into a drone, and the artificial lighting of the videos on the screen blurs your vision, augmenting the sagging under your eyes. You haven’t gotten up from your little space in the corner of your living room in eight hours, resorting to hunching over your computer and surrounding yourself with snacks in case you got hungry. You’re clad in an old pajama set that’s too small for you and wrapped in a blanket that should have been put into the washing machine weeks ago. For the time since you gave up trying to work, you’ve been huddled in a fetal position on your couch, staring at your computer screen with no aim, no purpose.

Bashful rays of light peak through the gaps in the curtains drawn closed over the windows, and the air conditioner sputtered and shut down hours ago, after months of you putting repairs off. And your computer has died, but you’re too lazy to reach over to the outlet and plug your charger back in. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning, and every other healthy young person is probably out doing something productive or fun, definitely not being cooped up in their apartments after a myriad of trashy videos. But you count your blessings that you aren’t in the worst circumstance, because anything is better than dealing with—

The telltale trill of your cellphone knocks you out of thanking your stars, a cruel coincidence to the appreciation you harbored just moments earlier for the divinities above. The only people who would call you at a time like this— your time— would be the only people who you really, really didn’t want to see right now. You don’t even have to check the caller ID before you’re answering the phone, your signature snark prepared to lash out at any unwelcome dialogue. 

“What?”

“Good morning to you too, Y/N,” Irene chirps, irritating you even further. “Lovely weather today. I’m with Sana and Mina.”

First, she interrupts your quality time brooding on your own, and second, she has the nerve to be cheerful about it. You try not to lose it and just scream at her to fuck off. 

“Let’s skip the small talk, Irene. Can I help you?”

You don’t hate Irene, nor Sana and Mina, for the matter. You’re just tired of their presence in your life. Once upon a time, you were enthralled by these three pretty, wealthy, and perfect girls, letting them take you in and guide you through your youth. A tight-knit group since they were in diapers, the girls wouldn’t let just anyone into their circle, so the fact that they chose you to join them made you feel special. Being a part of them felt like being welcomed into a genuine friendship, a sisterhood. There were horror movie marathons snuggled together in your dorm rooms, gossip and advice sessions on the phone, late night drives with the music blasting on the stereo. 

But that admiration and belonging turned into exhaustion, over time, and they became no better than a stereotypical high school clique. They were suffocating you, filling you with regret of ever meeting them at all. They couldn’t respect that you were your own person, with your own emotions, and that you solely were entitled to governing your actions. Little things built upon each other, and you slowly began to detest them. You truly found out how eroded your relationship with Irene, Sana, and Mina was almost two years ago. You were heartbroken, but all they had told you was to patch up and move on. Showing feeling and falling apart was unacceptable to the “Golden Trio,” as you came to call them, because it was “unhealthy” to them. Complete and utter happiness was always the goal, and you couldn’t bog yourself or the others down. Rest, rinse, and repeat. You came to realize that you would rather reject the good parts of the relationship rather than have your imperfections be dismissed and your life be controlled.

Before replying to you, Irene is quiet for a moment, and you swear you can hear her whispering to the other girls. “Are you still in bed?”

“No.” Technically, you aren’t lying— you’re on the sofa. 

She sighs, seeing straight through your bullshit like she always did, the unspoken ringleader of the whole entourage. “It’s nearly ten in the morning, honey. Why don’t you come out to brunch with us in an hour or so?”

You roll your eyes. You hate when Irene calls you “honey”— it sounds sweet but has the most condescending undertone. “I’m busy.”

“Busy doing nothing. We need to talk to you. Please, Y/N. It’s important.”

Although having yet another fussy and feathery brunch with the Golden Trio is the absolute last thing you believe to be important, you know you have no other option. Irene will keep pestering you until you relent, so it’s better to save yourself the time and just get it over with. Balling up your fist, you reluctantly respond. “Fine.”

“Great! See you soon!” Irene trills, ending the call before you can even say goodbye. Not that you even wanted to, anyway.

With an enraged groan, you flop off of your stomach and open the windows, letting in some fresh air and sunlight. As you gaze outside of your window, observing the city slowly wake up, all you want to do is wallow in your self pity and frustration. For the longest time, you’ve told yourself that you’re fine with being alone; love just isn’t in the cards for someone like you. So you threw yourself into your job, struggling towards achieving your dreams, but as of late, the path to your passion has become another burden in your life. 

Sighing, you shake away your thoughts and tidy up the living room, already put off by the microscopic chip crumbs on the coffee table and the way the throw pillows are strewn about on the rug. After everything is back in place, you make your way over to your room, silently noting that your sofa stay at least meant that you didn’t have to make your bed today. You take a shower and don yourself in your typical uniform of straight jeans, sneakers, and a boxy blazer. Cute, practical, and unassuming. 

Quickly, you scarf down some toast and orange juice, because you definitely will not be able to afford even half of the menu items at the usual restaurant that the Golden Trio dines at for brunch. Before you lock your apartment and leave, you check yourself out in the mirror in the small corridor that houses the entrance.

“Just in and out,” you say to your reflection. “Breathe.”

The drive to brunch is less than fifteen minutes. However, you make a few unnecessary turns around the block in your second-hand Subaru, not ready to face the Golden Trio just yet. 

At exactly eleven, Irene’s profile picture— a headshot taken by a professional photographer— pops up on your phone screen. You ignore it and swiftly find a parking spot among all of the luxury cars, muttering to yourself. The Terrace is an upscale eatery that the Golden Trio frequents for weekend brunches, and you’re unfortunately roped into their plans more often than not. You walk into the restaurant, dodging a businessman in a costly-looking suit and a group of renegading TikTok influencers trying to take pictures. You take your time greeting Keeho, the hilarious UCLA student who hosts at The Terrace during the weekends. And then you scan the outdoor dining patio, as if you don’t already know the location of the Golden Trio’s preferred table by the edge of the patio, the one with the perfect view of the Hollywood sign in the distance.

“Y/N!” Sana gasps in faux surprise as you take your seat next to her. “So nice of you to join us… thirteen minutes late.”

You clench your jaw and force a smile. “Oh, well, you did just call me an hour ago, so.”

Sana returns your sarcasm with an aggressive beam, showing off all of her perfectly aligned, blindingly white teeth. Mina watches the venomous exchange in amusement, while Irene just rolls her eyes.

“Let’s get to the point, ladies.” Irene leans forward, and the other two follow suit, like they always do. 

You stay put in your chair, comfortably leaning back, like you always do. “I’d love to know why you called me to brunch, Irene. You know this isn’t my scene.”

“Nothing besides your damn computer is your scene,” Mina retorts, sipping on her mimosa. Irene purses her lips to hide her grin, while Sana openly cackles.

You glower at them, saying nothing. The Golden Trio sat around the array of gourmet dishes like hens around a feeding hopper, craning for the best cuts and chances of picking on you, as usual. 

“Can you just stop wasting my time and tell me why I’m here?” You take a swig of water, already counting down the minutes until you can make up an excuse and leave early.

The girls exchange knowing glances before Irene zeroes in on you. Even though she’s the oldest out of all four of you, she still looks the most stunning, with her cherry lips and elegant features.

“Y/N, we’ve been thinking that it’s time for you to find someone.” Irene reaches across the table and grasps your hands, making you cringe in surprise. 

You raise an eyebrow at Irene, already dreading what path this conversation is taking. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Irene delicately cuts into her vegetable omelet, taking a small bite. “We just want you to be happy. And we know that it’s been hard, ever since Jisung.”

At the mention of your ex-boyfriend, you wrench your hands out of Irene’s grip. “Don’t you dare bring him up.”

Mina smacks her lips, nonchalantly reapplying her magenta lipstick. “I told you that she’d be angry.”

Irene sighs, massaging her temples. “Be reasonable, Y/N. This is for your own good. You’ve been alone for too long.”

“That is not for you to decide.” You nearly want to laugh out loud at this point. “This is my business. Not yours.”

But then again, the girls have never been able to respect your own feelings. You are their puppet to string along and their doll to dress up. To them, you’re not a real human being, capable of making your own decisions— both good and bad.

Two years ago, you were dumped by your first and last boyfriend, Park Jisung. It was a traumatizing relationship, to say the least. For all your life, you’ve struggled with romance and just the whole idea of intimacy, of getting close to someone and truly letting them see you. Jisung had taken your fragile heart, the one you had so cautiously extended to him, and shattered it on the ground. 

The months you were with him were so full of emotional abuse on his part, that by the time you caught him cheating on you, you weren’t even surprised. You’d pathetically begged him to stay, crying that you’d forgiven him, but after his initial apologies, he’d left you. What made you the angriest wasn’t the anguish he had caused you. It was how he’d gotten the last word, breaking up with you and leaving you behind to rot. You swore that you would never let someone do that to you again. Everyday, you go to bed alone and wake up alone. Every single day, and you don’t have any intention of changing that.

“Of course not,” Sana says, stabbing viciously at her eggs and making you wince. “But you know, appearances matter.”

Irene shakes her head. “Honey, this lonely, mopey look doesn’t suit you. Johnny says that people are talking, saying that you’re some sort of recluse.”

You scoff, blood boiling at the thought of Irene’s fiancé. He grew up on his father’s bottomless wallet and was no better than any stereotypical rich playboy. All he did was run his mouth and on occasion, his damn country club that you couldn’t even afford to step inside.

“She kind of is a recluse,” Mina interrupts. “Like, just get a life, maybe?”

Mina’s words sting, like they always do. But you refuse to give her the satisfaction, instead answering Irene. “I couldn’t care less about Johnny Suh and what his useless friends at the club are saying. I’m fine how I am.”

Sana dabs at her mouth with her napkin, careful not to smudge her makeup. “You’re not, though.”

Irene glares at Sana, shutting her up, before turning back to you. You recognize the look in her eyes; that soft, cajoling pull that makes anyone do her bidding. That look is why you had not left this toxic company yet, but you’re starting to feel the effect of it slowly wear off.

“Y/N. Just hear me out.” Irene sorts through her violet Kate Spade tote bag, before pulling out a business card and handing it to you.

In spite of yourself, you take the card, feeling the thick, rich quality of the paper, and the gold lettering.

“Dr. Hwang…” You read out loud. “‘The Love Doctor?’ What the hell?”

“He’s a relationship therapist and dating expert. He also runs a matchmaking service and coaches his clients.” Irene explains.

“I have eyes. I can read the card, Irene,” you spit out, turning the paper around in your fingers. “And I definitely don’t trust anyone recommended by you. Especially not some corny weirdo called the ‘Love Doctor.’”

“Oh, get over yourself, Y/N. I know a billion trainwrecks that Dr. Hwang has fixed.” Mina shudders in thought. “He’s pretty good, you know?”

“No, actually. I don’t know. I don’t know anything about this stupid Love Doctor.” You grind your teeth, desperately trying not to slap some sense into Mina. “I’m not going to trust a stranger with all of my thoughts… my fears, my hopes.” 

“This is such a waste of time,” Sana whines, getting up from her seat and smoothing out her dress. “I’m going to go talk to Chris. BRB, girls.”

Sana flounces away in the direction of the hot bartender mixing and pouring drinks for patrons. Mina rolls her eyes, picking at her acrylic nails.

“She literally has a boyfriend,” Mina huffs, before getting up and following after her. 

You turn back to Irene. “Is that how you want me to be? Both Sana and Mina are in relationships, except one pretends to not have a boyfriend, and the other is too bitchy to care about hers.”

“You’re not wrong.” Irene lets out a hearty chuckle, tracing the rim of her champagne flute. “But no one outside of our circle really knows about what’s going on with them, behind the scenes. They’re still perfect.”

“Why does it matter so much? Being perfect? Why does it matter so much to you if I am?” You question her, at a loss.

“I care about you.” Irene folds her hands in front of her plate. “You’re my friend.”

Friend.

That word takes you back to a few years ago, when you weren’t able to find a date to the frat party Johnny threw when you were all in college. You failed to follow Irene’s instructions, and as the expected result, Irene didn’t bother saying anything to you. You felt her anger through her silent treatment, as you stood by the door, feeling like a loser. You watched the rest of the Golden Trio giggle with their own dates, and Irene— no matter how big of a crush she used to have on Johnny before they became an item— was staring at you all night, soaking in your shame and unhappiness. You should have realized back then that the Golden Trio was just gilt. At least, you have now.

You snort in wry amusement, grabbing your keys and slapping down a fifty on the table, your general portion of the meal you didn’t even partake in. “I don’t know what I am to you, but I’m definitely not your fucking friend.”

Ignoring Irene’s pleas hitting your retreating back, you leave The Terrace, vowing never to go back.

On the weekends, you usually either work from home or aimlessly surf the internet. Either way, you’ll be staring at your computer until your eyes hurt. Today, however, you’re determined to prove that you can take a day off and enjoy it. It’s why you walk out of the luxury salon after being scrubbed, steamed, waxed, plucked, and primped all over your body. You don’t even want to think of how expensive it all was, completely disregarding the shiny $200 acrylics adorning your nails. 

You spend the rest of the day browsing a vintage bookstore on the Los Angeles marina, devoutly avoiding the romance section like you always did. After splurging on a set of horror novels by the latest trending author, you decide to go home and relax— just because you aren’t outside doesn’t mean you’re moping around, unlike what the Golden Trio believes. 

Who needs some hotshot Love Doctor when you’ve got Stephen King?

Sitting back on your couch with your book, you kick out your legs in front of you and attempt to unwind. But of course, you’re one line into the first page when your thoughts get the better of you. You glance across the open-concept layout of your apartment and over at your handbag, which is haphazardly strewn onto your bed; the business card that Irene gave you seems to be an incessant force in your mind. After a few seconds of trying to fight the urge to not let your curiosity best you, you give up, rolling off the sofa and rummaging through the bag to find the card.

Palming the small piece of paper, you settle onto your bed on your stomach, dimming the lights and logging into your computer. You type in the website address listed on the card into Google, impatiently tapping on the mouse. Finally, the page loads.

Your vision is blessed by a soft palette of pinks and beiges, a sparkling layout, flashy buttons and graphics, all designed to reel in even the most technologically inept grandparents. But that’s not what you’re enticed by: a giant picture of the most beautiful man that you have ever laid eyes on is pasted onto the main cover of the website. Immediately, you read further only to find out that this total babe is the Love Doctor that Irene couldn’t shut the fuck up about.

You zoom in on the bio printed below the image, devouring it like the King novel you should be reading instead right now. “What the…?” 

Dr. Hwang Hyunjin is a lot of things: a relationship therapist, intimacy expert, dating coach, psychology researcher, and etc. But the title that truly encapsulates his essence is: the Love Doctor, the savant who leads his clients through the pains and triumphs of life, loss, and of course, love. 

After graduating from Columbia University summa cum laude and obtaining his doctorate in psychology at Stanford, Dr. Hwang founded SeoulSpark, a practice dedicated to providing guidance and opportunities for any with those special ailments of the heart. The rest of Dr. Hwang’s credentials and outstanding achievements are listed below. In his freetime, Dr. Hwang loves to write poetry, go horseback riding, and take long walks on the beach. 

Appointments must be reserved through the ‘Bookings’ page. Dr. Hwang and his associates may be requested on the basis of availability. 

A few minutes of getting sidetracked in an internet stalking session alerted you to how in addition to overseeing his own private practice and working there as a therapist and coach, Dr. Hwang also operates a clinical trial on the neuropsychological approach of studying the nature of love at the National Institutes of Health. And to top it all off, he comes highly recommended by Selena Gomez in her latest Vogue interview— turns out, he’s the one who helped her move on from Justin Beiber and find a more gratifying partner— and has even met with Michelle Obama over tea on NPR’s Life Kit podcast to discuss the psychology of relationships. He’s a public figure, a celebrity of sorts himself, but has graciously rejected the title in favor of a more private life.

“Wow,” you murmur. “So he’s hot and smart.”

Irene and her sidekicks are wrong about a lot, but one thing they are right about is that you’re just absolutely lonely. Growing up, you were a hopeless romantic who constantly dreamed of a fairytale romance, romanticizing every aspect of your interactions with others. But a lifetime of being unlucky in love taught you that there is no such thing as true love. 

First, there was a series of unfortunately unrequited crushes in high school, all ending in you watching the boy you liked ride off into the sunset with someone else— usually a popular, pretty girl. Then came Holland, the cute boy in your calculus class who seemed like he actually returned your feelings. You both flirted for a while, before Holland ended up secretly coming out to you as gay. And of course, there was Jisung, the dirtbag who told you he loved you and then proceeded to break your heart. Love obviously isn’t on the cards for you.

Therefore, you’re now an insufferable pessimist when it comes to romance. You make fun of every couple you see in public, religiously watch wedding fails on Youtube, and absolutely hate romantic comedies. You stonily ignore the Tinder app that Mina once pressured you into downloading, even though it’s burning a hole into your phone.

You try to fill up that void in your heart by throwing yourself into work or participating in those idiotic “girls nights” that Irene throws, which usually just entail grinding up on drunk trust funders on someone’s yacht. 

But on a night like this, you’re bound to confront the truth: you are alone, and deep inside, you know you don’t want to be, no matter how much you pretend you don’t care. Which is why you let the computer cursor hover over the various appointment time slots, considering registration.

Wait, what? You shoot up from your previous position, sitting straight as every ounce of lethargy exits your body. You cannot actually be thinking of this guy’s services, especially when the recommendation came from Irene. But then again, do you really want your decisions to be determined by her? Do you care enough about spiting her that you’ll prevent your own happiness? What if this Love Doctor actually works?

With a groan, you go back to scrolling through Dr. Hwang’s bio once more, weighing your options, when you notice a link at the bottom of the page. You click on it, and it takes you to a video uploaded on Youtube. The bold, glaring red letters and the dark, dramatic backdrop alert you to a TED talk— and a very cherished one, too, with how thunderous the applause is when welcoming the speaker.

Intrigued, you sit forward, promising yourself that your assessment of Dr. Hwang’s TED talk will determine whether or not you’ll see both his physical and evidently intellectual gorgeousness in real life or not. However, from the very first question that he utters, you know your decision.

“What is love?”

