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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

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OVER MY HEAD

18+ / mdi

summary: moving out of state for college was a terrifying experience for most people. fortunately for you, you had your older brother wonwoo to guide you while there, and even better, his best friend mingyu.

content: brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.

wc: 15k

a/n: idk how frats work so im sorry for any inaccuracies T-T

cont.

masterlist | kofi/patreon

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Wonwoo was only ten years old when his parents decided he was old enough to venture out into his neighborhood alone, immediately wanting to seek his established group of friends from school to run amok, free of parental supervision. This was not without condition, however, as Wonwoo's swift exit was halted by his mother, a very small you in hand as you stared up at your brother.

Most boys would've groaned at their mother's insistence in including their little sister in their outings. Fortunately for you, your older brother Wonwoo was not like most boys. Being your elder by one year, Wonwoo had easily found a best friend in you, not caring for the looks of annoyance he received when he walked up to his friend's house with you in hand, ready to introduce his little sister to his group of friends. Whether the groans of annoyance ever peeved Wonwoo off or not, he never let it show. He tended to ignore any complaints that came from his friends over the years at the inclusion of a younger girl in every occasion. Despite the childish annoyance his friends had at your presence, Wonwoo didn't seem to care, continuing to indulge you as a friend more-so than just a sister as the both of you grew up. Had your mother not asked Wonwoo to include you that first time, you firmly believe Wonwoo would have still found a way to worm you into his social life. He was your best friend after all.

It went like this for years. Every friend group Wonwoo was a part of, every outing, every landmark in his life, you were always there. It was easy for you to befriend Wonwoo's friends over the years. As you both grew up, friends came and went, leaving you and Wonwoo to be one of the only constants in each other's lives. His friends were your friends, and vice versa. The more you grew up, the less new friends of his complained about your presence, having grown out of the 'girls are gross!' phases of their lives. However, there was always one anomaly. One outlier who never dared boo at your presence. And that was Kim Mingyu.

You had met Mingyu at the young age of 9 years old. That same day your brother first brought you along to meet his friends, with you shyly hiding behind his back as they all groaned at the intrusion of a little girl. ('I'm only one year younger', you had thought to yourself at the time). It was almost a chorus of complains, except for one silent voice. That of Kim Mingyu's. The small boy, aged 10, just like your brother, made it a point to step forward and stretch his hand towards yours, promptly introducing himself as Kim Mingyu, Wonwoo's best friend. At first that didn't sit right with you. What did he mean by Wonwoo's best friend? That was your title! Despite your initial childish annoyance, you didn't let it show. You were just excited to meet your brother's friends, feeling an extra bit of appreciation for the boy who welcomed you with open arms.

You kept meeting routinely after that. You'd begrudgingly attend school, being separated by gender during recess throughout all of elementary school, thus unable to hang out with your brother and his friends. And then you'd arrive home, ready to head out and play around with Wonwoo's crew. You grew together like this. Finally in middle school you were able to join Wonwoo's friends even at school. Despite being used to your presence, this still caused controversy among the boys, not wanting to sour their vibe with the presence of a pre-teen girl (But they were pre-teens too, you had thought). But once again, Mingyu welcomed you with open arms, having by now befriended you, and by then even forming a slight rivalry with you over the title of Wonwoo's best friend.

It went on like this until high school. By now, Wonwoo's various friend groups had dispersed with the passing of time. Some friends came and went, while some branched out to other people. The only constants were Wonwoo, Mingyu and, of course, you. You'd hang out with the tall duo every day, never really bothering to make friends of your own. You were not a loner nor a loser by any means; you did have friends, but you knew where your home was, and that was with your brother and his best friend. This is what made junior year of high school even more devastating for you. What was supposed to be a fun year, attending junior prom and preparing for senior year, was filled with isolation from your two best friends, as they were constantly taken away from you by preparation for university. You had dreaded this day. The day you'd pass from being a junior to a senior, inevitably leading to your brother's graduation and subsequent departure as he left for college.

It hadn't been that bad. Mingyu and Wonwoo had gotten accepted to the same college, urging you to come visit whenever you wanted, and reassuring you that in only one more year you'd be reunited. Senior year proved to be hard. Despite having friend groups to fall back on now that your brother was gone, you still missed the elder's presence. And that of who had now become one of your greatest friends; Kim Mingyu. On the rare occasion that Wonwoo was gone - occasions which increased as his college schedule began to become more and more polluted, - Mingyu was always there for you. The man who never treated you as a nuance, but who thoroughly enjoyed your company as much as he did Wonwoo's. He had come to become a nucleus in your life.