You’re sweaty. You’d like to blame it on the unforgiving Los Angeles heat, but you once read that seeing a therapist is like owning your truth. You want to start being honest even before you meet Dr. Hwang, so you accept that the dampness under your arms is due to the fact that you are just really fucking nervous.

After tossing and turning in your bed all night, you tried your best to look presentable. You showered, blow-dried your hair, and put on minimal makeup reserved for special occasions. But the pretty yellow sundress and sandals that you chose— in the spirit of being symbolically optimistic— feel elementary right now, especially now that you’re setting foot inside the most glamorous office you have ever encountered. 

Upon observing the magnificently dripping crystal chandelier adorning the ceiling, marble flooring that you’re afraid of scuffing, and a jazz rendition of “Clair de lune” playing in the background, you’re convinced that this place is much too luxurious to be a shrink’s company space. Hell, it’s on the ninth floor of one of the ritziest buildings downtown. But, then again, you definitely weren’t expecting the person that Irene recommended to be this otherworldly adonis, instead of some kind of Karen ready to lecture you about having a “healthy love life” or “putting out”— yes, you do watch too much TV and have quite the imagination, so you try to keep your judgements and lofty expectations to a minimum. 

After signing-in with the receptionist— this sweet guy with freckles, sunny blond hair, and an even sunnier disposition— you sit down on the white leather sofa in the lobby. According to the brochure you swiped at the front desk, this place is so big that it has separate wings, like the freaking Hogwarts castle: one for therapy and coaching— or “guidance”— one for matchmaking services, and one for “health,” where clients and employees alike can rewind and socialize. Following a few minutes of rapidly swiping through the home screen and apps on your phone, trying to look occupied and definitely not intimidated by everything, the receptionist calls your name and directs you to Dr. Hwang’s office.

You know you’re incredibly lucky to have scored a session with Dr. Hwang, who’s obviously the most sought-after on the full list of all who work at SeoulSpark. Last night, when you were scouring SeoulSpark’s Yelp reviews (all of them were five-stars), people were raving about Dr. Hwang. Yet, as you walk through the luxe little corridor that leads you to the guidance sector, you can’t help but feel the regret that unfurls in your stomach. Perhaps you were subconsciously following Irene’s orders, that natural instinct to follow and not think still manifesting. Perhaps you were just enticed by Dr. Hwang’s visuals and repertoire. Or maybe, you just wanted to do something with your damn time for once, instead of constantly thinking about how sucky your life is. Either way, this all feels like a mistake, but it’s too late to turn back now, especially since the woman that you assume is Dr. Hwang’s assistant has spotted you.

She gets up from her desk. “Hello there! You must be Y/N.”

“That’s me!” You exclaim, in a way that probably seems too enthusiastic to be genuine. Your eyes trail to the name badge pinned to the lapel of her stylish cream-colored pantsuit. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Jang.”

“Likewise,” she says with a friendly smile that just accentuates her flawless features. 

Is everyone who works here just ridiculously attractive?

“Dr. Hwang is all ready for you.”

You quickly thank her, wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt and praying you don’t look scared. The last thing you want to do is freak out your potential therapist with your horrendous love life, even though his literal job is to deal with basket cases of romance. Taking in a deep breath, you warily place your hands on the grand pair of frosted glass doors adjacent to Ms. Jang’s desk and push them open. 

A cool gust of air welcomes you into Dr. Hwang’s office, and the first thing you notice is the blinding natural light flooding from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The one time you ever visited a therapist was immediately after the whole ordeal with Jisung; the cramped little room filled with wilted potted plants and dim light from a depressing yellow lamp had made you want to never see another therapist again. This place, however, looks more like one of those glitzy workspaces straight out of a Manhattan legal drama. You can practically see the dollar signs stamped onto everything here, from the panache but tasteful L-shaped sofa to the sultry modern art adorning the blush-colored walls. But the impeccable interior design is not what has got you temporarily incapacitated—

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

A voice as smooth as his honeyed skin and perpetual charm. A fresh breath of air in the merciless Californian heat that constitutes your entire life. A tidal wave upon the drowsy coastline of your heart. Absolute sin in your undeserving ears. You ponder what language even is, if you’ve never heard anyone articulate their entire aura like this in a mere jumble of words. Dr. Hwang smiles at you warmly— a sight that should remind you of a toasty cup of hot chocolate, but instantly spreads a raging, insatiable wildfire through your nerves. 

You speechlessly stay rooted to the spot like a damn oak tree as Dr. Hwang approaches you, with the controlled movement and dripping allure of a jaguar. As he nears you, you have to blink multiple times to adjust to how truly dazzling he is, and how the pictures of him online cannot even compare to his person. You would not hesitate to believe him if he claimed that he walked here straight off the runway, but his beauty is rapturous, less of an airbrushed model and more reminiscent of a Botticelian masterpiece. 

Maybe Charles Dickens was wrong— you see everything you want in the glittering multitude that makes up Hyunjin’s eyes. Big, soulful, contemplative. A gaze like a midnight reverie. A radiance like black diamonds encased in velvet. They reel you in like you’re silk thread and he’s a needle, like you’re an astronomer and he’s the entire galaxy. You take in the mole under his left eye, and it reminds you of a stray splatter of dark paint on an ivory canvas. It’s enchanting, like a lone star in the night sky.

“You’re good.” You barely manage, now focused on his lips that are just begging to be kissed. A delicate pink, like the lingering stain after eating cherries. Full and inviting, soft with the promises of a good time. On your own lips. On your skin. On your neck. 

Those pretty lips curve into an enigmatic smile, Cheshire-like almost. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

The way he pronounces your name so eloquently sends a spark straight through your body. You never thought much of your name, but with how Hyunjin says it, it might as well be one of those irresistible words that Pinterest logophiles save. It sounds lovely, ethereal, sublime. Just like him.

“And you as well, Dr. Hwang.” You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down, but instead, you get a breath full of his scent; he smells like a rainstorm over a field of jasmine. Tantalizingly petrichor, with a slightly floral and sensual edge. 

“Please, call me Hyunjin.”

“O-okay, Hyunjin.” A bewitching name for an even more bewitching man.

Hyunjin gestures for you to sit down on the sofa and positions himself on the chair behind his desk, a smoke-cracked glass piece arranged in front of a transparent wall that provides breathtaking views of downtown L.A. You can only imagine what the views are like at night— the city lights, of course. Definitely not of Hyunjin pushing you onto his costly desk and doing you in the dark.

“So, Y/N, darling,” Hyunjin begins, spreading his hands out on the desk in front of him. 

Darling?! Ohmyfuckinggod.

You cough. “Sorry?” 

“Tell me anything. Impressions, ruminations. Just be honest.”

That’s new and different. You thought Hyunjin would dole out the usual pleasantries, like “how are you” or “the weather is nice,” not ask you to “be honest.” What kind of person expects blatant candor after knowing them for literal seconds? Well, a therapist, probably. And a very eccentric one, at that. So you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind. 

“Everyone here seems so… happy. It’s weird.” The hot receptionist, Hyunjin’s secretary, and even the janitor wiping the floors in the lobby.

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, his eyes squinting into a crescent moon shape that you find very endearing. “Well, they seem happy because they are. Happiness isn’t rare.”

“Feels like it most of the time,” you mutter, your thoughts flashing over to work, Irene, and all of the times that you eat dinner alone. 

“That’s why you’re here, no?” Hyunjin folds his hands. “Talk to me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be asking me questions? And I answer them? Isn’t that what most therapists do?”

“I’m not like most therapists. This is how it begins.”

Of course you aren’t. 

As you hesitate, Hyunjin keeps quiet patiently while letting your thoughts unfurl. Maybe it was Jisung, or maybe it was being constantly let down by the people around you, but somewhere along the way, you lost trust in others— you wouldn’t ever let them see who you really are. Ever since, you’ve put up your guard walls, harboring a testy, stormy attitude that scares anyone away before they can ever leave you behind. You put up with the Golden Trio’s nonsense because although they practically used you for their own enjoyment, at least they had never withdrawn for you. You don’t hate yourself, but you don’t feel content with who you are. You never knew if you really would be. 

And you don’t know Hyunjin. To you, he’s the man whose photos you pored over on Google, the one who you held a sparse conversation for a matter of mere minutes. You shouldn’t want to be exposed in front of him, but you know you already are, with the way his piercing gaze seems to see right through you. For the first time, you don’t hate the feeling of being vulnerable. You don’t know if it’s the kindness in his bedroom eyes that haven’t strayed from you, or if it’s the warmth that even someone as regal as him exudes, but you embrace the feeling of security that his presence wraps you in. Like your inhibitions are drowning in the distant crevices of your mind. You don’t know what it is that compels you to tell this beautiful stranger anything, but for once, you don’t question it.

“I’m just so tired of my damn life.”

The words come out of you in a rush, a sob, almost, because it feels so good to finally say it out loud. You’ve kept your dissatisfaction inside of you for the longest time, just pretending that the grumpiness is part of your personality, not your sadness, because you’ve always been afraid of what people would say. But when you peek up at him, Hyunjin’s expression betrays nothing. Placid, and waiting for you to go on. So you do.

“Nothing seems to be working. I try, try, and try to do better at work, but lately, even my dream job feels like a burden. I don’t really have any friends. I’m single. I act like I’m fine, but I’m really not. I don’t want to feel like this, like I’m trapped. I don’t want to give Jisung that much power over me, but unfortunately, he does have it all.” A huge weight has been lifted off of your drooping shoulders, but the bitterness still remains on your tongue.

Hyunjin takes a moment to finish up whatever notes he’s jotting down in his cream-colored journal, before looking up at you. “And Jisung is your ex?”

You freeze. You didn’t even realize that you brought up Jisung, and even worse, you completely overlooked how he probably knows a lot more about you than you think. After registering for an appointment, you were redirected to fill out this short quiz filled with questions about your romantic history, your job, and basic information. Like a slightly intruding business dinner in the form of a questionnaire. You couldn’t finish the form without getting slightly tipsy on wine, because of how gut-wrenching it was reliving everything. You forgot that your coach would have access to your answers, after brushing it all off as a silly formality. And you really thought this would all be genuine.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief and skepticism. “You already know, Dr. Hwang. Why bother asking me? You have my questionnaire results. You think I’m hopeless. You’re just being polite.”

“Hyunjin,” he corrects, undeterred by your words. “And I actually don’t. I look at the results after I meet with my clients. I would rather garner my first impression of you on the person you really are, not through an online quiz.”

“Then how did you know that Jisung’s my ex?” 

Hyunjin’s eyes crinkle with tenderness. “It wasn’t very difficult. He hurt you, I can see it.”

You swallow harshly, overwhelmed both by the thought of Jisung and the way Hyunjin’s looking at you right now. Compassion, gentleness, understanding. A complete foil to the constant indifference and borderline aversion Jisung treated you with. Right now, you don’t feel ugly, even with your scars so raw, open. You feel seen. You realize that Hyunjin has a way of getting you to open up by saying very little.

“He was my first boyfriend. First love, first kiss, first… well, you know.” You pause, blushing at the words that have escaped your mouth, but continue in spite of your shame. To hell with it. “He made me feel wanted, for once. I mean, I’ve literally been a fake date for my gay ex-situationship, and the first time I tried to get into a real relationship, which was with my former neighbor, he ghosted me after two dates. And then he moved away. Jisung… he gave me everything I thought I needed.”

You look up at Hyunjin, unsure. The tears are already shining in your eyes, threatening to spill out. Hyunjin nods encouragingly, pushing you on. 

“We were together for almost a year. And the entire time, he gaslighted me into doubting myself. He always kept cheating on me, I knew that. But I finally caught him screwing his assistant in my bed, right before we broke up.” You close your eyes. “No, before he broke up with me. God, my friends were right. I am so pathetic.”

Hyunjin sets his pen down firmly on the glass table, making you open your eyes. His starry gaze is intense, like that all-too-familiar inferno settled inside of you. “Darling, those are no friends of yours. There’s nothing pathetic about believing in someone, for putting your faith in them. Don’t ever say that again.”

“Right. Because I didn’t tell him over and over again that I forgave him. I didn’t beg him to stay, when he said he was tired of me. When he wanted new things.” You let out a dry laugh. “When it was over, everyone acted like I fumbled. Hell, he works at SM Technologies. Rich, handsome, well-connected.”

“Fuck that hack. That’s not why you loved him, though,” Hyunjin insists, his explicit language surprising you. Even in this way, he seems more poised than you ever could be. “You loved him because he made you feel loved. He accepted you. You lowered your standards for him, and he used you.”

You turn your head away from Hyunjin, not wanting him to watch you cry. But you know he’s already seen the tears streaming freely down your cheeks. “So, are you supposed to help me move on from here? Find someone new? SeoulSpark has matchmaking services, right? I mean, it’s been two years, and I’m still not over it. Sorry I’m a fucking antiromantic.”

It’s Hyunjin’s turn to shake his head. “Darling, you’re misunderstanding me. I don’t help my clients find relationships. I don’t care if you walk out still single or if you’re polyamorous. I care that you’re happy, satisfied with who you are, romantically. I’m here to guide you through that. Let me help you.”

The tears that had dripped so effusively onto your skin dry as Hyunjin holds your gaze, studying your features and saying nothing. And then your stomach chooses that inopportune moment to grumble, and very loudly indeed. In that astoundingly mortifying moment, you swear to never, ever skip breakfast again.

Hyunjin clears his throat, rising from his seat. “Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink? Or eat, maybe?”

“Um, a mango?” You don’t know why, or how, but your brain just zeroes in on mangoes. You don’t even like the damn fruit. Who the fuck would specifically ask for mangoes, instead of something reasonable, like coffee, or tea? You glare up at the ceiling, cursing your emotional dry spell for making you act so embarrassingly. 

But Hyunjin just smiles. “Mangoes. A criminally overlooked aphrodisiac. People call it the love fruit, you know.”

You gulp. Now you’re imagining Dr. Hwang— er, Hyunjin— chopping up a bunch of whole mangoes like he’s in Fruit Ninja, before erotically eating each slice, licking at the flesh, juice slowly dripping down that chin sculpted by the gods. Two seconds ago, you were crying about your evil ex and now you’re dreaming about Hyunjin starring as some sort of a seductive sensei.

What the fuck?!

“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t know that.”

Hyunjin is unfazed by your awkwardness, simply walking over to the pink-pastel minifridge in the corner of his office and bringing out a paper bowl of unfortunately pre-cut mangoes that you accept gingerly. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” You cautiously place a cube of mango in your mouth.

Your eyes suddenly widen at the sweet yet tangy explosion of flavor on your tongue. Creamy yet juicy, refreshing yet indulging, just succulent on your lips. Hyunjin giggles at your amazed reaction to the fruit. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.” You chew on the tart skin of the mango and swallow. “Do you know where your secretary might have bought this?”

“Wonyoung didn’t buy it, I did.” Hyunjin grins, sipping on his own glass of water. “5-Star Grocery. I went just today, actually.”

You finish off the rest of the fruit in no time, swiping the mango residue on your fork clean with your lips. When you’re done, you look up from the bowl to see Hyunjin gazing intently at you. You were probably taking forever to eat, and he was waiting for you. “Oh, sorry about that. This was really good.”

Hyunjin shakes his head vigorously. “No, no, it’s not that.”

You curiously tilt your head at him, wondering what’s got him so worked up. “Did I say something, Dr. Hwa- I mean, Hyunjin?”

“No, you didn’t.” Hyunjin stands up and takes your bowl, throwing it away in the disposal for you. “Let’s get back to our conversation.”

You nod, your thoughts fluttering back to Jisung, the ache replacing the lust that reigned inside of you, moments earlier. “I have tried to see other people, but it’s been hard.”

“How so?” Hyunjin clicks on his pen, putting it in a position ready to write.

You toy with the hem of your dress, your face heating up. “I tried using Tinder. I even matched with this one guy, San. We got dinner. But later that night, when… when we were about to um, have sex, I just couldn’t. San was really nice and understanding about everything, but I felt so bad. I’ve only slept with one person before, Jisung, and I don’t know. It’s so humiliating.”

Hyunjin frowns. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. First, it’s normal to be wary of intimacy after a long-term relationship. And second, we all have varying levels of sexual comfort. You’ll find your own pace. Our sexuality is essential to our health, and there’s nothing humiliating about it.”

“It’s not like I’m not experienced, though,” you say quickly.

Hyunjin looks up from his notepad and raises an eyebrow at you. You sputter over your impulsive words and try to explain. “It’s just that I have trouble being vulnerable with others, both physically and emotionally. There was only Jisung. And he wasn’t that good at it, to be honest. But I thought it shouldn’t stop me from finding out by myself what I like. That’s all.”

For a second, you think Hyunjin will make fun of you, but he just solemnly nods. “Absolutely. I always tell my clients this. There’s nothing wrong with masturbating. It’s incredibly healthy, whether or not you’re in a relationship.”

You exhale shakily, your cheeks aflame. You know it’s his literal job, but you can’t help but feel both admiration and jealousy at how straightforward Hyunjin is while talking about sex. His whole aura seeps with confidence, like it comes easily to him. Your self-consciousness could never. “Right.”

He sighs in thought, scribbling into your notepad as you restlessly wait for him to say something, fidgeting in your seat. Hyunjin then sets his notepad aside, logging into his sleek Apple iMac computer and rapidly typing into it. “I have something for you to do, darling.”

You immediately tense at the thought of more work, especially if Hyunjin is going to be your grader. “Like, homework?”

Hyunjin laughs. “No. Think of it as a fun little task. Remember, nothing I ask you to do is obligatory. You choose to be here.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.” You square your shoulders like a soldier. Whatever your assignment is, you’re going to knock it out of the park and impress Hyunjin. Definitely because you look up to him as a person, not because you want him to rail you into the next century.

Hyunjin leans forward, like he’s about to indulge you with a delicious secret, and you find yourself doing the same. “I want you to write down on paper one thing you love about yourself every day of the week, starting today. Bring the sheet to me when we meet again next week.”

You sit back, your heart sinking while your mind wakes in panic. And of all things, the assignment has to be this. You could fib your way through it, of course, jotting down the stupid, trivial aspects of yourself that aren’t so bad. But considering it all, asking yourself that question would really make you face the ugly truth: do you even love yourself?

“Wait, what do you mean? Like, what does it have to be? Physical? Emotional? Professional? Personal? I don’t think—”

Hyunjin smoothly cuts you off. “Like I said, this is your choice to complete. And it can be anything you cherish about yourself. Anything. This is your opportunity to show-off.”

You shake your head, frustrated. “But why, though? I don’t get the point of this.”

“I need to be able to get an idea of what specific path will best fit you, whether it’s solo therapy to help your mindset and esteem, matchmaking to get you connected with individuals who complement you, or coaching to provide you with guidance in potential relationships. So for now, I want to get to know you. ”

“If you wanted to get to know me, you’d ask questions like, ‘what do you do,’ or ‘what’s your favorite color,’ Hyunjin,” you say, irked. “This is just going to be another thing I fail at.”

“Darling,” Hyunjin says, firmly but gently. “Your profession and favorite color, while intriguing, isn’t knowledge I need to work with you. The most important service of all is helping my clients’ self-perception and confidence in romance, and I need to know what level you are on. Take it slow, it’s okay. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

The familiar warmth spreads throughout your body. Compassion, gentleness, understanding. You harbor so much insecurity that it affects so much of your daily life. You don’t go out. You work yourself down and out. You wallow in your misery. You’re a pessimist who doesn’t believe in true love. And you receive endless judgment for it, because really, who wouldn’t be disgusted by someone like you? But being with Hyunjin feels different, because he is accepting you for who you are and promising you the guidance you’ve always needed. 

“We can assess what aforementioned action to take next week, when I’ve had time to assess you,” Hyunjin declares as you agree, ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook and writing down the task on it for you to take home.

And then you’re pulled back into reality. You’re well-educated and smart. You have a good job that pays well. You like to read Scientific American in your freetime, because sometimes, you would rather face the facts than meld into opinions. And you know exactly what’s happening right now. It’s barely been your first session with Hyunjin, and you’re already getting attached to him, because he’s giving you the kind of care and attention that you’ve been craving. It’s a phenomenon called transference, you know that. The butterfly garden flitting in your stomach is a mere sensory illusion, you know that. But you also know that you are feeling something. 

As Hyunjin hands you the slip of paper, his hands brush yours lightly, and you can’t help but exhale sharply at where his skin has made contact with yours. Maybe you’re touch-starved, but you can’t help but feel like a longing character in a Victorian romance novel. You look down at his hands as he retracts them. Large, smooth palms, and long fingers decked in silver rings. 

“But that will be all for now, darling.” 

God, he’s sexy.

“Really? Is that all?” You glance at the rose gold clock hanging on the wall behind you. It’s barely been thirty minutes. “We’re done so soon?”

Hyunjin grins at you, flashing those crescent moons once again. “I didn’t know you were that eager to stay here.”

You clear your throat, furiously blushing. “I mean, I thought the session would last longer. So I’ll come back next week then.”

“This was a diagnostic, darling. And yes, I’ll see you next week. You should make an appointment with Wonyoung before you leave.” 

Hyunjin beams at you pleasantly while you reluctantly grab your purse, and you briefly wonder if he looks just as lovely when his partner pleasures him— if he has a partner. But then again, there is no way someone as good-looking and sweet as him is single. The thought of Hyunjin fucking someone simultaneously sparks envy and turns you on, and you quickly shake it away.

“Thank you so much, Hyunjin. And um, I’m sorry if I came off as kind of coarse, it’s… I’m working on it.” You tilt your head towards him, hoping he gets what you’re trying to convey. You’re not amazing with words, or controlling your emotions very well, and any product of that today was not meant to hurt him.

“You did nothing wrong. I’m glad you decided to come here, Y/N.” Hyunjin walks you across his expansive office.

“And I love your nails, by the way.” Hyunjin states, his gaze pointed down at your hands. “Pink’s my favorite color.”

You flush a pink that’s deeper than the object of his compliments. Pink, huh? You wonder about what other pink things that Hyunjn may like. Pink roses? Raspberries? Flamingoes? You’d bring them all to him if he asked.

Hyunjin graciously opens the door leading to the corridor for you, and you shoot him a small smile, as he returns it. His hand skims the small of your back as he leads you out, and you pray that you don’t look like a lustful maniac. Unaware of your internal frenzy, Hyunjin waves goodbye to you as he lets in his next client waiting outside and shuts the door behind him.

Wonyoung asks you a plethora of questions about your availability next week, your mind stays on Hyunjin while you schedule your next appointment. You don’t waver even when you exit the SeoulSpark and unlock your car in the visitor parking lot, collapsing into the seat in a daze. Even when you find yourself plugging in directions on Google Maps to find the quickest route to 5-Star Grocery, your thoughts don’t stay from Hyunjin. Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin.

You take your time strolling through the multicolored aisles of 5-Star, blankly gazing at all of the overpriced foodstuffs while daydreaming about the way that Hyunjin’s hand had accidentally brushed against you, even if it was inadvertent. You want his fingers on your body. In your body. In your mouth. Anywhere, and everywhere. 

You brighten up as you near the produce section and spy the hefty crate of what you came for: very expensive imported Indian mangoes. But without a second thought, you place a generous pile of the fresh fruit into a plastic cover and put it into your cart. And you swear you can catch the lingering scent of Hyunjin from when he was here earlier today. Rainstorms. Jasmine. Danger. You practically combust at the thought of Hyunjin scouring the baskets of mangoes for the very best picks with those crescent moon eyes, wishing it was you instead that he could have been gazing so purposefully at. On the way out, like some kind of a divine coincidence, you notice that a local florist has set up their stand at the entrance of the grocery. As you approach, the overflowing clay pots of jasmine crowd your sensations.

The drive back home feels like it lasts hours, when in reality, the store is only a few minutes away from your place. As soon as you’re inside your apartment, you throw open all of the window shutters, dismissing the ominous weather forecast on the radio. A much bigger tempest brews somewhere else. The late evening breeze through your windows is like a pirate sailing into your mind, hoarding your sanity and coaxing in all of your disgraceful thoughts. And you welcome the ship like a safe harbor because it’s been far too long since you’ve ever felt this outrageously alive.

The tiny light in your kitchen provides some leeway for you to work, as you stow away your groceries in the fridge and bring out the glass cutting board that your menace of coworker gave you as a gag gift; you would burn the whole house down before cooking anything, and he knows that. Yet, you kind of feel like goddamn Gordon Ramsay as you cut through the mango dexterously to produce those perfect cubes that Hyunjin presented you with.

With a sigh, you collapse into one of the mismatched chairs at your dining table. You once slaved away into late nights at this table, blue light glasses perched on your nose while you were engrossed in lines of code. Nowadays, you sleep late for less productive reasons or just because you are in a destructive mood and planning your future world takeover. But you have a feeling that might change soon.

Slowly, you put a piece of the sweet mango in your mouth, savoring the saccharinity and longing for it to pervade all aspects of your life beyond your palate. You find that it tastes a little less delectable because Hyunjin isn’t here with you, but you finish the entire bowl of fruit nevertheless. Still not satisfied, however, you bring out a second mango, still searching for that spark you had felt earlier.

This time, you don’t even bother cutting the fruit, instead breaking the skin of the mango with your teeth and allowing the juice to leak onto your tongue. A little better, but you wish you were biting down on Hyunjin’s plush lips instead. You feel like you’ve been hexed by the Love Doctor, because there’s no chance that a romantic Scrooge like you is fantasizing about the emotional and physical reincarnation of Aphrodite. 

Yet, he must have shot you with his quiver of arrows, rendering you clinically insane, because as you reach for your third mango, you feel your free hand trailing down to the place between your thighs that’s begging for your touch. You spread your legs so that your knees are facing out on either side of you, and your dress has now ridden up to your hips, exposing your now wet cotton panties for no one to see. 

But you imagine that he’s watching, stroking himself and getting off along with you. Not even bothering to slide them off, you push your panties to the side and finally press your fingers against your aching cunt. Chewing on the delicate skin of mango, you slide your fingers through your drenched folds, thankful to finally get a chance to relieve yourself. As you concentrate on the fruit’s taste, you wonder what Hyunjin would think of your own, sucking on his own fingers after fucking you with his pretty hands. He’d push you down to get a complete taste, attaching his mouth to your pussy to get both an idea and a release.

Moaning out loud, you circle your clit, enjoying the flickers of pleasure coursing through you. Not minding the juice now dripping down your chin and onto your collarbone, you pull down the front of your dress, freeing your breasts. You gently pinch your nipple with your left hand and let out a small gasp, craving for Hyunjin to be the one inducing such sinful pain into you.

“Just like that, darling.”

“Oh God, Hyunjin!” You call out his name and squeeze your breast, now fucking yourself on your fingers while simultaneously grinding the heel of your palm against your clit for that delicious extra friction. 

“So good for me.”

Waves of ecstasy wash over you as you ride out your high, sloppily thrusting and circling your hips on your soaked hand. You come to the final thought of Hyunjin pushing a slice of mango down the valley between your breasts, tracing and cleaning the sticky juice with his tongue. And there’s the spark, igniting a whole flame of fulfillment deep inside of you.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you fix your dress and get up from your chair, taking out a paper towel to wipe the mess of your arousal and fruit juice on the seat. Your cheeks burn with the after effects of your release, and yet, you don’t feel any shame. Instead, there’s a strange sense of liberation that you are starting to come to terms with.

Clipping up your hair, you make your way over to the desk in your bedroom and take out a fresh sheet of paper. Armed with a glass of freshly puréed mango juice and accompanied by the tantalizing scent of your jasmine plant, you pull out a pink gel pen and let the words pour out.

“So, Y/N. Were you able to do what I asked?” Hyunjin cocks his head expectantly.

You reach into your handbag and pull out the paper, passing it to Hyunjin with trembling hands. “I did it.”

You came to SeoulSpark straight from work, deliberately skipping your usual jeans and blazer combination for a skinny pencil skirt paired with a powder-pink button down that matches the walls of Hyunjin’s office. Slightly transparent silk stockings disappear under the skirt, which skims the top of your knees. 

When you were pulling on your barely-worn cream slingback pumps in the morning, you had wondered what this entire outfit was for. You had stood up and gazed critically into the mirror, and all you could feel was empowerment. Because for the first time, it felt like something you were truly doing for yourself. You weren’t proving a point. And you knew you weren’t dressing for Hyunjin either, but rather, because of him. He made you question if you were treating yourself right, and you wanted to answer it well. The pink blouse was a playful touch that you couldn’t help.

Hyunjin takes his time reading through the paper, and this time, you’re the one observing his every reaction, from the quirk of his brow to the way he occasionally licks his lips to wet them. The latter action sparks a memory of one week ago, when you indulged yourself in absurdly fantasizing about those very lips all over you. You press your legs together, ignoring the dull throb in between, and try not to think of it, focusing on the unsexiest things your mind can come up with. Climate change. Warts. Donald Trump.

“This is a good list to start with.” Hyunjin looks up at you, eyes twinkling. “All true, right?”

You nod, feeling a shy smile erupt on your face. “Yeah, I was kind of surprised with how doable-ish it was.”

“May I ask how? If I recall, you were quite opposed to this task last week.” Today, Hyunjin sits on the sofa with you instead of at his desk— too close, yet so far. 

You finger the one of the buttons on your blouse, mind already on the truth. But of course, you would never tell Hyunjin how masturbating to the thought of him made you feel aligned with your own body and sexuality, and maybe a little more willing to dare to think of what you like about yourself. Now that would be inappropriate.

“I just did some thinking,” you finally say after much deliberation. 

Hyunjin crosses one of his long legs over the other. “Interesting.”

“I guess.”

“If I ask you a question, will you answer it honestly?” Hyunjin lightly taps on his notepad with his pen, waiting for you to speak.

You give him a suspicious look. “Depends on the question.”

“Are you happy with yourself?”

His question confounds you, and yet, in a way, you also know why he asks it. A basic list of things that you like about yourself isn’t enough to turn over that table of insecurity and stagnant mindset that has hurt you for too long. It makes you understand that everything wrong in your life is because of an intrinsic cause, that ugly voice inside of you. Not because of something else… or someone. 

“I don’t think I am.” You bite your lip. “But I want to be.”

“Can you tell me why?”

You groan. “It stems from how I feel so undesirable right now. Like, I don’t want to be lonely, but I am. I mean, I’m kind of a shooting star for everyone. A fleeting moment of love, of comfort. I really wish I could be the fucking sun.”

Hyunjin leans forward swiftly, grasping your hands and startling you with their warmth. “You’re not a shooting star. And you’re not just the sun either. You are the whole solar system, honey. Please don’t ever think otherwise.”

Damn. The solar system? 

You hate when Irene calls you “honey,” but on Hyunjin’s tongue, it sounds loving, sweet, not like a patronizing ridicule. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, trying to ignore the way your heart is hammering in your chest. “But you’ve known me for, like, two seconds.”

If you don’t know any better, you would say that Hyunjin almost looks taken aback. But his features smooth over quickly. “Darling, I’m a professional. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. You have a good heart. There is no reason why you can’t have everything you want.”

You try to focus on his words and take them in, but Hyunjin— simply the sexiest thing you have ever set eyes on— has deemed you beautiful. It’s both flattering and heart-fluttering, to say the very least. “Well, why don’t I? Why don’t I have everything I want, then?”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “You just haven’t met the right person for you.”

You inhale at the husky tone of his voice. “And you’re going to help me with that, Hyunjin?”

“Yes. You don’t need therapy, definitely. The first step I take with my clients is acceptance. That comes with therapy, but you were able to identify the problem and acknowledge it. I say we address it now.”

“What do you recommend we do, then?”

Hyunjin clears his throat and flips to a new page in his notepad. “I’ll be your dating coach.”

You quirk your eyebrow at him. “What does that entail?”

“We need to fortify your self-esteem, first of all. So, confidence coaching. You’ll be getting weekly sessions with me in which I provide you with tips and guidance, almost like interactive lectures. In due time… you can be set up in our matchmaking office, if you’d like.” Hyunjin scribbles into his trusty notepad. “You made a good start with the list. Let’s get better.”

And you do. The next few weeks are like a bandaid on your wounded heart and mentality. Hyunjin helps you through building up your confidence, never once pushing you to run, only walking by your side. You expect him to give you information on pickup lines, how to dress, appropriate forms of touch, the science of love, and anything else that may improve your dating prospects, but much of his coaching is simply focused on you. You get one-on-one seminars from Hyunjin on the art of conversation, in which he guides you through being yourself, instead of being who you think you need to be. Hyunjin structures elaborate role-playing scenarios and critical thinking exercises in which you are coaxed out of your shell. And most significant of all, he teaches you that the most important relationship you can have is the relationship with yourself. 

You have always known that Hyunjin isn’t just any regular relationship therapist— or dating coach, or intimacy expert, or whatever other fancy moniker he adopts— but throughout your meetings, you come to feel like the boundaries have become blurred. Since the first time you saw him, he was able to read you like one of the glossy magazines stocked in the main lobby. But you slowly notice the fine details about him as well, from the neverending stack of classic poetry books on the white oak wall mount to how he bites his nails when he’s deep in thought.

The fascination you harbor morphs into a full-blown schoolgirl infatuation, resulting in you stalking his Instagram page and being totally invested in all of his old interviews, scouring for information on his dating status (no, you couldn’t find out if he is single or not). You’re completely enamored with Hyunjin and how free you feel around him. But one thing that doesn’t change is your burning desire for your unattainable guide, and the way you have to relieve yourself with your vibrator as soon as you rush home after your appointments.

You are sure that every single time you see Hyunjin, you’re being embarrassingly obvious, but he maintains his professionality, betraying nothing about himself except for a disarming smile. So you stay quiet, keeping your Hyunjin-affliction to yourself. But even in the face of your inappropriate struggle, for the first time, happiness doesn’t seem so foreign to you.

In spite of the honeymoon phase of your crush, in which you have blissfully daydreamed about Hyunjin, you still have your job to get to— gone is the racy maroon lingerie set you bought to spice up your solo sessions. However, your boring work suits and blazer-and-jeans combinations have been pushed to the back of your closet, in favor of you walking into the office wearing tight sheath dresses and skirts that show off your curves. You always believed that getting dolled up was strictly for special occasions or your man— when you thought you had one— but lately, you’ve been loving dressing up for yourself and enjoying the feeling of being sexy and liberated.

“Y/N! Get your ass over here!”

Your carefully curated mind bubble is rudely burst open when your boss yells for you from his office, not minding if the peace of the rest of the workers is preserved or not. You tie your hair up and dust off your skirt, making your way over to your boss’s office for what feels like the millionth berating you know you will receive.

“Yes?”

Mark Lee— your boss, who in your opinion, makes Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada look like a saint— turns around in his cushy Arhaus swivel chair, raising his eyebrows at your harried stats. Most people know him as the eccentric but lovable CEO of NCT Corporation, one of the world’s most prolific venture capital firms. However, you know him to be a truly two-faced monster that takes a sadistic pleasure in seeing the people beneath him crushed.

 “Is something wrong? Because there shouldn’t be.”

You force a smile. “You called me here, Mark.”

He lets out a mirthless guffaw, slapping his thigh. “Right.”

You roll your eyes as he shuffles through the papers on his desk and produces a small Manila envelope for you. Mark holds it out to you, and you take the packet.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Curious, you tear open the envelope and pull out a thick piece of stationary paper, an invitation to a networking event for tech entrepreneurs. Your pulse immediately begins to pick up, and you even dare to begin to dream of attending this golden opportunity. “Is this for me?”

“Kind of.” Mark clasps his hands together. “You’re planning this party!”

Your hesitant smile melts away. “What? I’m not your assistant, Mark. You already have one.”

“I know…” Mark trails off, popping a gummy bear into his mouth as he starts to spin around in his chair. “But no one is more passionate than you here, so you should do it.”

“But I’m busy with my actual job. I should be going to this party, not planning it! You know that.” You feel the frustration rise up in your chest like a tsunami, and you struggle to keep it at bay. “Come on, Mark. What the hell?”

Mark narrows his eyes at you, chewing on his fifth gummy. “No profanity, please.”

You nearly ball up the invitation and throw it onto Mark’s face. “You literally just screamed at me to get my ass in here.”