Time went by very fast. After a grueling year of separation, you were finally ready to attend university. Your communication with Wonwoo had died out a bit over the year, but you simply chalked it up to scheduling issues and him dealing with the stress of his new lifestyle. Mingyu had surprisingly remained more constant, always updating you on both his life and that of Wonwoo's. Despite any changes in your dynamic, your plan to reunite was still ongoing. You had applied to the same school Mingyu and Wonwoo ended up at, ecstatic at the acceptance letter you received a few months later. It had been decided, you were now to follow in your brother's footsteps and attend university with him. This was the moment you'd waited for a whole year, and it was now finally here.

Attending university was something that terrified you. You no longer had set schedules or teachers that made everything as straightforward as they once did. You were now expected to do things on your own, like any adult. You were also now living alone. Well, with a roommate. But it felt all the same. You had hoped you'd somehow move into some apartment off campus with your friend and brother, but that hope soon died after Wonwoo hit you with the news that they had both joined a fraternity, meaning their housing was already allotted for.

You hadn't wanted to tell your brother about your fears of college life, not wanting to give him the burden, yet again, of holding your hand as he led a path for you. It was only your first week, you reasoned, you'd get the hang of things soon enough.

With your first week came your second and your third, leaving you worn out at how lonely you felt even now that you were so close to your brother. It seemed like his priorities had changed a bit over the past year. Your usually shy and reserved brother had become well known around school, having joined many clubs and even working around school. While still the good boy you always knew him as, his attention was elsewhere for once; no longer putting his sole focus on you. He was busy, with his mind clearly elsewhere at all times. You had expected him to branch out in college, knowing that was simply the natural course of life, but it still disheartened you a bit, having hoped against reason that you'd always be as close as you were as kids. This had come as a heartbreaking revelation to you. You decided to not let it be known, however, choosing to make the best of the few times your brother would still have time to hang out with you.

Like today. Today was your first frat party. Your initiation, as Mingyu called it. Your brother and friend were excited to introduce you to college life, wanting to be present as you attended your first party, just as precaution. You appreciated their concern, truly, still feeling anxious at the brand new environment.

You found yourself alone after a bit, with Wonwoo being dragged away by some of his fraternity brothers, claiming they needed help doing a beer run. You'd learned recently that Wonwoo had made his presence in the frat well-established, usually tending to frat duties out of his own volition. You didn't see him again after that. Your loneliness didn't last for long, however, as you soon found a familiar shadow behind you. Kim Mingyu.

"Hey, baby. How's the party going? Having fun?", he had taken the habit of calling you baby as of recently, teasing you over what he claimed to be an age difference between the two of you.

"The drinks suck, Wonwoo left, I'm overdressed, and I keep freaking out whenever guys approach me," you listed off, sipping the drink in your hand regardless of its stale taste.

"Guys? Who's 'guys'? No one should be talking to you, you're Wonwoo's sister," he had also taken the habit of being overprotective, specially since your arrival at university, at some point giving you a stern talk about which type of guys you should avoid. You felt it kind of hypocritical, really, seeing as Mingyu was the center of attention for many girls at the party.

"Also, you look beautiful. There's no such thing as overdressed," he was also sweet and thoughtful, you remembered.

"Thank you, Gyu. You should go mingle! Don't feel like you have to babysit me."

"Babysit you? We're best friends, I don't know if you remember? We haven't hung out since you moved into campus! Come on, let me make you a better drink," and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to a secluded area of the fraternity's kitchen, pulling out various bottles and making a concoction of who knows what.

"Here. Don't ask what it is, and don't tell your parents I fed you alcohol."

You weren't much of a drinker back home, but upon arriving to college you knew you'd have to be down to drink every now and then, so without thinking too much of it, you sipped Mingyu's drink. But that had been a mistake, as you promptly spit out what you could only assume to be lighter fluid in a red solo cup.

"Mingyu, what the fuck?! Did you just give me fucking gasoline? How can you drink this?"

He chuckled at your reaction, gently dabbing your lips with a napkin to get rid of the remnants of the alcohol you'd spit out.

"Okay, too strong for you. Got it. Sorry, baby. Forgot you're still a little kid."

"One year, Mingyu. Eight months, actually."

"Same difference! Now come on, come dance with me. Don't want your first party to be a waste."

You spent the rest of the night like this, being dragged back and forth by a very excitable Mingyu as he showed you what he believed to be the 'proper way to party' in a frat. You appreciated his company. Immensely. All while you forgot the one person who was missing from this important first-time in your college life.

The next time you saw Mingyu was the very next morning. Upon answering the incessant knocks on your door, you were met with a very soft-looking Mingyu, sporting sweats and with two coffees in hand.

"Hey, baby. Hungover?", he stepped in without a verbal welcome, handing you a coffee in the process.

"No, Mingyu. I didn't even get to finish a drink after you fed me literal gasoline. How are you not hungover, you drank like crazy!"

He shrugged, 'You get used to it. You should ask your brother. He went kinda crazy freshman year. He's chilled out a bit this year. I think he might've been overcompensating back then', he rambled.

"Well, you can ask him for me when you see him," you mumbled sadly, hating the reminder that you'd barely seen your brother since your arrival.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Gyu. Never mind."

"No, tell me. You're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me everything," he nudged you, coming to sit next to you on the couch. He kept calling you that too, since your arrival. You had to admit, you appreciated the swift evolution of your friendship with Mingyu upon your brother's absence as your best friend. But part of you felt as if Mingyu was only doing it out of pity, well aware that Wonwoo had been too busy for you lately.

"Mingyu, you're the only one to still think that. We're not even a friend group anymore. Wonwoo's growing out of it. Clearly. There'll probably come a point where we do too."

He stayed quiet for a beat. Okay, maybe that was too intense for a 9am ice breaker.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm friends with Wonwoo. I'm friends with you. Is there anything else to it? Anything I missed??"

"Wonwoo and I haven't spoken properly in weeks. You don't have to keep tabs on me for him anymore. I guess this was just the natural course of life."

"Baby, I'm not 'keeping tabs on you.' You're my best friend. How many times do I have to say it? I don't care that you're Wonwoo's sister. I never have. You know that."

He was right. He'd never made a distinction between you and Wonwoo as far as friendship went. You could even argue that you'd grown closer to Mingyu than Wonwoo during the past few years. The thought depressed you, but it also reassured you of your friendship with Mingyu. You had been slightly insecure of your friendship with Mingyu ever since you'd grown closer, seeing how popular and well loved he was, so it was nice to hear reassurance directly from him.

"You know what, fuck Wonwoo! Let's hang out. Just the two of us."

You laughed, knowing he was kidding at the expletive against your brother, but finding yourself agreeing to his proposal.

"Okay. Where are you taking me?"

"Mingyu! Since when do you have a bike?!"

In front of you stood what you could only assume to be your friend's latest impulsive purchase. A black motorcycle you were hoping he did not intend for you to ride.

"C'mon! We used to ride bikes together all the time! This is literally the same thing."

"Bikes? Do you mean bicycles? Yes, Gyu. We rode kiddie bikes, never this!"

"Baby, if you don't get your ass on this bike, I'm gonna pick you up and do it myself."

And with that you found yourself cruising through the city on the back of Mingyu's bike, clutching onto his waist as you felt the wind flow against you.

Arriving was quick. Where you arrived is what you didn't know. You were on a field, far from the general public, on a secluded area hidden by some trees but still with a nice view of the lake in front of you.

"Wonwoo and I hang out here sometimes. No one ever really comes to this part of the park because of how secluded it is. Takes a while by foot, but my bike gets us here pretty quick," he answered your question before you had a chance to verbalize it.

"Hmm. And you brought me here, why?"

"Well," he sat down, patting the patch of grass next to him so you would follow him in his actions, "you seem stressed. Thought maybe you'd wanna vent to me a bit. Like in senior year?"

He was right again. During your lonely final year of high school you had made it a habit of calling up Mingyu whenever your mood soured. You hadn't really stopped to think about how much of a constant presence Mingyu had been to you since your brother began to become more busy.

"It's nothing," you said, laying your head against his shoulder as you both stared at the lake in front of you, enjoying the serenity of the sight.

"Come on. Tell me. I won't tell anyone, pinky promise," he put out his pinky, dragging yours from your lap and intertwining them together.