“I know, I’m hilarious.” Mark snickers, crumpling up his gummy bear packet and attempting to shoot it into the wastebasket on the other side of the room. When he misses, his expression sours and he glares at you. “You should really check out the instructions I sent you and get to work. Even some SM Tech officers will be in attendance. For example, the director of the Dream division.”

Your heart drops. “What?”

Mark smirks malevolently, leaning closer towards you. “You know him, right? Jake, was his name? Or was it Jisung?”

You grind down on your teeth, fuming. Mark is just trying to rile you up, and it’s really working. He knows perfectly well that Jisung is your ex-boyfriend, as both Jisung and him are golf buddies at their exclusive course in Pasadena. However, he loves to play dumb to get a reaction out of you, and you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

You swallow back all of the disgusting insults you wish you could hurl at him, if you were braver and not hanging on to your job by a thread. “Don’t recall. I’ll take care of the party.”

You turn on your heel and march out of Mark’s office, purposefully slamming the door hard on the way out. You hear Mark’s cackling behind you, but you don’t dare to look back, because you don’t know what you’ll do. You slide into your cubicle once more, and have to resist the urge to turn over your whole desk like Wreck-It Ralph.

Years ago, in your final year of college, you founded ITEM Technologies with one of your classmates for your senior project. You hadn’t expected your professor to be so impressed that she submitted your portfolio to California’s biggest entrepreneurship competition, and you definitely didn’t expect for it to win first place, which meant you got access to a whole network of potential investors for your start-up. You had already accepted a job offer to be a software developer at NCT, but the thought of becoming your own boss through ITEM pulled at you like anything. Securing funding for ITEM through SM Technologies would be the final key in the system of locks keeping you from your dream, and the exclusive invitation to CODA— Silicon Valley’s biggest annual networking lunch for start-ups— was the ticket.

However, the day before the event, Jisung had broken up with you, and you had forgotten all about CODA, instead sleeping in after a whole night of crying. Later, after you woke up and realized what you had done, you found out that SM’s latest investment would be in Dream, a growing media company headed by none other than your new ex, Jisung. In twenty-four hours, he had both killed your dreams and your heart. And in due time, without proper funding, ITEM Tech would eventually fail, like many other promising but ill-fated start-ups.

And now? Jisung is living it up in your dream job while you’re groveling in the footsteps of your nightmarish excuse of a boss. Just touching a keyboard once filled you with so much joy, but now, you would rather smash it into bits before pressing a single key. Now you have to map out some stupid party for other start-ups. You’re a developer, not an event planner. You glare up at the ceiling, as if asking a higher power for an explanation for your crappy life. A moment later, your computer pings with a new email.

Like he’s a telepathic deity, Hyunjin has sent you a GIF of a baby llama waddling around a small pen, with text below that reads, “keep calm and llama on.” In spite of yourself, you laugh to yourself, and without thinking, you type in a response thanking him and ending in a winking emoji. Right after you send it, you fill up with regret. Was that inappropriate? The emoji? Too much? With an exasperated sigh, you stand up from your desk, shutting down your computer and heading over to the elevator, punching in buttons for the next floor. However, as soon as you open the door to the office of the one person who could probably talk some sense into you right now, you regret it. Afterall, he’s your part-time friend and full-time menace of a coworker.

“Fuck… don’t tease me like that when I’m not there,” Minho groans, before sighing wistfully into his phone. “I’ll be home soon.”

You silently gag, mentally slapping the shit out of yourself for walking in on a phone sex session, of all things. Minho hadn’t answered when you knocked on his door, so you had just assumed that he needed to be woken up from one of his notorious naps.

“I love you too. I’ll see you in a little bit.” Minho ends the call and turns around in his seat, happily humming to himself with a lovestruck expression on his face. He nearly falls out of his chair when he sees you hovering over him with a smirk on your face. “Jesus!”

“Seriously? Here? Now?”

“Shut the fuck up. I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Suuure.”

Minho rolls his eyes at your silly expression, unamused and crossing his arms. “Can I help you, Y/N?”

You rub one of your nails, thinking of how Hyunjin once complimented them. “You’re like my only friend.”

“I know.” He watches you collapse into one of the chairs in front of him. “But what happened to those Golden Bitches?”

“Golden Trio,” you correct, although Minho doesn’t miss the hint of a grin on your face at his intentional mistake. “And I’m done with them. Finally.”

You put your head down on Minho’s desk as he reaches into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a pack of Twizzlers and tossing them to you. “Talk.”

“It’s, um, kind of bad, though.” 

“I’m listening.”

Everything comes spilling out of your mouth: brunch at The Terrace, your new unpaid party-planning gig, and of course… Hyunjin. Your explanation is much more censored than the real thing, of course, because there’s no way you’re going to talk about your whole mango expedition with a married man. That is a whole new level of breaking boundaries, and you’ve crossed enough to know.

“Well… that’s basically it.” You swallow nervously, and suddenly, your throat feels very dry. “Mark sucks, and I’m thirsting after my therapist slash dating coach.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Minho says gently, a color that you weren’t even sure existed for him in public. His teasing persona always overtakes the tender one exclusively reserved for his other half. “The whole Hyunjin thing is probably just temporary. You’re still adjusting to considering romance as a possibility again.”

“Okay.”

“The right person will come along. It’s long, and it’s hard, but that journey will be worth it.”

“Says you. You and your wife are literally perfect. I mean, college sweethearts? If your life was a music soundtrack, it would be one of those cheesy love playlists that annoying couples make together.”

Minho just chuckles. “We had our ups and downs. But yeah, we kind of are perfect. She is perfect.”

He softly smiles to himself, gazing at the beautiful portrait of his wife that’s framed on his desk. He’s in his own world now, and you pat his shoulder. “Thanks for the help, Minho. You should go home.”

As you exit the NCT headquarters, you can’t help but feel your heart squeeze even tighter in your chest. Witnessing such a wholesome moment should have given you hope, a glimpse of a future you could have. Instead, it reminded you of what you can’t have right now— who you can’t have. 

You appreciate Minho’s efforts to make you feel better, but he just doesn’t know the full truth. Because your chat with him pushed up something very unpleasant that you’ve been avoiding for a while now. Your pink-loving, classic novel-reading, luxury-shopaholic dating coach is more than just the object of your explicit fantasies, all unbeknownst to him. You’ve started to love the person you become when you’re around him. You love how much more confident and happier you’ve become because of him. Hell, you have genuine feelings for him.

You are so fucked.

Spanning his entire career as a relationship therapist (and all of the other job titles; for God’s sake, he’s the Love Doctor), Hyunjin can’t really come up with any thorns in the rosebush. Sure, there have been a few snags, like that time his clients literally brought divorce papers to one of their meetings (he managed to convince them to take a romantic vacation to Bora Bora and bond more as a couple; it worked). Or when another client confessed to committing adultery with the family’s nanny halfway through a session (after persuading the wife not to murder her husband in the middle of his office, Hyunjin set them up with recovery counseling; that also worked). Life was predictable, but enjoyable. Just the way he likes it. 

Every single day used to begin the exact same way. He woke up at exactly five-thirty, before doing his favorite low-impact yoga routine in his home gym. Hyunjin liked being up early enough to watch the sun rise from the balcony of his West Hollywood penthouse, while drinking a cup of loose leaf Darjeeling tea, of course. His post Sun Salutation breakfast consisted of two slices of whole wheat bread topped with two organic scrambled eggs and extra virgin olive oil. He’d shower and spend a while wandering his walk-in closet, deciding what killer outfit to wear for work, his third favorite place after South Korea and the Taj Mahal. And then he drove to SeoulSpark in Cami, his beloved baby pink Cadillac that he splurged on after getting on Forbes 30 Under 30. 

Every single day used to end the exact same way. He’d leave work by six, after finishing up the last of his meetings. He’d browse on his MacBook for a nice recipe before cooking his dinner while jamming to Mariah on his Spotify Premium, and change the station to classical while eating. He took another shower, but taking more time to do his special avocado hair mask and full skin-care routine. Then Hyunjin liked to cozy up in his Versace bathrobe while catching up with the latest episode of Love Island and cuddling with his paw-dorable shih tzu, Princess Diana. Oh, and, he couldn’t unwind without kicking his feet back and downing a glass of pink champagne. And then he went to bed by eleven.

That was all before you, of course.

The day he met you, he was reminded of the sun. Yes, the way you roughly turned your chin to the side or rained down on him with your sharp words was more evocative of a thunderstorm. But then there was that dress, a pale yellow fluttering above your knees, and how your wide eyes had so expressively taken in your surroundings when you stepped into his office. The slightly awkward way you greeted him, when you harshly avoided his gaze when you were embarrassed. And the way you looked at him, your pretty lips pulled into a stubborn pout, but really, he could see the soft curiosity in your gaze. You were so mad at the world around you, all he wanted to do was take you onto his magic carpet and show you a new one.

He also really, really wanted to just rip that dress off your body and fuck you senseless. And when you started to eat that mango? He had to scramble to think of a list of unsexy things to avoid a boner right then and there. Chipped nails. Gonorrhea. Andrew Tate.

The following weeks weren’t any better, either. He felt like an inexperienced, horny teenager once again, lusting after the tiniest flash of skin. In your last meeting, Hyunjin had fixated on the tiny rip on your stocking that barely exposed the soft skin of your thigh. You hadn’t even noticed, but God, he was trying not to go crazy in his seat. 

Usually, other people are the ones who are seduced by Hyunjin’s charming nature, but ever since you, the once calm, elegant, and poised Hyunjin has been prone to being seduced by irrelevant wardrobe malfunctions. And the absolutely inappropriate thoughts of you that have now flooded his brain are constantly floating around, disturbing him. Yesterday, he slept-in, so he had to skip his morning yoga and was nearly late to work. Later, he fell asleep while fisting himself under the covers, forgetting to turn on his mood lighting and 528 Hz nighttime music. And today was an even bigger disaster, because he’d zoned out during his marketing meeting, thinking of bending you over his desk instead of advertising SeoulSpark. Ever since you, none of his days have been the same. Tonight is no exception.

Hyunjin turns the steel knob, cranking up the heat for no reason at all. Maybe he needs to feel the burn of the scalding water on his skin, shocking him back into reality, or perhaps, he needs to hide from his sanity in the steam, too ashamed to look out and into the bathroom mirror. 

The water pours down Hyunjin’s back as he steps under the steady stream, dousing himself and trying to forget about you. But it’s to no avail, because he feels his hand already moving down, roving over his Pilates-strengthened abs and slipping down to the one place that’s pleading for his attention. 

Hyunjin tilts his head back in the bliss of succumbing to temptation, slightly leaning his cheek against his shoulder as he strokes his hardened length slowly. He sucks in a sharp breath as he squeezes himself, deftly curving his wrist for a more impactful angle. Hyunjin is no stranger to a good lover, but right now he’s resorting to touching himself with the familiarity that only he is entitled to. Although, he would love to teach you about more than just confidence, giving you lessons on how to pleasure him, watching you work like the sexy aficionado that he believes you to be.

In his mind, he isn’t in the privacy of his bathroom, jerking himself off. No, he’s in his office, lying down on his luxe handwoven rug with you on top of him. You’re completely exposed except for the place where your yellow frock is scrunched around your waist, because you were so eager to have each other that Hyunjin hadn’t even bothered with completely undressing you.��

Hyunjin tightens his fingers around his cock and speeds up, pumping himself aggressively. He bites down on his lip and screws his eyes shut, as low, breathy moans escape him. He’s leaking already, flushed and throbbing under his palm. Hyunjin pushes a hand against the shower wall for support and whimpers at the thought of you riding him while slurping on that goddamn mango. He’s so delusional for you that you hadn’t even bothered with getting a knife to cut into the mango, instead holding it in your hand and biting into it while bouncing on his cock. 

Hyunjin lets out a groan as he strokes himself even faster, and he feels his orgasm rapidly approaching but refrains from releasing. He doesn’t deserve to come, not yet. He imagines your legs spread and your tight walls around him, instead of his own fist. Your cheeks are a deep red now, as Hyunjin pounds up into you, claiming you and making you his own. The juice from the mango is dripping all over your gorgeous breasts, trailing down even further and mixing with your own arousal. Hyunjin wonders about how you would taste. Were you as sweet as that mango you had eaten so damn seductively in front of him? No. You probably tasted even better. 

His soft moans have turned into harsh pants as Hyunjin’s hands begin to lose rhythm, unsteadily working his length. Hyunjin listens to your pretty sighs as you look down at him, pleasure and amusement contorting your features. 

“You want me so bad, don’t you?” 

“I do!” Hyunjin chokes out as a cry as the pressure rises in his core. He’s so, so close, the pearls of sweat rolling down his neck and becoming one with the water. 

“Hyunjin…”

Hyunjin’s name slips out of your mouth as easily as he flips you over onto your back, fucking harshly into you. He anchors his hand to your waist, gripping tightly, as you gaze up at him through your half-lidded eyes. Your bare chests are pressed together in a sticky haze of both your sweat and the juice of the mango you have now abandoned for something more satiating. Spurred on by the fucked-out smile on your face, he brings his free hand to your lips and you obediently suck on his fingers, wishing it was his cock instead. But you’re still in control, directing him with your eyes and whispering sweet praises to him. And then you’re clenching around him, your body shuddering underneath Hyunjin’s as you reach the peak of your ecstasy. 

“I need you to come for me, Hyunjin.”

Your final command makes Hyunjin convulse and tense, his back arching as he finally chases after his release. Hyunjin thrusts into his hand, overcome by the thought of you judging him while he comes. Hyunjin’s knees go weak as he strokes himself through his orgasm, violently spasming against the Carrara marble walls of his shower. His release shoots out in hot spurts, painting his trembling thighs and the walls a thick white. 

Breathless, Hyunjin opens his eyes and washes off his shame, but there’s only so much that water and coconut body wash can do. The moment he prepares to step out of his steaming shower, Hyunjin feels anything but cleansed— his situation is quite the opposite. The unholy thoughts that he had touched himself to had done anything but subside, struggling behind the dam in his mind that contains his last shreds of dignity. As he opens the door leading to his bedroom, the shock of cold air conditioning against his damp skin is a harsh reminder of reality. 

Hyunjin’s relationship with you is strictly limited to his office, the place where he did not get to fuck you in. Any discourse with sexual content is limited to your personal romantic endeavors that he has no role in whatsoever. You have zero idea about his filthy fantasies involving you, and see him merely as the person who would help you find happiness with someone else. Not him. He’s your therapist, and in clinical terms, you could be his patient.

The mirage of you standing in front of him disagrees, however. 

“You’re technically not my therapist—  more like my counselor.” 

Hyunjin watches with wide eyes as you bound over to him. Smirking, you playfully toy with the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist.

“But I am feeling kind of sick, though, Dr. Hwang. I’m all hot and aching, just for you.”

“Go away! You can’t be here.” Hyunjin shakes his head, quickly walking over to his closet and getting into his silk batik pajamas. “I’m going crazy…”

Princess Diana nips at Hyunjin’s ankles, prodding him to go back to his normal self and snuggle with her while they watch reality TV. 

“I just can’t right now, Diana,” Hyunjin exclaims exasperatedly. She gets the hint and slinks away, leaving Hyunjin alone in his bedroom.

He hadn’t even bothered with turning on the lights, the glimmering Los Angeles skyline past his expansive windows casting a pale glow in his room. If mindreading was a real thing, Hyunjin would be done for, because the thoughts that had transpired today would ruin him, shrivel up his reputation and business. If this went beyond the confines of his home, continuing to force itself into his daily life, he could lose everything. His job, his name, his purpose. Nevertheless, Hyunjin feels his hand sliding down once more, like a sinful memory of the past. It’s going to be another long night, and what happens tomorrow is variable. But Hyunjin knows one thing to be true.

He is so fucked.

«NEXT CHAPTER» · «GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

That was the longest thing I've ever written for one piece. AND IT'S ONLY CHAPTER 1 LMFAO. Anyway, hope you liked it, loves! I'll be hiding under my blankets tonight and screaming about my first published smut scene EVER. Please leave your thoughts, I don’t mind if you leave a whole essay ;) -Dreamy

TAGLIST

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📢 ©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kflixnet #k-labels #straykidsland #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #anti-romantic #stray kids fic #skz fic #hyunjin fic #stray kids #skz #kpop imagines #skz au #kpop fic #stray kids au

[bvclee]

the girl from library

content: non!idol, highschool au, introverted x extroverted, wlw, popularity.

genre: fluff, a little angst.

WARNING: slight mention of bullying.

ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

kang haerin x fem!reader

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Y/n was those people Haerin avoided, loud, happy and too much highlighted for her liking. Those people that everyone loves and wants to be friend with. Y/n was friend with the school sweetheart Danielle, the gossip girl Hyein and the everyone crush Minji.

They weren't bad people thought, she just didn't like them because they were in good terms with her bullies.

Haerin only had one friend Hanni and she really didn't minded. She was happy with Hanni, even if the girl was friends with those people, she was still caring and a good friend to her, defending her against bullies.

Y/n sighed as she once again looked everywhere for the book she was looking for.

She wasn't the type of people to really enjoy reading, but she had to read a book for her french class and she didn't wanted to fail. So here she was searching for the book she needed.

"Where is it-?" She cut herself and finally found what she was looking for quickly taking a sit in the library.

Y/n wasn't aware of the cat eyed girl staring at her the whole time forgetting she was reading at first. She would lie if she said that she didn't find Y/n attractive.

After a few minutes staring, Danielle entered the library as she hurried to wrap her arms around Y/n's shoulder. She told her something and the other eyes opened in shock one before they left the library in hurry.

Haerin glanced at them before returning to the book she was reading before.

"Haerin!" The cat eyed girl turn around, to find her best friend and only friend Hanni, running toward her with a big smile. "There's a party at Minji's." The shorter girl announced with a knowing smile on her face.

Haerin shook her head no, knowing what she meant.

"But please! You know how Minji is my crush since for ever! And Y/n will be here too! Please just this time!"

"No, I won't go."

"Please, Haerin. You're my best friend. You're supposed to support me in this!" Hanni said in a dramatic tone while putting her hand on her forehead. Haerin roll her eyes as Hanni continued begging her.

She hated party, but yet she was here watching her best friend blushing and giggling in front of her long time crush Minji. Maybe it was alcohol or the realisation that she needed to make a move, but Hanni was determined to get something from Minji this night.

She sighed as she decided to take some fresh air, hoping that Minji wasn't an asshole and won't do weird things to her best friend.

She sat down on the high sidewalk in front of the house. It was a little cold but not enough to be shivering. It was calm, the loud music muffed playing in the background.

She felt nice and peaceful.

"Why are you here?" She heard a soft and sweet voice, a calm voice and angelic one.

She turned her head slightly, only for her to met two pair of eyes staring down at her sat body.

Y/n.

Haerin didn't given her an answer, she just glared back at the trees' leaf moving slowly, being lighted by the street lights and the moonlight.

Y/n head tilted and her eyebrows frowned in confusion. It was the very first time someone as treated her this kind of way before.

"Kang Haerin? Right?" She asked once again with a polite and sweet smile getting closer of the girl, who just nodded staring at her.

Y/n was aware of Haerin's staring. She often catches her looking at her, and Y/n founded it cute.

"Well, enjoy the wind." She said with a smile, despairing back into the the house, her silhouette getting drown in the drunk teenagers.

"You did not tell her that?" Hyein said with a scoff. "'Enjoy the wind, gna gna. Are you dumb!?" She said pushing Y/n by the shoulder in fake anger.

"Hyein." Danielle said while laughing at the show in front of her while shaking her head. "Leave her alone..."

"Yeah, leave her alone. I got the number of her crush's best friend." Minji said proudly, there were no link between the both things she announced but she still said it.

"I get it thanks." Y/n affirmed rolling her eyes as Hyein was still calling her 'dumb' and 'stupid for not getting the girl's number'.

Hanni was watching them from afar, not understanding any of words they were saying, she glanced back at Haerin with a pleading look.

"You can go alone. Why do I have to be with you?" The cat girl asked in annoyance.

"Because you're my best friend and I need you to survived her friends stares." The shorter explained getting up as she grabbed Haerin's arm.

That's until Minji and Y/n were already walking toward their table.

Minji was clearly flirting with Hanni in front of the other, that made Haerin embarrassed and leave. But she didn't even noticed that Y/n followed her to the library.

"Kang Haerin." The taller girl turn around glancing at the girl in front of her.

"Kim Y/n." She answered, not as rude as she was at the party, it made Y/n's stomach exploded in every way possible and imaginable. Her heart beating faster.

"I was wondering something." The cat girl gave her a look meaning that she was waiting for the question. "Do you like girls, by any chance?"

Haerin was taken aback by Y/n boldness and straightforward nature. But she nodded, not giving an proper response. But Y/n didn't cared, she was happy that Haerin even give her time of day.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Silence.

"Why?"

Y/n tilted her head in confusion and then smile.

"Because, i want to get to know you better."

Silence again.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I said yes. I will go on a date with you, Kim Y/n."

The shorter girl smiled happily, it made somehow Haerin feel something, something different. Something different, a feeling that she liked.

"Give me your phone."

"Why?"

"So I can give you my number, dummy." Y/n giggled as she handed her hand out waiting for Haerin to give her the phone as the cat girl give her.

She took a quick selfie, tapped on the screen and hurried to give Haerin her phone back.

"See you around, Kang Haerin." And she left.

When Haerin glanced down at her phone, she blushed at the contact name.

'y/n gf <3'.

#x reader #gxglesbianlgbt #x female reader #lgbtq #newjeans #wlw #hyein new jeans #danielle marsh #kim minji #pham hanni #kang haerin x reader #kang haerin #haerin newjeans

[brrrkdslek]

MINGI, YUNHO & THE PROFESSOR!

✦ 2 — YUNHO &

❒ you loved all your students equally. actually, scratch that. you loved them sure, but no one beats your top student, jeong yunho. along with the lowest, song mingi. curiosity takes you on a ride as you find out the two are secretly lovers.

❒ college au, teeth-rotting toe-curling smut, student! yunho, professor! male! reader

❒ cheating, dacryphilia, non-consensual (at first), praising, hickies, semi-public sex, good boy! yunho, nipple play, choking kink, hand fetish, possessiveness, teasing, creampie

"so, this equation here..." you pointed at the written equation on the white board with your dry-erase marker. looking around to make sure the students understood the material, you roll your eyes as a few students start dozing off.

"guys, i know finals are over but don't think i can't reduce your marks to zero right now." you lean against the board and smirk seeing the sleeping students now rising from the dead, sitting straight with the biggest smiles on their faces.

you let out a breathy laugh, "ha, that's more like it." spinning the marker with your fingers, you continue to solve the equation, glancing back at the students every once in a while, especially your top student, jeong yunho.

he was sat nicely in the front row, just where you liked. he works diligently and jots down everything from what you write to what you say. he is a 10/10 student as all the other teachers have said too.

you lick your bottom lip as you stare at the male jotting down notes for a few seconds. he looked so cute today... so cute you just wanted to fuck him full of your cum, and you'll make sure that happens today.

as the class comes to an end, you dismiss the students, packing up yourself but pausing as you see yunho still seated, chin propped against his palm.

you followed his eyes to your hands, which were erasing the white board. you smirk and finish cleaning the board before walking towards a dozed-off yunho, tapping his shoulder gently. "uh- huh?" he looks up and turns red seeing you kneeling at the height of the bench and smiling at him, "oh- sorry! i must have dozed off... i'll get going n-" you pulled him back down, "how about we chat a bit, hm?"

yunho bit back his grin and nodded, eager to chat with his favourite professor. you pull him towards your desk as he leaned against the desk, you sat at your chair, "so, top scoring again, huh?" you grinned as he let out a happy giggle, "only for my favourite professor!"

how cute. you got up from your seat, "i heard you've been tutoring mingi, correct?" he physically stiffens at the mention of his lover, "ah- yes, i've been tutoring him for a fee months now-" "weird. although the too student is tutoring him, he still failed his finals," you slowly crept towards him as his ass hits the edge of your desk, leaning in at the shell of his ear,"it'd be a shame if you were doing something else other than studying, right?"

yunho shivers, hands placed on your chest, pushing you away. but you don't budge, instead you leaned even closer to him, lips brushing his ear, hot breath making him all dizzy. he gripped your shirt, biting back a whimper when you suddenly pull away. "but of course, you wouldn't do that," caressing his cheek gently, you bring his face closer to yours, so that you were only inches apart, "after all, you're my best student, there's no way you'd... do something you're not supposed to, right?"

yunho swallows before nodding slowly. sliding your fingers along his jawline to tilt his chin up, "s-sir, we shouldn't-" yunho felt like his heart was beating out of his chest, he wanted it so bad, he wanted you so bad. but he couldn't, not when- "-mingi is waiting out there for you.' did i get that right?" you smirk as you see his smile falter, absolutely terrified. "h-how, i- i'm sorry...!" he looks down in despair, dreading what you were going to do with him next.

you cooed, "hey, there's no problem. i'm just worried about you," you hold his waist gently and press your chest against him, face only inches apart, "no, sir- i- no, we shouldn't..." ignoring him you kiss up his neck, sending the butterflies in his stomach swarming. "do you really think, mingi, who is labeled as kq's 'himbo' would stay loyal to such a good man such as yourself?" his hands which were on your chest, grips the fabric in his hand, "w-what do you mean?" "now i'm not saying this for certain, but i heard he hooked up with one of the seniors-" "what? no- mingi wouldn't that, he- he wouldn't do that to me..." he began tearing up, "there's no way..."

"would he?" you nibbled at the skin of his neck, hands squeezing his waist gently. yunho bit his lip, he knew the answer well, he just didn't want to believe, he didn't want to believe that mingi would do that to him. he let a tear slip out as he moaned quietly, wrapping his hands around your neck. you slowly laid him on the desk, shoving your things off of it in a hurry. you bit and sucked at his neck like you were a starved man, he whimpered and felt his toes curl inside his shoes.

pulling away, you hum in satisfaction at the disheveled yunho. there were tears prickling the corners of his eyes, hair messy, shirt crumpled, and a big noticeable erection from his jeans. "so, should we?" you lift up his shirt, whistling at you brushed your fingers over his toned abs, sending shivers down his spine. "j-just this once..." you frowned a bit, "just once? awe, i guess i have to make the most out of it then."

yunho coughed out as your hand flew up to his neck, squeezing gently. his hands flew to grip your wrist, letting out a breathy moan, he squeezed his legs together. looking up at you, he bit his lip as he smiled lustfully at you. "you like this don't you?" squeezing harder, he moaned out, music to your ears. you smirked, "i see you watching my hands every lesson, baby. you think you're slick, huh?" letting go of him, yunho whimpers at the emptiness before taking in a deep breath, "i can't believe my good yunho is so," you caressed his cheek, "bad and sexy..."

"sir..." you hummed, "please, i- i want you..." he buried his face in your chest from embarrassment, you smiled widely at that, "gladly." leaning down, you capture the boy's lip in a hot kiss. slipping your tongue into his mouth, he moaned at the feeling, letting you take full charge. "taste so good..." you mumbled against his lips, grinding his hips against yours. yunho whimpered and toyed with your hair, messing it up.

pulling away, a string of saliva connecting between your lips, eyes never leaving each other, your grip on his hips tightens as you rub against him. yunho began tearing up again, shutting his eyes as he cried. you panicked, "oh god, nonono- baby, oh, what's going on?" you hold his face in your hands, wiping the tears that were falling. "i- i can't believe mingi would ch-cheat on me...!" he cried as you held him in your arms, "he doesn't deserve you, love."

you kiss his forehead as he breathes in, "you're such a good man, he's missing out." kissing him again, yunho tangles his limbs with yours, never wanting this to end. he internally curses himself for never choosing you first, he was so afraid just because you were a teacher and he was a student. but now, does it even matter anymore? not just from you, but he's heard from his friends that mingi was a player and fucked around. yunho was pure and gave him the benefit of the doubt, which he regrets now.

you brush his fluffy hair and coo, "i should make you forget about him for now, hm?" licking a stripe up his neck, he only whimpers and pulls you in closer, "would you like that, my love?" he felt his stomach do flips at the nickname, he flashed you a tiny smile before nodding his head. "i should reward you, anyways. you did so well on the exam, my little champ." connecting your lips, you made out with him passionately.

"f-fuck me already, sir!" yunho mumbled against your lips, thighs gripping your hips as he grinded into you impatiently. you laugh, "so impatient," you kiss his cheek, "so damn pretty, yuyu..." yunho breathed heavily, his hands unmoving from above his head.

as you unbuckled your belt and slid your pants off, yunho ripped open your dress shirt and almost drooled at the sight of your muscular bod. sure, it was prominent even when you wore sweaters over your dress shirts in winter, outlining your juicy pecs. but god, seeing it close-up is a way better experience than daydreaming about it during classes.

slidding your boxers down, your lengthy cock sprung to life. yunho's hole clenched and unclenched at the sight of your large girth, eyes begging you to put it in already. and for a moment, yunho forgets that he ever had a boyfriend, just enjoying this moment as much as he could. since he never knew if this would be the first and last time he'd get such treatment.

grinning, you pull yunho close and rub your tip against his hole, teasing him in the process. kissing up his jawine, you muttered against his ear, "'aight prince, this might hurt so hold onto me, m'kay?" yunho shivered slightly as he nodded, a bit anxious about your size. he buried his head into your neck as you slowly pushed yourself in, not even needing lube as you both are both literally and figuratively dripping.

yunho let out a tiny high-pitched moan just below your ear, almost making you go manic. gripping his thighs eagerly, you continue to slowly push yourself in, not wanting to hurt the male. yunho shut his eyes in a daze, the full feeling at his stomach making his body shake with pleasure. you could be inside him forever and he wouldn't ever mutter a word of complain.

you groaned roughly as you bit down on his neck, drawing out a lengthy moan from the taller male. as you pushed in completely, yunho felt your tip brush against his prostate, making his eyes roll backwards. you laugh at the male, gripping his throat gently, "we barely started and you're already close," you tutted, "maybe this will end earlier than i thought, hm?" you pulled out as yunho's eyes widen, "n-no! i... i can hold it in, sir! please, please please!" tears started forming at the corners of his eyes as he pleaded for you pathetically. hands gripping your shoulders as his body still shook.

suddenly, your hips snap forward, filling him with warmth once again. yunho yelped as his toes curled, nails scratching along your shoulder blades, eyes twitching from the pain and pleasure. you nibbled at the shell of his ear as he adjusted with your large genital, "heh, i was only joking, baby~ how could i ever leave a gem as rare as you?" quickly, you catch his lips in a heated makeout sesh, slowly dragging your cock against his velvety walls. you groaned into the kiss when he clenched against your dick, you swore he could've cut it in half with how tight he was.

yunho moaned, tangling his fingers with your hair. he felt like he was in heaven, the feeling so dreamy, yet so real. he felt every pulse, twitch and movement of your cock, milking it along the way. yunho grinned as your grip on his thighs tightened, making him all giddy. pulling away from the kiss, yunho whimpered, "sir, faster please!" laying himself back onto the desk surface, he positioned his arms above his head as he looked up at you with lust in his eyes, begging you silently to fuck him already.

you peck his lip, "you're wish is my command, prince." as if on cue, you began thrusting harshly into the boy, sending waves of pleasure into his body and all the way to his cock, which was holding itself from cumming on the spot. yunho's body bounced with each thrust, moans aligning with the beat of your thrusts. lewd noises of skin slapping and yunho's moans echoed through the large hall, making the two's horniness shoot through the roof.

you leaned down and caught his nipple between your teeth, biting and sucking it. "ah- no, sir!" yunho felt electricity shoot throughout his body the moment your teeth made contact with his already erect nipple, "n-not there, ngh~!" tears fell from his eyes at the overwhelming sense of pleasure he was feeling at the moment. he never wanted this to end, and he never wanted to part from you again.

you bit down at the flesh of his chest, making the boy moan out loud as his grip on your hair tightened, making you moan too. pulling away from his chest, a string of saliva still connected between your bottom lip and his nipple, you look down to see the boy's stomach covered in his own cum. you giggled, "gosh, am i that good?" you caressed his teary face, "i'm flattered." bloodshot eyes look up at you, "will this happen again? i-i just don't wanna be away from you..." he began tearing up again at the thought of him being your one night stand, it broke his little heart. yunho felt your cock twitch and- did it just get bigger?

yunho's eyes widen, "w-why did it just-" "did i tell you i have a fetish for when you cry?" massaging his hips gently, you slowly fucked into him as you maintained eye contact, filled with passion and lust, so much desire, and so much love. yunho's face heated up along with the tips of his ears, "every time you cried to me when you did bad on an exam, i had to stop myself from fucking you right then and there," yunho looked away from your burning gaze, "you can from now on..." you grinned, "i-i don't mind-" yunho moaned out as you sufdenly thrusted manically again.

his hips were bruising at how tight you were gripping it, eyes closed and head thrown back as you continued thrusting into him, groaning every few seconds. you fixed your composure and grinned evilly at the sight of yunho's twitching cock, your hand immediately flying to jerk him off, sending him off the rails.

"ah! sir, wait- mmh~! i'll cum if you-" tightening your grip on his cock, your hand matching the pace of your thrusts, his back arched as he came in got, white ropes, dripping down his dick and onto your hands, you came a few seconds after him, spraying your seeds deep inside him. yunho whimpered at the lingering touch of your warm hand as he watched you bring your cum-stained hand to your lips, tongue swirling across your fingers as you swallowed his cum, the salty taste lingering in your tongue.

just as he thought it was over, you started thrusting again. "what!? ah- wait! that's enough... i-i can't anymore...!" yunho cried at the burning feeling of your cock, his stomached churned at your possessive gaze. "well doll, i need to mark you well, so that you only remember me for the rest of your life~" yunho's cock hardened at the crazy glint in your eyes, cockhead abusing his prostate as he thrusted again and again.

god, he's gonna be so sore for the next month.

©BRRRKDSLEK 2023

#brrrkdslek 📁: oneshots #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #jongho x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #jeong yunho #yunho smut #ateez x male reader #male reader #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fic

[rekino2114]

can you do junko x male reader headcannons

Junko enoshima relationship headcanons

(Non despair au)

Junko loves you sooooo much it's a genuine obsession, and she absolutely loves to show it in literally every way possible.

She always spoils you with the money she has, she's really rich and she'll buy you anything you want even if you didn't ask for it, clothes, video games, or just random stuff, it's basically a daily occurrence for her to either mail you her gifts with a love note or just giving them to you with a hug and kiss.

She'd love to take you on every one of her photoshoots. That way, you can see your gorgeous girlfriend pose in cute and revealing outfits for you, but most of the time, she has to travel abroad for them so you can't come but she'll definitely send you a lot of pictures and buy you souvenirs

Junko lives for p.d.a she literally has her hands on you all the time. Whenever she stares at you, she has to fight the urge to just squeeze you tightly and smother you in her chest. She also loves to kiss you, her kisses feel amazing but you have to explain to your friends why you always have very expensive lipstick marks on your face.

Mukuro probably has you and your dates with junko memorized because of how much junko talks (brags) about you, and she definitely talks super loudly on the phone so her sister can hear your conversations.

"Hiiiii babe, me and mukuro were just hanging out, but it's great to hear you. Hey sis, say hi to my super awesome boyfriend"

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #x reader #junko enoshima x reader #junko enoshima #x male reader

[lucienne-thee-librarian]

More Lucienne Fic Recs

Part 2 to Morphienne and gen Lucienne centric fic recs, this is a non-exhaustive list of other Lucienne rarepairs!

Gaulcienne

This is Why I Don't Leave the House by @zorawitch has to be one of my most revisited and beloved fics not just for this pairing, but for this fandom ever. It's the one that actually hooked me for this ship, it's a human au but everyone is written - just spot on and it's both romantic as hell but with some serious drama too, the entire family is in this, even Despair actually gets moments to shine which is rare it seems. Dr*ml!ng is in it but very very briefly, like it's objectively the Side Pairing Where One Is On the Phone For 5 Minutes in the background for once, also contains very side (but weirdly cute) Desunity. I seriously want to turn this fic into heroin and put an IV to inject it right into my veins. I love it so much (Obviously) and you'll see why if you read it. Descriptions: A+, dialogue A+ character work A ++++.