"It's just .. Wonwoo. I miss him."

"Baby ..." he coo'd at your sad tone, "I know you do. He's just been busy. He loves you, you know that."

"I know, but I haven't really seen him in a while. It's so out of the ordinary for us. Is it the frat? What's keeping him busy, I mean."

"Maybe. Might be school too, his major's pretty hard. I'm not sure, actually. We haven't hung out in a while either."

Oh. So it wasn't just you. That made you feel a bit better.

"It's just. Fuck. It's so dumb. It shouldn't get to me like this. It's just my stupid brother. It's not like we'd be best friends forever," but the more you spoke, the more emotional you got, eventually feeling tears fall form at your eyes at the thought of you and your brother falling away from each other.

"Aigoo. Baby, don't cry. You're too pretty to cry," he wiped your tears with his big thumb, turning to sit even closer to you.

You looked into his eyes, feeling instant comfort from the sweetness in his gaze. You almost fell into a trance, not being able to disconnect your eyes from those of your best friend.

"Listen. How's this? We can just stick together. He can have his space, and when he's ready, we'll both be here, together. How's that sound, pretty? Wanna be my bestie? Promise I won't ever ditch you," he held your hand up again to link with his pinky once more.

He had a way of always comforting you, always putting your feelings above his. Like now. You had just found out his own best friend was icing him out in the same way he did you, yet he was comforting you.

You didn't feel the need for a verbal response, instead unlinking your pinkies and hugging him in return, humming in affirmation as he held you back.

The two of you became even closer after that. You'd join Mingyu at every frat party from then on, occasionally seeing your brother in passing as he was always on his way out, sharing very short moments of interaction with the two of you. Mingyu's constant company helped you reason Wonwoo's absences, taking a page from Mingyu's book and being more understanding.

You'd spent the entire night together, hanging back as you drank and talked, with Mingyu fending off any of his frat brothers who tried to drag him away under the vice of 'fraternity duties.' He seemed to be glued to you, not wanting to leave you alone. Any girls seeking his attention were also quickly sent away by him. You appreciated this, feeling slightly bad at hogging Mingyu's attention all night. But he didn't seem to mind. No matter how insistent you were that he could go mingle, he'd be twice as insistent that he'd rather hang with you.

He'd also visit you almost every other morning, coffee in hand as he walked you to your morning class, even if it meant he'd be late for his own. He had become the biggest presence in your life, swiftly replacing your brother who you hadn't even gotten do see in a few days. You'd spend almost every day together, never tiring of each other's company.

Even now, you were walking towards Mingyu's frat house, seeking his aid in your intro to psych course, knowing that Mingyu had taken that exact same professor his freshman year. He had told you previously that he and Wonwoo had kept a few of their freshman year notes, aware that you'd be joining them this year and would likely take the same basic classes they did when they'd first arrived.

You had known that Wonwoo and Mingyu shared rooms within the frat, but since you had not seen your brother in a few days, you were surprised at finding him upon knocking on Mingyu's door.

"Oh. Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Wonwoo," you walked past him and into the room.

"That's not what I meant. I meant I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Really, Wonwoo? I've been around."

"Yeah, I've seen you at parties and stuff. Haven't really gotten to talk to you, though. How's school? Anything you need help with?"

If there was anything your brother was, it was dense. He always had the tendency of getting lost in his own head. It didn't help that he'd sometimes fail to pick up on context cues. His innocent face as he asked about your recent whereabouts made it difficult to express any frustration at him, knowing he probably wasn't even well aware that he'd been ghosting you.

"Nothing, Wonwoo," you sighed, "I'm supposed to meet with Gyu today to go over some notes. What about you? Where have you been lately?"

"Oh. Gyu? He's in the shower, he should be back soon," he half-answered your questions. You shot him an expectant look as you waited for him to continue.

"Well?"

"What?", you continued to stare, "Oh. Oh! Sorry. Yeah, maybe I should explain, right?", he paused. "I've been busy. There's not much else to it. The frat, photography club, been thinking of joining an internship. There's too many things. Been talking to a girl too .. I didn't mean to just leave you alone like that, I'm sorry," he continued, but you'd tuned him out a bit. Why was he telling you all of this now?

"-Mingyu told me you'd been having a hard time your first week here, after that party? So I asked him to look out for you while I figured out my scheduling of things. I'm glad to see you two hanging out again, like in high school."