In Places No One Will Find by starsniper explores the grief of losing Jessamy from Lucienne's POV and Gault is the Best as per usual. This broke my heart in all the best ways, it needs SO much more love.

Obliterate All Prior Things by The_KickIt_Domain is. It is one of the most beautifully written fics I've ever SEEN. Everything about the way Lucienne and Gault are written and the sense of history between them is 10/10. The yearning and the tenderness is off the charts. Definitely a favorite

Daydreams by james is a sensual and beautifully written snippet of domestic Gaulcienne and I adore it.

Beautiful by melime tender fluff with lush description.

"This is my wife..." by @honeyteacakes is just. Short but so so sweet and feels like a look into Matthew and Lucienne's bond as well as hers and Gault's relationship. They also have a bit of fun at his expense lol

dreaming weather by Anonymous way too short but HOT and poetic smut.

Sea Changes by Cafephile FLAWLESS addition to monsterfuckertober. Gault brings back an old nightmare form with tentacles for fun and a good time is had by all:) hot and lovely.

Calliene (Calliope and Lucienne)

@two-hands-toward-the-sun is literally carrying this ship tag on their shoulders and all of their Calienne fics are good but here's some highlights:

I carried this for years plus it's sequel, I can feel the sun whenever you're near are just. *chefs kiss* absolutely great exploration of them trying to deal with their trauma and sometimes competing needs together.

you love each other until the city becomes beautiful , heart of my heart, come my way and stay my honey are all pure quality fluff. Shoot this serotonin straight into my veins.

Corinthienne (Cori × Lucienne)

I haven't read much fic for this pairing so its gonna be short lol, but I couldn't pass these by

Insatiable by honeyteacakes is incredibly tragically steamy and beautifully written.

Quiet in the Library by starkraving is just. MWAH. Very smutty and full of Feelings, it packs such a good punch I can't oversell it.

Just Between Us by onyourleft084 Lucienne tries to domme the Corinthian into behaving and staying in line and it works...for awhile. Honestly I don't feel like I'm selling it right though, just by that simple description. You will feel things about this and them by the end, I promise. At least I did.

#gaulcienne #callienne #calliope x lucienne #corinthienne #lucienne #gault the sandman #calliope #the corinthian #sandman fic recs

[neverwalka1one]

10 Recommendations!

Tomorrow (2/15) is International Fanwords Day, so as part of the feedback fest, here's ten recs from my favorited list!

The Untamed. This is a Golden Core Reveal, not so much fix-it as fix the world around it so that everything doesn't go off the rails. It features Cunning Deception, Not So Cunning Deception, Wei Wuxian being gremlin, surprisingly cool LQR, and more Wangxian than Jiang Cheng is comfortable with. Also JGY has a migrane.

Like a House on Fire by KouriArashi. (oooh, I figured out how to do a thing) The Untamed. A modern-world AU non-cultivators rough 9-1-1 fusion fic. Everyone's a firefighter or a paramedic or a cop, Jiang Cheng gets a dog (and she is a Very Good Girl), Jin Zixuan discovers a new and shiny spine, Nie Mingjue just wants his people to be okay, and JGY gets an axe. It's mildly unhinged, it's excellent writing, I love it.

Imprints by Lisa_Telramor. The Untamed. A post-canon fic in which Wei Wuxian rescues a small innocent baby... whoops that's a dog. Except even if it is a dog, it is still small. And innocent. And helpless. And definitely will die if not helped. Featuring Wei Wuxian and his dog (!!!), poor mental health repair techniques, Yunmeng Bros reconciliation, and Jin Ling despairing over his uncles. This fic is so cute, I cannot even.

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller. The Untamed. Wei Wuxian returns, but it's Not Right, and in a panic he retreats to Lotus Pier. Also known as that 'Wei Wuxian fucks with gender and then everything else' fic. Featuring Lan Zhan having deeply confused thoughts about his sexuality and loyalty to a dead man, Jin Ling gleefully calling Wei Wuxian 'aunt' at every opportunity, Wei Wuxian bitching about careless baby necromancers, a revision of Yi City, and Lan Xichen being So Confused All The Time.

Climbing Up That Coastal Shelf by Sour_Idealist. The Untamed. A post-canon fic in which Jin Ling realizes _no one_ is keeping an eye on Wei Wuxian. Then he learns what a self-sacrificing idiot his genius uncle is, and decides if no one else is going to claim this guy, he absolutely will because he needs all the help he can get. The Jin sect will never be the same. Featuring the return of Mianmian, So Many Family Feelings, Wei Wuxian scaring the Jin elders, poor communication skills amongst cultivators, and Jin Ling being possessive.

The Sword and the Shield by 29Pieces. Good Omens. A post S1 fic (written when there was only S1), in which Aziraphael is an absolute badass. Featuring the sort of angel where 'fear not' is the sort of reassurance one needs, and Aziraphael isn't saying that.

A Friend of Mine by CowGayKermit. Umbrella Academy. In which Klaus' buddies from Vietnam put 2 and 2 together and get 'that kid on the news is _our Klaus_ holy shit'. Featuring a ton of OCs that have been through shit and don't take kindly to anyone being mean to their brother. It's wild, I love it, I will take a million versions of this please.

Arc Tremors by MountainRose. The Avengers. An old-school post-movie fic where people move into Avengers Tower, this time because Tony failed to hide just how poorly he was doing after the Chitauri rolled through town. Featuring Giant Mutated Seafood, medical drama, everyone gets to be a little over-protective and tetchy (as a treat), and the bots being adorable. I love this era of Avengers fics, I will live here forever.

Shades of Grey Spill From My Veins (bleeding ink all over the page) by Reverie. The Untamed. One of my all-time favs, a What If WWX Grew Up In The Nie Sect fic. Seriously, this is one of my comfort fics, I love it so much, just read it.

Work Day by Saintlygames. The Watchmaker of Filigree Street. So much lovely fluff about two of my favorite boys and their daughter. Honestly, this is just the sweetest. Featuring Thaniel being too competent for his own good, Mori using his powers to spoil his husband, Six tolerating hugs as best she can, and did I mention the fluff? SO FLUFFY I COULD DIE.

There are so many more (for srs, there's at least four more Untamed I could put on here right now, without searching), but this is a good place to start!

#ifd2024 #feedback fest

[mod-kyoko]

Maybe the chocolate aphrodisiac prompt with korekiyo 👀 I feel like korekiyo would buy it for his s/o bcs he thinks it’s cute to share things, people of different cultures do things like that blah blah but little does he know 👀👀 if ur okay with that hehe

chocolate aphrodisiac w/ Korekiyo

info: !nsfw!, one shot, established relationship, non-despair au, gn!reader, Korekiyo is dominant around 2,000 words a/n: Korekiyo is my mans fr, thank you for the request! Also, I hope that this gives gn!reader, I tried being very ambiguous on reader's genitals

⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡

"my beauty, I'm home." korekiyo called out softly in the apartment, bags upon bags hanging off his arms. he was the grocery shopper between you and him, he could actually follow a shopping list (unlike you) and his long arms made good bag hangers.

"coming!" you sang to him from the bedroom. he smiled at your voice and walked to the kitchenette to place the bags on the counter. thank goodness his jacket was made out of a hard material, else his arms would look like he had been tortured. he got started on putting the groceries away, lifting his head up when he heard your bare feet padding down the hallway.

"oh, amazing... thank you, kiyo..." you went on your toes to smack an appreciative kiss on his cheek. he always did so much for you. "here, let me help." you happily help him put away the shopping, he was putting food in the fridge and you were putting food in the cupboard. you both worked together in silence, just enjoying each other's company without much word. that's how it always been and it never bothered you, or him. Korekiyo found it wonderful that you can both work together in unison, expressing a language without needed words - just actions; hearing the gentle murmurs under your breath as you list where items should go. a smile stretched underneath his mask.

he was just finishing with the bags as his eyes landed on a particular sweet, chocolate. it deviated from the shopping list but he thought to spoil you. "ah yes, my love." he caught your attention, holding the bar of chocolate between his fingers. "I've bought you chocolate, as I know how much you love the dessert." your eyes lit up and you snatched the chocolate from his hands, he stifled a chuckle.

"oh thanks, kiyo! it's dark chocolate too..." you were already drooling at the thought of eating it, causing Korekiyo's eyes to crease in happiness. "it is my pleasure, really. perhaps we can share it and relax on the couch? sharing is caring, afterall; many humans express love with sharing" he drawled on that you couldn't help but roll your eyes. he was such a loveable dork.

"of course! it's better we share it anyway... else I'm going to eat it all..." you giggled as you scratched your cheek. he chuckled with you and placed a gangy hand on your lower back. "shall we then?" he gestured to the living area. you didn't need to be asked twice, you skipped your way onto the couch and he followed suite albeit, with more grace. you curled into his frame and his arm went around you. it was his turn to pick something to watch tonight and unsurprisingly he had picked the history channel. you're sure he's seen every episode already, yet he still sat there humming and going 'wonderful' or 'very interesting'. you leaned your head against the side of your chest and his hand snaked itself on the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

you unwrapped the chocolate in the meantime, it looked like it was expensive on the wrapping alone. kiyo really did enjoy to spoil you. you snap a piece off, then raising the bar to korekiyo who absentmindedly snapped a piece off for himself and it disappeared through his mask when you went to look. you tore off another piece and plopped it into your mouth. the chocolate was bitter as you would expect, it wasn't bad at all however. You ate a third piece, putting the chocolate on the coffee table if kiyo wanted more although he seemed more interested in the show right now.

it was about 30 minutes in that you felt a tightness in your stomach and you were feeling quite warm. you looked around to see if the heating was on but that wasn't so... it was the middle of winter; why were you so hot? you saw korekiyo shift in his seat for the first time in half an hour, taking his hat off his head and setting it on the table. as you looked at him, you could see his forehead was glistening. "are you feeling hot too?" you asked, he glanced to you and finally noticed that you were quite red. "yes, just a little but I am wearing layers... you are dressed less than me yet..." he laid the back of his hand on your forehead. "you're burning up..." his gold eyes observed the rest of you, he spied that your chest was heaving slightly and you were fidgeting like if you had an itch you couldn't quite get rid of. "are you alright?" he asked with his voice laced with concern.

"I.. I don't feel sick, just... hot... strange?" you squeezed your thighs together and his eyes glinted as he noticed this. he looked at the coffee table and picked up the chocolate bar. korekiyo stared at the ingredients, perhaps you were allergic to something? however, as he read on he came to a full realisation. he chuckled lowly, closing his eyes in a sense of satisfaction. "it appears... I have made the common human mistake... of not reading the fine print." he looked to your confused face. "this chocolate is in fact, an aphrodisiac..."

your jaw was slack. "w-what...?!" you began to whine. "kiyooooo... I ate three of those..." he chuckled at your despair in front of your pouting face. he waved a hand. "it'll be okay, dear. I'm positive that the effect will wear away soon. just relax and do not think about it." you slumped on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. this was his fault and he wasn't even feeling the effect of the chocolate as much as you were... this was literally unfair.

you tried, you really did. each passing minute was absolute torture as the hotness inside of you kept throbbing and building up over time. you crossed your legs, wiggled your hips, curling and uncurling yourself. you bet that you looked rather silly next to korekiyo who just leaned his elbow against the arm of the sofa, eyes trained on the TV screen. he was still sweating and red in the face, but compared to you he was an unmoving shape. you cleared your throat to hide the groan that wanted to come out of you, nails digging into your pants as your breathing simply got heavier and heavier. you were about to cry out 'I can't take it anymore!' until long fingers grasped your thigh.

"my darling..." korekiyo whispered in your ear, even through his mask you felt his warm breath against your skin. you shuddered, eyes darting down to his hand on your thigh then to his face. his serpent eyes observed your face and every detail on it, somehow that made you even more aroused. "you can not hold on any longer, can you?" he asked with a cock of his head. he was smug... he knew that it was his fault you were this way, it was his mistake yet he was relishing in your crazed state. he enjoyed watching how your eyes darted around, the sweat rolling down your face; the way your shaking leg felt in his hand. he enjoyed it, thoroughly.

finally, you swallowed the lump in your throat and you nodded feverishly. "I-I can't.. can't handle it anymore, kiyo..." you whined, eyes completely glossed over. "please get rid of this pain..."

you saw his eyes narrow once you said that. you couldn't even make out what kind of expression he was making, whether he was smiling or frowning. either way, he knew he felt the same by the shape in his pants. "oh..." he sighed, dramatically leaning his cheek into his hand. "what a beautiful song that is, yes... hearing you utter your pleads and begs... reminds me of a song I once-"

"kiyo!!"

he was a smug bastard but he knew better than to push your buttons especially when you are in this state. with an amused crease in his eyes he pulled you into his lap, your back against his front as both your frames fit together perfectly. "i can already feel your excitement just from where I'm sat..." he dragged a finger up your inner thigh and you arched your back against him, letting out the cutest whine for him. however, he brought his hands away from your legs and settled them on your waist. "tsk.. tsk... this is what happens when you get hasty with your chocolate, my dear." you were getting impatient and getting tired of his teasing. you whimpered, staring to roll your hips into his lap just to feel something even if it was through clothing. you heard him groan just a bit behind you and it sent shivers up your spine. one of his hands on your waist travelled upwards under your shirt, your skin felt so hot against his touch and if he didn't know any better he would assume you were terribly ill. your stomach muscles flexed and twitched under his touch, you couldn't even bite back the moan that escaped you when his fingers traced your ribs.

"sensitive, are we?" he chuckled, pressing his lips underneath your earlobe. when did he take his mask off? "b-be quiet..." you grumbled, only to get punished by his fingers touching your chest. your breath hitched in genuine shock when his hand escaped from your shirt. "k-kiyo-" you were cut off from his hand grasping your chin, squeezing your cheeks with his index and thumb. for a lanky guy, he sure has a strong grip. you heard a familiar snap and the taste of chocolate on your lips.

"open wide, dear..." he whispered. he... he was feeding you another chocolate...? this bitch. but like a good puppy you opened your mouth and let the tainted chocolate fall onto your tongue to melt on your mouth. you couldn't see his face however you were certain he had the most satisfied smile on his face right now. "good, now... let me take care of you, my fine artifact..." his lips travelled the base of your neck as his hands made good work to undo your pants for easier access. you whined and cried for more, your hips kept trying to get some kind of friction even if it was just his erection against your ass, it would help. his fingers curved underneath all of the fabric, opening your legs wider just for him. your entire body jolted as you threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a cacophony of noises as his fingers tenderly stroked where you needed them most. you didn't even know how to react, your legs shook and you practically bounced on his lap as you rock your hips against his hand. his soft groans stimulated you further, that painful knot in your stomach was growing tighter each passing moment he touched you.

he certainly recognised this, ceasing his attack on your neck to hush words into your ear. "are you close... dear?" his words were quiet yet you nearly screamed your own. "y-yes! so close... p-please don't stop, kiyo!" you cried, hand flying backwards to go around the back of korekiyo's neck. he chuckled like a devil, quickening the pace of his strokes on your sweet spots. it made your sex twitch and throb like none other time before. you whined and babbled to him, repeating that you didn't want him to stop, that you were close.

your eyes went crisscrossed and you practically squealed as your climax came to you like a truck, rolling out in waves whilst your hips grinded against his hand. "f-fuck! fuck! kiyo!" your entire body shuddered, calming yourself now as your eyes closed in bliss. that burning feeling in your stomach was still there but it was certainly less painful now. you heard korekiyo chuckle behind you, that was when you came to the realisation how flustered you were.

"you made quite a mess." kiyo teased you, sliding his now messy hand from your undergarments. you were about to give him some immense sass until you felt him tugging you closer. "but I believe it's my turn now." ⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡

-Mod Kirumi

#mod kirumi #danganronpa #oneshot #korekiyo shinguuji #korekiyo x reader #korekiyo shinguuji x reader #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa headcanons #v3 killing harmony #danganronpa v3

[local-pr1nter]

Mondo Oowada Ship Dynamics

Just my opinions and personal Headcanons - if you don't like/agree with these, then please move on!

Assume these are all based in an Non-Despair AU!

Ishimondo

A classic ship. Absolute *chefs kiss*.

At this point it seems canon with the amount of shippers and fan content for these two. Don't get me wrong, I love them just as much as anyone, but even I can admit that they each have other respective ships that can be enjoyed just as much.

Anyways - Ishimondo!

Absolute dorks in love + nothing but respect and love on their parts. It takes a while for them to realize it's a romantic love instead of some brotherly bond as Taka puts it, but once they figure it out it's smooth sailing from there.

Taka encourages rational behavior and responsibilities, whilst Mondo encourages relaxation and realistic ideals. Together they're a good dynamic.

Nerd x former bully/moral compass x delinquent/rivals to lovers. A recipe for success.

Since they've been talked about to death, I won't elaborate much more on them.

But overall, they're a great couple together.

Owamiki

A FAVORITE AHHHHHHHHH

They're literally one of the sweetest pairings and it's a crime they aren't talked about enough. And yeah they never really interact like Taka and Mondo, but that one scene in the V3 Bonus Mode just kills me every dAMN TIME.

I adore them so much UGH - literally the only ship that made me wanna write fanfiction (and I did but we won't talk about that)

Anyway so timid shy girl x brash delinquent let's go.

Mondo definitely fell for her first. Thought she was a damn sweetheart from the moment he laid eyes on her - it only intensified whenever they ran into each other (ex the scene I referenced). Mondo absolutely adores her.

Mikan was oblivious to this and it took Ibuki and Mahiru pointing it out to her for her to notice. God she got so embarrassed and scared over the whole thing, thinking he was just some brute.

Ibuki was the first one to notice that Mondo actually REALLY liked her for her. And then she decided to help Mondo a bit because Ibuki is a matchmaker and I'm tired of pretending she's not.

With Ibuki's advice, Mondo is actually able to approach Mikan without shouting at her (however difficult it was) and expresses his feelings. She decides to give him a chance - after having a moment of confusion and fear once again - and agrees to go on a date.

And y'all. Mondo treats her so good. His volume is still hard to control but he goes out of his way to make her comfortable and happy and it both shocks and confuses Mikan that he actually wants to date her for her.

So they eventually get together!!!! Ibuki is very proud of herself for setting em up and constantly teases them about it.

They're the cliche highschool sweethearts you see in every movie and they're just adorable.

They adore each other - it's really sweet. Mondo thinks she's the cutest thing in the world and it takes every ounce of willpower to not squeal whenever she giggles or acts cute. Same goes for Mikan - she thinks he can be really sweet and adorable, despite his intimidating exterior. Almost like a big dog.

In public they only ever hug - PDA is too much for either of them, but on rare occasions they can be seen hugging, either Mikan hugging his midsection or Mondo wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hold her close.

Mondo is also very protective of her - he encourages her to stand up for herself as well, and doesn't butt into situations where she's got her friends to back her up. That doesn't mean he'll stand back and watch someone harass her - he will intimidate the other until they back off. Mikan doesn't support his violent tendencies at all.

OMG I REALIZED ITS THAT "BIG SCARY DOG PRIVILEGE" MEME HAHAHAHA

That's it that's their dynamic.

It gets better if Mondo's gang learns about her.

She's earned herself a pack of personal bodyguards who won't tolerate shit from anyone.

But anyways, they both stand to have a very sweet and heartwarming dynamic. Between the both of them, they have a relationship built on love, understanding, and mutual respect for one another.

Owagiri

A stoic introverted detective with the foul-mouthed biker delinquent. What more could you want?

God you know Mondo was the first to catch feelings. Albeit her initial cold exterior, Mondo wanted to know more, even after becoming friends (via Makoto), slowly turning into a crush on the mysterious detective.

Leon called him crazy for crushing on the "scary principal's daughter"

Taka and Chihiro were nothing but supportive and encouraging about the whole ordeal.

Daiyas only piece of advice was "Don't be a dick and just talk to her" Easier said than done of course.

But of course we all know his track record with other girls. The man started shouting at her again, much to his embarrassment and to Kyokos disappointment.

It only took some investigating on her end to figure out why he was acting so strange. And OH BOY WAS SHE FLABBERGASTED.

Mondo??? Likes her??? Impossible.

But as she looked at him with this whole new perspective, she slowly started to develop her own feelings. While he struggled to talk to her, Kyoko took a different approach to show her own interest. Subtle touches, faint smiles, more one on one time, subtle signs like that.

It slowly went like that until they both had a talk about their relationship. Then they agreed to give it a shot!

And my god it was a weird change.

Two people, infamous for hiding their emotions from others. Sounds like a disaster. And yet, they slowly start to adapt and change together.

They're both very quiet about the relationship, still trying to adjust and go about it at their own pace.

They're both very shy about any sort of affection or intimacy, finding it difficult to initiate. Although Kyoko quickly discovered she likes to play with Mondos hair when it's freshly washed and down.

That slowly evolved into cuddling sessions - Kyoko playing with his hair while Mondo simply enjoys her company. It only grows from there.

They're pretty casual about the relationship the more they lean into the whole idea, but they've grown pretty close - as friends and as partners.

Despite their initial setbacks, they actually make a sweet couple. Kyoko acts as the voice of reason, whilst Mondo shows Kyoko how to loosen up a bit and enjoy their school life.

Their dynamic is essentially rivals to lovers (if you count THH ch. 2/a non despair AU where their personalities just conflict) and/or badass/stoic person (Kyoko) x person who thinks that's the coolest thing ever and adores them very much (Mondo)

It's honestly a very mature relationship - built on lots of communication and learning from each party. Of course, no relationship could work without communication or understanding. With both parties being Kyoko and Mondo, once they get past both their setbacks and misunderstandings, they have potential to be a power couple. And even if it doesn't work out in the end, they would still have a strong friendship after the fact. A brain x brawn duo always has the potential to be a strong dynamic.

CRIME FIGHTING DUO FOR THE WIN BABYYYYYY

#danganronpa #mondo oowada #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa mondo #headcanons #mondo owada #danganronpa mikan #sdr2 mikan #mikan tsumiki #owamiki #danganronpa kiyotaka #kiyotaka ishimaru #ishimondo #danganronpa kyoko #kyoko kirigiri #owagiri #ship dynamics #danganronpa ships #danganronpa fandom #mondo x ishimaru #mondo x kyoko #mondo x mikan #danganronpa au

[ghostclowning]

anyway this post exists just to let out some things(and also for me to archive things) bc my brain been rotting(help) for quite some time (svsss au long post)

an AU where zzl survives(jk lmao as we all know, he never died<3) but bc of severe wounds he lost some power...tlj's power also was not enough to disguise him as human well enough, but they found a solution - to keep him in a compact "energy-efficient" smaller form. Yes, the obligatory "my demon turned into a child" arc.

But tlj also sees this as a great opportunity to give zzl a new start bc he himself wants to just chill and absolutely doesn't need a second in command for that(besides, he's still young, why waste his life away near this rotting old man? get a life, boy). And so he hands the baby-lang to sqq, cause, naturally, who even would make a better shizun.

Sqq really hesitates but zzl seems to be in despair. as if he doesn't quite understand why his uncle is so eager on giving him away. and he just looks so cute and pettable. and sqq gives in. it's ok if it's just a kid right???sure lbh will get jealous anyway but at least sqq can slap him with a fan for being unreasonable.

His house is now infested with snakes but hey, at least all the other beasts and pests keep away now. His new disciple is...awful with swords(why would he ever learn to hold one when he could turn into a giant snake?? I wouldn't), but is quite helpful around the house(when lbh isn't looking). And has money.

He also looks human most of time when he's not using his demonic powers. When he does, some of his snake traits or demon mark begin to show up, but he and sqq are thoroughly trying to keep his true identity a secret. Sqq actually feels a little bitter about being his "shizun" bc, frankly spoken, it's more like zzl could teach him a thing or two, like some demonic tricks. So sqq just sticks to trying to teach him sword mastery so it would be believable that it's just his disciple.

Over time i even made some concept sketches bc i am so normal about this(his hairstyle was given to him by sqq who once got a little carried away and forgot that zzl is not actually a child...still, if master shen did this, then this is good). Sqq called him Zhu-er and oddly enough, no one suspected a thing...perhaps bc to everyone else he was just a secret character<#

anyway they're having a blast and silly little time(non romantic and never will be)(i just find it wholesome)<-delusional

If you actually read this till the end, I'm impressed(and thank you)

#no tags bc im afraid of being perceived

[more-than-a-princess]

Getting a birthday gift for someone who's a LITERAL PRINCESS (Heckie, she's the ULTIMATE PRINCESS!) was always tricky, but it was not enough to sway this little one then from trying!

Besides, the most important thing was this LITTLE SIS getting to show how much she appreciates and cares for her BIG SIS! For her senior, for her senpai-- and most importantly, her friend!

And so, while it wasn't some grandiose gift offered unto the other on the silkiest of cushions (S-Shh, it's just how she imagined royal events-- especially birthdays to be, okay?), it was still made with her own two hands, with a whole LOTTA LOVE, as always!

"Happi Bethday, sis~!"

With a big ol' hug to the blonde sis' mid section, Itsuki manages to keep her BIG BASKET from accidentally whacking her as she does (Child, you could have just set it down first. But ah well, one suppose that she can't be blamed for being excited then)... Pulling back then, she beams brightly, as she THEN offers it up to her Reaching forward with the other hand, as she lifts the little cloth she had placed on top to reveal what's inside~

Sonia's Birthday Asks 2023 - No Longer Accepting!

Small but mighty, Sonia was almost knocked down by the force of Itsuki's hug. Not that she minded, despite her small gasp of surprise. "Oof!" She exhaled, smiling as a pair of small arms and something decidedly straw-like found their way around her waist. Her friend must have gotten her a present.

"Thank you, Itsuki-chan. You remembered!" She replied once the L'il Ultimate let go and she was able to breathe normally again. Most of the younger students tended to keep to themselves or weren't particularly fond of their high school counterparts, but Itsuki was always a warm and friendly girl, eager to teach Sonia about farming or showing her the newest homemade bracelet she'd crafted. Truthfully, there were times Sonia worried about such a young girl working with such complicated and sharp machinery, but she rationalized it away with the knowledge that Novosonian children as young as kindergarteners were taught to drive and shoot a tank. Surely that was even more dangerous than Itsuki's farming equipment, and according to her father's reports, accidental deaths from tank usage had been on the decline for the past ten years.

Now, she had something new to worry about where Itsuki was concerned. The cookies she'd made looked delicious, there was no doubt of that (and she had far more prowess in the kitchen than Sonia could ever hope to possess, it was a tad humbling). What worried Sonia were the designs Itsuki had chosen: all of her favorite films, from Friday the 13th to A Nightmare on Elm Street, their iconic characters rendered into kawaii cookie forms. With a surprising amount of accuracy.

"Goodness, these look so good!" She told her honestly, torn between eagerness and apprehension as she lifted a Leatherface cookie out of the set: Itsuki had even gotten the various folds, and gore, on his mask replicated on the cookie. "But, ah, Itsuki-chan...have you watched these films? All of these films? They can be rather intense and frightening at times, I would not like you to have nightmares."

Ignore the fact that Princess Sonia of Novoselic saw Halloween randomly on television at the age of eight and never looked back. It took some finesse and creativity as a child to acquire more rated R horror films, but she visually gobbled up everything she could get her hands on until she was able to purchase them herself. But Itsuki was likely different and not so inclined to horror in all of its various flavors: slashers, gore, occult, demonic possession, and so forth. It would not sit well on Sonia's conscience if Itsuki was traumatized by horror films on account of simply wanting to give her a birthday present.

#more-than-a-princess answered #yukikorogashi #Non-Despair AU: Hope's Peak Academy verse #(Sonia's Birthday Asks 2023) #(Sonia is so pleased with this gift but also so concerned) #(Itsuki-chan bb what are you watching do you need an adult) #(Sonia is -sort of- an adult because sometimes chocolate really can be what's for dinner) #(This was very cute! Thank you for sending it)

[oldandkinky]

Wrote a little something based on @spielzeugkaiser s heartwrenching Lovechild AU, because I like to hurt myself, apparently.

CW: A/B/O, vomiting, torture, sad Jaskier, non-linear narrative, unplanned pregnancy

Also on AO3

The first time Jaskier has to pull off the road to go vomit into some bushes, entirely unprovoked by too much to drink or food that has gone off, he brushes it aside. It's a fluke. These things happen.

He keeps telling himself that right up until the sixteenth time, after the mountain, when he wakes up and immediately has to roll to the side of the cheap inn bed he's in to vomit onto the floor instead of the mattress.

After, he lies there, staring at the wall, the sharp scent of his sick in his nose and tears welling up in his eyes. For weeks, Jaskier has tried to ignore the obvious even when it was staring him in the face, but now… Well.

He rolls onto his back and, after a moment's hesitation, reaches down. His hand slips under his shirt, rests on his belly, above the place where he now acknowledges his child is growing.

His, and Geralt's.

*

After the mountain, Jaskier is a mess. He keeps telling himself that, surely, Geralt didn't mean those things, that he was just- overwhelmed, angry, sad, whatever.

He tries to justify it to himself, the way he has so many times before when Geralt was nasty to him. The Witcher has a lot on his plate, he'd tell himself, he didn't mean it, it was nothing personal.

But this time… Well, this time Jaskier can't convince himself. The things Geralt said to him on that cliffside were too close to the insecurities Jaskier has been harbouring all throughout their acquaintance, too close to his own guilt about bringing Geralt to Cintra, about the djinn. That's the only reason why he turns away, why he collects his things and makes his way down the mountain alone.

It doesn't make his heart hurt any less.

*

For a few months, nothing much changes in Jaskier's life. He goes to Oxenfurt, he teaches, he performs. It's all he knows, the one thing that offers stability right now.

He's tired, all the time now, and as the nausea and morning sickness fades, his belly begins to grow. He finds himself sitting in his bed often, stroking the little bump and singing softly, voice cracking as he sings despite the tears.

Jaskier has been on his own in one way or another since he was fourteen, but he has never felt this utterly and completely alone.

*

"Do you have children? A few little wolflings somewhere on the continent?" 

They're curled up in their bedrolls, Geralt's arm slung over his waist. Sweat is still cooling on their skin, and Jaskier looks up at the clouds, dotted across the late afternoon sky like sheep.

Geralt grunts against his shoulder. His thumb is drawing circles onto Jaskier's ribs. "Can't have any," he rumbles. "Witchers are sterile."

Jaskier hums and twists to press a kiss to Geralt's forehead. "Pity," he muses, "we'd make some cute babies."

Geralt huffs, then bites the curve of his shoulder, and Jaskier stops thinking about children entirely.

*

The letter arrives a few weeks after Jaskier has stopped teaching. He spends most of his time in his flat now, writing or composing.

He's not hiding, he tells himself.

It's a summons, a letter from his mother. Word must have reached Lettenhove, rumours that the family disappointment has managed to get himself knocked up, just the way his parents feared all this time.

'Come home at once,' the letter says. Even in written form, his mother's instructions brook no argument.

*

Some nights, when all Jaskier has just enough coin to get enough to eat for Milek, when he remembers the look of despair on the boy's face as he watches yet another group of children at play, children that ignore him because he's a stranger and their parents told them not to play with his sort - meaning with a bastard -, when his own hunger drives him nearly mad…

Some nights, Jaskier hates Geralt. 

He wishes he could bring himself to hate him on most nights.

*

He has never known agony such as this. Giving birth was nothing, nothing, compared to this. His stomach roils at the scent of burning hair, of charred flesh, and he screams his throat raw as the mage grins at him.

He wishes he could think of Milek as his skin sizzles and pops, but all that runs through his head is this: Geralt, please, save me, Geralt, Geralt, Geralt-

It's not Geralt who saves him. Why would it be?

*

"You should have come earlier," Father says, disdain on his face and in his voice.

In Jaskier's arms, Milek fusses. Jaskier is so, so tired. "I know," he says quietly. Father's lip curls.

"We'll find a wet nurse as soon as possible, then you can-"

"No. No, I'm- I'm not doing that."

He walks away, Father's outraged scolding ringing behind him. Jaskier doesn't care. He just wants to sleep, wants to be alone.

That's a lie.

He wants… He wants Geralt. It hurts, the memory of the venom Geralt spit at his feet still so fresh, but Jaskier can't help it.

He wants Geralt. He wants to show him his son, this beautiful little boy they made together.

But he can't. He doesn't know where Geralt is, if he's even still alive. Cintra has fallen. The princess has vanished. Yennefer is presumed dead after Sodden.

There's only Jaskier, and Milek.

*

Yennefer is so much smaller than him, unusually small for an alpha, but right now she may as well have Witcher strength, Jaskier thinks. She's all that is holding him up, that is keeping him from collapsing, and he resents her for it, somewhat.

He guides her to his flat, a dingy little thing over a bakery. Living there had been excruciating in summer, the ovens heating the small space unbearably, but it's been getting colder and now it's a boon.

Roselyn, the baker's oldest daughter, opens the door for them when Jaskier calls for her. Her eyes widen almost comically when she sees his hands. Yennefer sends her running for hot water and bandages with a few curt words, and Jaskier whimpers as she lets him sink onto a chair.

"I'll need your help," he mutters. Now that he's back home, that the terror is wearing off, that he can smell Milek, his chest is starting to ache.

Yennefer scoffs. "Of course you do, just wait for-"

She's interrupted by a whimper, and Jaskier curses when the let-down comes, milk seeping into his shirt. Ah well, it's ruined anyway, with blood and panic sweat, what's a bit of milk added to the mix?

Yennefer stills. Her eyes are wide.

He gets to his feet, ignoring how his legs wobble. Milek begins to fuss, and Jaskier drops heavily onto the bed. "I'm here, sweetheart," he murmurs, then looks up at Yennefer. "Could you…?"

She swallows visibly. Behind her, Roselyn enters, carrying a bucket of steaming water. Yennefer seems to shake herself. Then she gets to work.

*

The first time Geralt kisses him, Jaskier kind of wants to punch him.

Geralt kisses him, in the doorway of their little inn room, and then he turns away and leaves for a contract.

It's so typical.

*

He's a day out of Lettenhove when the cramps start. Jaskier had rented a spot on a caravan, which means it's slow going. There's a woman riding in the back with him, her and her three children. She has been giving him and his big belly sceptical looks the whole journey, and when she catches him wincing through one of the cramps, she calls the caravan to a halt.

"Bloody foolish thing to do," she scolds him as she helps him off the cart. "You oughta be at home with your mate, not traipsing around the countryside-"

Jaskier doesn't know what his face is doing, but it must give everything away, because she falls silent, her expression softening.

"Don't worry, lad," she murmurs as she guides him into the shade by the side of the road. "We don't need no alpha to bring this babe into the world, do we?"

Jaskier grimaces, and nods, and pants through the next cramp. She's right. He doesn't need an alpha.

He doesn't need Geralt. 

He doesn't.

*

When Milek calls him papa for the first time, Jaskier cries.

*

"How is that possible, Jaskier?"

Yennefer is in a chair beside the bed, watching him with a look of shock on her face. She's not a healer, she told him earlier, but her magic was just enough to take off the worst of his injuries. Now, his hands are cleaned and salved and bandaged,  and he's holding Milek close as he nurses.

"I don't know," he murmurs. He has thought about this so often, has tried to figure out how it could have happened. No answer has presented itself.

"Witchers are sterile," Yennefer says, but he can hear the doubt in her voice.

"I don't know," he repeats. "I swear it's the truth. It… It would be easier if it wasn't."

*

Yennefer doesn't accept his offer. Jaskier is at once relieved and crushed by it.

Relieved, because Milek is his. He carried him, nourished him, brought him into the world.

Relieved, because Milek is all he has left of Geralt.

But the terrible weight of it all is pressing in from all sides, and he doesn't know how he is going to survive.

*

Jaskier has changed. He knows part of it is age catching up to him. There are lines around his eyes, his mouth now, his skin grown softer.

But the loose skin of his belly isn't down to age. 

Milek is watching him curiously as Jaskier pokes at himself after his bath, his little curly head tilted to the side.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"Was I really in there?"

"Yes, honey."

Milek looks up at him, eyes so wide and full of wonder. "Can you put another baby in there? We could throw stones."