It had been Wonwoo? What about what Mingyu said? About you and him being friends, not needing Wonwoo to join you as best friends. You felt kind of deflated at Wonwoo's confession. You'd already kind of assumed he was busy, simply dealing with school work as the overachiever he had always been. Hearing that Mingyu's presence was a result of Wonwoo's pity was a hit in the gut, though. Were you really just the annoying little sister that needed constant supervision? You were no longer feeling sour at Wonwoo, but rather at the thought of your friendship with Mingyu being disingenuous. It hadn't felt that way when you were together, and you were sure Mingyu must've liked your company to some extent. But thinking about the implications behind Wonwoo's push to get Mingyu to watch over you made you feel small, it made y-

"Y/N? Are you listening?"

Oh. You'd gotten lost in your head and completely tuned out Wonwoo without realizing.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I want to spend time with you, I really do. I promise I'll do better. I guess I got used to your absence while I was away. Mingyu hounded me over it last week, said you were feeling down about it. I never meant to make you feel like we weren't friends. I'm sorry."

You felt both disappointed and touched. You hated thinking of Mingyu and Wonwoo talking about your feelings behind your back. Well, maybe not behind your back, seeing as Wonwoo had no issue letting you know. It was still embarrassing nonetheless. It was hard not to let all those years of being known as Wonwoo's annoying little sister get to you at times; just a leech that clung to him instead of making friends of her own. You didn't want to believe that Mingyu felt the same way too. But what were you supposed to believe when someone like Mingyu showed so much interest in you? Yeah, sure, it made sense back in middle school when he was still an awkward preteen. Maybe even in high school when he was a bit of a try hard. But in college, where he was member of a frat and nothing short of a heartthrob, it just didn't make sense to you that he'd stick by you out of his own volition. And Wonwoo's words did nothing to help your pre-existing insecurities about it.

But maybe this was all in your head. It was just your best friends looking after you, right? You should've just appreciated the apology and moved on. Which you did, really. But you still couldn't help but wonder.

The rest of your conversation with Wonwoo went as you'd expect. You caught up with each other, just like you would've years ago. It felt nice. Comfortable. It was like falling, knowing there was someone there to catch you. It reminded you of how you'd felt with Mingyu for these past months since your arrival to college. But different. You loved your brother more than anything, but part of you couldn't help but keep the thought of Mingyu in the back of your head even as you were deep in conversation with your brother. Despite having missed him, you now missed Mingyu's presence, even if it was only for a mere moment. Part of you kind of hoped your brother would stay busy so you could keep Mingyu for yourself. You weren't sure what you were feeling. It was just a mixture of emotions jumbling up your stomach.

Your thoughts were then rudely interrupted by the entrance of a very wet Kim Mingyu, your conversation with Wonwoo halting simultaneously. It was like a scene out of a very shitty novel. The steam flowing behind him as he dapped at his hair with a small towel, a bigger one covering his nether region as he entered the room, top half wet and uncovered. This probed no reaction out of Wonwoo. And arguably, no reaction from you, as you immediately looked the other way as if you'd been burned.

"Oh, you're here? Shit, forgot we were supposed to meet an hour earlier, my bad," he responded as if he wasn't standing half naked in front of you. You still made it a point to not look into his eyes, simply squeaking out a short ''s fine' in return.

Wonwoo chuckled at your flustered state, "C'mon, you've seen him in more compromising positions. Remember when he came out of the pool sophomore year with his trousers all the way down? This is nothing. I see worse every day," Mingyu visibly winced at the memory, halting his actions for a second to throw a glare at Wonwoo.

You remembered, but that was pre-pubescent Mingyu!! He did not hold a candle to whoever was standing in front of you in this moment.

"Didn't account for seeing a naked Mingyu today or ever again, thank you! I'll wait outside. You're late, by the way," you bumped Mingyu jokingly before promptly exiting the room, hoping your act had been bought.

You kind of hated the idea of waiting in the common area of a fraternity, not because of the people, but more so the implications of it. Specially knowing your friend and brother would most likely talk about you behind the closed door, but it was either that or be confided in a room with Mingyu as he changed while your brother's presence loomed over you.