There's a terrible ache behind Jaskier's breast, and later, when his beautiful little boy asks, "Where's daddy, papa?", it burns as hot as it ever did.

Time should have cured him of this yearning, but it hasn't. He doubts it ever will.

*

When Milek is seven, Jaskier looks up in the tavern he's playing in one day and his heart nearly stops. Across the room, there's an unmistakable head of white hair.

He meets yellow eyes, and it's like his stomach drops out beneath him. All he wants to do is run.

Somehow, through sheer force of will, he finishes his song. His hands are a good excuse to stop playing, the scars making it hard to play for as long as he used to, and he collects his meager coin and hopes that he can duck out of the backdoor before Geralt catches up to him.

A hand on his arm, oh so familiar, stops him dead in his tracks.

"I apologise," Geralt says quietly, in that tone Jaskier recognises as the one he usually uses for children and horses and spooked survivors. "I don't mean to intrude, but… I couldn't help but wonder if, maybe, we know each other?"

This is a cruel joke. It must be, except Geralt isn't the type. Maybe it's a doppler, that would make sense-

"If I'm mistaken, I'm sorry, it's just that I lost my memory and-"

Jaskier turns on his heel, gapes up at him. It's unmistakably Geralt, he realises. There's a new scar, cutting through his left eyebrow and over his cheek, but Jaskier would know his scent anywhere.

He wants to cry. He wants to slap Geralt, to yell at him, wants to fall into his arms and never let him go again. He wants to take him to the shitty little inn room where Milek is waiting, wants to finally, finally, introduce his son to his daddy-

Geralt looks at him without a trace of recognition, and Jaskier swallows thickly.

"No," he says, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. "I'm sorry. I don't know you."

He turns away, and Geralt lets him go.

*

He doesn't know who took him. For someone who has tried to stay out of all of the bullshit happening on the continent for the last couple of years, Jaskier has amassed an astonishing amount of enemies.

He's not scared. Not really. Not for himself, anyway.

No, he's scared for Milek. He's only thirteen, all alone with no clue where Jaskier went.

He curls up on the filthy ground of the cell they tossed him into and tries to hold back his tears. They argued, just before Jaskier was grabbed. He doesn't even remember what about, just that he was so, so angry and so was Milek, and they yelled at each other, and what if that was the last things they said to each other?

What if he never sees his son again?

*

When he hears about the female Witcher that has started taking contract, when he hears about her ashen hair and green eyes, he's torn between relief and anger. It's a familiar feeling after all these years.

Cirilla must be sixteen now, almost a woman. Older than her mother was on that fateful night. The last time Jaskier saw Cirilla, she was barely out of swaddling clothes. It feels strange to think of the girl as a woman.

She's a Witcher now, or as close to one as she can be. That means that Geralt did find her, that he raised her, trained her. It's a weight off Jaskier's chest. Resisting one's destiny is never a good idea.

But it brings flashes of the old anger back. Why could Geralt raise her, and not his own son?

"You kept him a secret," Yen reminds him gently one night, and Jaskier deflates, all at once.

He did.

It was the right thing to do.

*

"Time for bed, baby," he urges when Milek rubs his eyes again. Predictably, the boy shakes his head.

"'M not tired!"

He never is, like all children. Jaskier bribes him with a story.

"Your daddy saved me," he murmurs, stroking the boy's soft hair as Milek cuddles into his side. "He made a deal with a witch, one that could have hurt him terribly, just to save me."

Milek hums and takes his thumb out of his mouth, just long enough to ask, "Because he's a hero, right, papa?"

Jaskier smiles, and ignores the burning in his eyes. "Yeah, baby. Because your daddy is a hero."

#oldandkinky #oldandkinky omegaverse #geraskier lovechild #spielzeugkaiser #oldandkinky pregnancy

[happyshippingnoises]

Platonic BroTP for Nagito + Sonia request: I'd just like to see some very comfy content between these two. In-game there seems to be a fair bit of mutual respect, with Sonia being one of the few that sort of sees some good in Nagito (and feels betrayed when he comes to hate them in Chapter 4 and 5). I personally like to believe that at Hope's Peak, Sonia was one of the only classmates that genuinely considered Nagito a friend, and enjoyed his company in studies or while drinking tea at lunch. Even if he personally didn't believe he was worthy of being her friend, he felt deeply touched that she made him feel like "part of the family". In fact that could turn out to be literal. I'm quite fond of the theory that Nagito and Sonia are actually long lost relatives. Like maybe Nagito's mom was the daughter of a Novoselic second/third princess that left her homeland to run off with a Japanese lover. Making the two of them second cousins. I dunno, maybe just something cute with them at Hope's Peak and post-recovery? Or if you wanted to include the family theory, I could see some canon and non-Despair AU possibilities. Sonia receiving a letter from one of her surviving sisters (now Queen) telling her that while she can't publicly forgive her, she does so in private. And sending her regards to their Japanese cousin too. Or in a non-Despair AU Sonia taking Nagito to visit her homeland and family. By boat of course, since he's terrified of planes.

Honestly, I lean more towards them being half-siblings but cousins also works really well too 🤷‍♂️

in my own theory I like to think that Sonia's mom cheated on the king with Nagito's dad. Nagito's mom found out and tried to flee with Nagito but ended up dying in the airplane. Neither parents elaborated, and Nagito knew about his father cheating yet chose to deny any royal blood in him. (So he wouldn't inconvenience the family)

nagito moved back with his grandparents, realizing he wasn't meant for the royal lifestyle nor weighing the family down with his luck.

HOWEVER I do love the idea of them being childhood siblings/cousins :( so I drew that too from a part of a fanfiction I wrote (I think the mafia one, where nagito's dad was a Don so it just made the family situation a lot crazier with the cheating)

Post recovery I think they find out their relation super late-in and eventually accept it, and sonia helps nagito move in his new apartment (albeit a little too much help).

#i probably lean towards siblings bc im closer to my brother than my other cousins #danganronpa #danganronpa fanart #danganronpa theory #sdr2 nagito #nagito komaeda #danganronpa nagito #nagito fanart #sdr2 komaeda #danganronpa komaeda #komaeda fanart #sonia nevermind #danganronpa sonia #sdr2 sonia

[sweetreserve]

ღ — NAGITO RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

summary. idk you and nagito being cute. note: mentions of eating/food, medication.

pairing. nagito komaeda and (gender neutral) you — romantic.

genre. fluff (but ofc bits of mental illness); hurt/comfort; non-despair au.

a/n. remember when I said I would write during the summer lol anyways srry I haven’t posted the good ole serotonin ran out ;-; but here I am! decided to write something self-indulgent lol as always, apologies if there are any mistakes. hope you enjoy!

You and Nagito were friends for quite some time before entering a relationship. The man has a difficult time understanding his own emotions, especially negative ones, and you were afraid that you would make him uncomfortable if you confessed your feelings.

Nagito was closer to you than anyone else. He would always defend you if someone was rude or disrespectful, he always gave you his lunch (even if you had yours, in which case you tried to persuade him that you didn’t need his lunch and he should eat instead. You end up compromising and share lunches), and you always made sure to involve him in activities with your class.

“[Name], I understand if you would rather attend alone than with me. After all, I’m probably making everyone uncomfortable…”

You grip his hands. “Nagito, if I didn’t want you to come, I would have never mentioned the party in the first place. And you know, everyone cares about you. You’re important, and you deserve to have a good time like anyone else. Where I go, I take you! … I-If you’re okay with it, obviously.”

He lightly laughs and your heart pounds a bit harder. “Of course. Anywhere with you is always pleasant.”

Your classmates tease you when you come to the party still flustered. Nonetheless, they knew the special bond you and Nagito shared, and while some may have had reservations, they truly did care for the both of you. Things were going well!

… Until one day, Nagito began avoiding you.

“I’m sorry [Name], but it’s for the best we don’t speak to each other...”

Since then, every time you entered into his vicinity, he quickly left in the opposite direction. He looked away whenever you glanced at him. When you waited for him to walk home, he quickly and quietly ignored your presence. No acknowledgment, no greeting, and no walk home.

This came as a shock to everyone, of course. You and Nagito were always glued to the hip. So what happened? You went to Hajime for help, which led to a heavy conversation about him.

“I don’t think you did anything wrong, [Name],” Hajime said.

“But… why would he avoid me, then? Oh, Hajime, what if I accidentally hurt him?”

He shook his head. “I doubt you could do anything severe that would cause him to avoid you entirely. Maybe…” Hajime stood deep in thought. “… He realized that… You never left him…”

You frowned. “I mean, of course not. Why would that…?”

After a moment, you and Hajime looked at each other. Of course.

Nagito, the self-deprecating man, never imagined himself to find someone to love or someone to love him back. His upbringing was a cold one, and with his luck, it was no surprise that the thought of emotional attachment pushed him into a state of confusion, panic, and avoidance. You were suddenly a pillar in his life, and if you were to leave, his spirit would collapse. He was afraid, and you didn’t deserve to feel hurt by these new, unexplored emotions of his. So he left before you could say anything. Perhaps, you would forget about him. Doesn’t everyone in the end?

Of course, you had no intentions of leaving. If he didn’t want to be your friend, then so be it. But you were not leaving without having your feelings known. You told Hajime your goodbyes, and aimed to set things straight.

You finally got Nagito alone after multiple attempts of trying. His eyes were pained at your presence, expecting a scolding for leaving you. Maybe you were going to insult him. Maybe you realized what bad of a person he was all along. But you merely held his hands. He didn’t shy away.

“I think… I know why you suddenly left me, Nagito. And I respect whatever you want to do. But… But I want you to know that I never found you a burden. I want to keep spending time with you, and I don’t want you to go through things alone. You’re… someone special to me, Nagito.” You looked at him in the eyes. His eyes shined with tears. “And I want to be with you.”

For the first time, you witnessed Nagito cry in front of you. The man never let this side of him show with his normally calm and relaxed demeanor. But you knew it was because he never let himself feel and understand these unpleasant and scary emotions.

“You deserve to feel love, Nagito. I want you to be happy. If you’re happy without me, please tell me- "

“N-No! [Name], how could I be happy without you? That’s …. No. Rather, you would be happy without me.”

“That’s not true!”

“But it will. Don’t you see? Every moment you’re around me, your hope dwindles because of my luck — aha. How despairing. The longer you’re with me, the more despair corrupts your incredible hope. And you deserve someone who will uplift that hope… Not worthless scum like me.”

You hug him. “You’re not scum! If I wanted to leave you, Nagito, I wouldn’t be here. I want… want you - I don’t want… anyone else.”

You felt Nagito’s body shake in your arms. You didn’t know how, or when, you both collapsed onto the floor, but it didn’t matter. All you remembered was the sound of his heart beating, and his hair tickling your face. His face was tinted red, and you slowly caressed his cheek. At that moment, you vowed that you would never leave him, as long as he wanted you by his side. His luck would not stop you from loving him, and so he allowed your lips to press against his, despite the hammering of his heart.

The beginning of your relationship was rocky, full of push and pulls. Nagito was a lingering presence near you, hyper-alert of your proximity. This was new to him, after all. Every hug, every kiss, and every touch always started with a was this touch okay? Please let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable. Do you still love me? Am I doing something wrong -

“Nagito, love,” you say, pressing a slight kiss to his cheek. “I’m still here. It’s okay.”

His body tenses, but instead of pulling away, he gently hugs you from the waist. “… O-Okay. Only if you’re sure.”

However, once Nagito eased at your touch, and the both of you understood each other a bit more, Nagito’s true feelings finally blossomed - especially his affection for you.

He respects your boundaries, of course, and always makes sure you’re comfortable with his touches. But he cannot help feel his heart burst for your touch at random times. With a quick “is this okay?” he’ll wrap his arms around you and lean into your body. You laugh at his sudden affection, which causes him to become flustered.

“Hehe, I didn’t know you wanted to hug me this badly, Nagito.”

His cheeks burn. “Y-You said this was alright…” You feel him grow nervous.

To calm him, you place a small kiss on his nose. “Of course, I’m just teasing. I never want you to leave.”

You notice when he’s tired, he often forgets his usual rational and calm demeanor, and will flop onto your stomach and cling to your body without realizing what he’s doing. You like playing with his hair and massaging his shoulders as he slowly falls asleep on top of you. It isn’t until he wakes up that he profusely apologizes.

“I-I’m so sorry, [Name]! D-Did I do something wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I? I’m such a -"

You quickly cut him off. “Nagito, you only fell asleep on me. It’s alright,” you said soothingly. “You’re very warm, anyway. Like a blanket!”

“[Name]…”

“I mean it! I promise, you did nothing wrong.” You kissed him and pulled him back toward you. “You may sleep on me as many times as you’d like.”

He sighs, but allows your touch and slowly closes his eyes.

You also realize that Nagito never spends a day without spoiling you to some degree. He’s… well, pretty rich.

“Nagito… ? What is this?”

“Oh, it’s just something I found when walking home. I thought it would look nice on you and decided to buy it.”

“… Isn’t this brand expensive?”

“… Hm, I suppose it is.”

“Nagito!”

You lightly scold him and tell him not to spend his money on such expensive gifts, especially material things. But somehow, there’s always brand new, high quality sets of markers and pens on your desk, or a new watch you meant to replace, or a new office chair to replace your old, squeaky one you’ve mentioned to him. He doesn’t stop giving you presents despite your assurances, as you were the ultimate hope of his life, and he wants to treasure you.

Nagito realizes a new world of hope just from being with you. You invite him to all sorts of places he’s never been to or things he’s never done…

… Like going to the theater! He loves to see you happy, so he has no opinions on the movie. As long as he’s with you, you could pick or do just about anything. Of course, with a bit of convincing, he’ll help you pick a movie and add his input, albeit a bit reluctantly.

Though, most of the time, the movie isn’t exactly your highest priority…

“Here, Nagito, try some!” you said, plucking a piece of popcorn and leaning towards him.

Nagito's usually absorbed in the movie and doesn't like to be distracted. However, once he hears your voice, he immediately turns toward you. “U-Um, but [Name], it’s your food…”

“Oh, we used to share food all the time! You know it’s alright.”

“But… isn’t it a bit different now?”

“… Nope! You’re still you, and I love feeding you. Here you go,” you say as you slowly inch the popcorn towards his mouth. He nods and blushes as he opens his mouth. He tries to pay attention to the rest of the movie! But it's difficult when you're around...

You also find out that despite Nagito’s luck causing accidents in the kitchen, his food is… actually pretty good? He tries making all sorts of your favorite meals when he can despite the trouble he has, and you often find him waiting for you to eat lunch together! Or go out if his food is beyond fixing. You try to convince him to eat if he’s hungry, but he can’t imagine himself eating alone anymore. Perhaps because of his feelings of isolation that slowly haunt him when he’s alone? Feelings of his life before you…?

Anyway, because he cares about you so much, and is naturally a very observant person, he’ll make sure you’re eating foods that are not only delicious, but healthy and nutritious! He sincerely doesn’t mind cooking or buying food for you, and will always come up with balanced meals! (Of course, you have to get him to eat. He sometimes forgets he also exists).

And because Nagito is observant, he notices when you forget to take any necessary medication.

Every morning he’ll place your pills on your bedside table, and he’ll ask you once you’ve eaten breakfast, or right before bed, if you’ve taken your medication. If you don’t have a schedule, he essentially creates one for you so you don’t forget to take any important doses. He always encourages you lovingly though - he doesn’t want to push your boundaries, but he also worries about your health, so expect him to be a bit concerned and motherly at times.

Reading is a hobby of Nagito’s, and you often find him reading before midnight. He has trouble sleeping due to nightmares, so reading before bed often calms him down.

Now that you’re here, though, his nights go much smoother! If you’re not embarrassed, you read his book of interest while he lays next to you, his white hair sprawled on your lap. Your voice, regardless of the way it sounds, relaxes him, and you realize after a few chapters that his breaths become slow. Nights without your voice become difficult to bear.

If it becomes a habit of you two, Nagito feels the need to read to you as well! He’s a bit nervous at first, but as he continues reading, you feel him become more confident and immersed into the story. You usually fight a battle between falling asleep to his beautiful voice or staying awake to listen to it, but sleep always overtakes you.

And when you wake up in the morning, Nagito is a koala at your side, never letting go of your body. He apologizes when he awakens, but you only hold him back tighter underneath the covers. Sometimes you pepper kisses all over his face and neck and hug him tightly, leaving a very flustered and weak Nagito. Sometimes, he tears up over the heartfelt affection. You’re intimate with him in a way he’s never experienced. And every morning feels like another miracle.

It is inevitable that Nagito will sometimes revert to his old state, isolating himself and questioning his worth. He’s much more approachable now, but his pain is nevertheless still very prevalent.

You feel him hold back a bit more, keep quiet when he normally says what’s on his mind, and wake up to an empty spot beside you. During these times, you make sure to remind him that you have no plans on leaving him.

“[Name], you shouldn’t touch me. I’m filthy. Disgusting… Don’t you see who I really am?”

You gently guide Nagito to sit on the edge of your bathtub. After turning on the faucet, you slowly remove his shirt.

“How could anyone touch such scum like me? Seeing your hope only proves that you’re too good for me…”

The warm water rushes between your fingers, and you feel a spark when your hands glide against his upper body. You rub small circles into his shoulders and back. His words tumble out slowly.

“Why would… anyone … want to see me… like this? Why…”

You work your way up to his scalp, and he ceases altogether. His eyes close, and he leans his head into your hands that lather his hair with shampoo. You whisper words of assurances.

“You’re beautiful, Nagito. Every day, I’m glad to have met you. You’re so kind, and respectful, and smart…”

You stay like that for some time, making sure he’s comfortable and relaxed as you wash him as gently and lovingly as you can. As you finish washing him, you notice his cheeks are wet. He doesn’t say anything.

“You must be cold, Nagito. Let’s get you warmed up and dry, okay?” You bring him close to you and press a small kiss on his cheek. He lets out a small sigh. “Okay…”

He cries when you shower him with such love. But he never pulls back. Every time you compliment him, he feels that it’s simply not real. But each time, with every touch, he slowly comes back to reality - a reality where you love him, and he’s allowed to love you.

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #x reader #danganronpa x reader #nagito komaeda #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa x gender neutral reader #daydreams [💭]