You waited in silence, leaning against a wall for a good minute until you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey! It's you again," it was Yoon Jeonghan, if you weren't mistaken. He was one of the guys you'd spoken to that first time you'd partied in the fraternity, before Mingyu found you and took you under his wing for the night. It was also one of the guys Mingyu had warned you not to speak to (and it had been a long list), citing that he was a 'menace' and he just didn't like the idea of you speaking to him. You'd liked him, though. Despite having only spoken to him for a few minutes that night, he seemed decent enough to hold a conversation with.

"Hi, Jeonghan."

"You remember my name? That's crazy. Must've left an impression on you, huh?"

"Shut up. There's only like twelve of you here, it's not that hard."

"Thirteen," he corrected before continuting, "Oof, you're on first name basis with thirteen guys? What will Mingyu say?", he snickered as he leaned against the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, but head facing you.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, you're Mingyu's girl. You're off limits. Well, double off limits since you're Wonwoo's sister. If any of us comes near you, we're dead."

You still didn't really understand what he meant. Wonwoo never really cared who you dated. He even encouraged you, as any friend would. He never pulled the 'brother card', nor got in the way if you showed interest in one of his friends (which had happened before, circa the early 2010's when you'd crushed on his bio partner Johnny, but no one needs to know about that disaster). The mention of Mingyu's name made even less sense, seeing as you weren't related in any way. You were interested by the intel Jeonghan was giving you, though, so you decided to play along.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, Gyu warned us all to stay away, said something about you being different from other girls at the frat. Was kinda a dick about it, to be honest," he trailed off.

"Then why are you talking to me?"

He snickered again, leaning closer to you, "I like to live on the edge."

That made you laugh, slapping his shoulder as you unintentionally decreased the distance even more. That's unfortunately when Mingyu finally walked through the door, smile fading at the picture of you and Jeonghan standing so close to each other while Jeonghan pulled laughter from you.

He cleared his throat, interrupting your laugh. "What are we laughing at, Jeonghan?", he gave a tight-lipped smile.

"You," he deadpanned. It was silent for a minute, sans your quiet snort at Mingyu's clear annoyance of the guy, "Well, I'm bored now, I'm gonna go. I'm sure I'll see you around," he winked at you as he clicked his tongue at Mingyu and made his exit, leaving behind a clearly peeved off Mingyu.

You both watched him leave before you turned to face your friend.

"Where's Wonwoo?", you broke the silence. It took him a second to reply, still glaring in the direction in which Jeonghan had left.

"Oh. He's got plans today. Shocking, I know. He's killing time til his meeting with the photography club."

"Ah. Okay .. Do you have your things?"

"What things?"

"The notes? That's kinda why I'm here ..."

"Shit, right. Yeah, I do. Sorry, Jeonghan threw me off," he paused, "What, uh, what were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. He was just keeping me company while we waited," why tell him what you know when Mingyu was seemingly keeping a few things from you himself, you thought.

"Okay, gotcha. Well, I guess we should go," and with that, you walked towards the exit, heading for Mingyu's bike to go to the spot Mingyu and you had been frequenting.

You studied for a while, attempting to stay focused on the notes Mingyu had been explaining to you. But you couldn't help but he distracted by what Wonwoo had told you, and then interrupting those thoughts by thinking of what Jeonghan had said. You wanted to be straight up and ask Mingyu his intentions with you; whether you were a friend or whether he was simply doing your brother a favour by staying by your side. There was no sensible way of doing it, though. At least not without sounding like a wounded little girl.

"Okay," he suddenly looked up from his book, interrupting the silence, "Something's clearly distracting you. Did Jeonghan say something? You can tell me, you know."

"What? No. He didn't say anything. It was .. it was Wonwoo, actually," you trailed off, not really meeting his eyes.

"Wonwoo?", this seemed to get his attention, as he sat up and broke the one sided eye contact he'd been trying to have with you, opting to look to your side instead, "What did he say?"

"It's just .. Mingyu. I need you to be honest with me, okay?"

He gulped, very uncharacteristic to his usually confident demeanor. You weren't sure why.

"Did Wonwoo put you up to this? He made it seem like maybe ... like maybe this was his idea? You asking me to hang out and stuff. Maybe out of, uh, pity?", you mustered out, feeling embarrassed at even vocalizing your insecurities about your relationship with the man sitting across from you.

He sighed in relief, very unlike the reaction you'd expected, "Oh, god. That? Baby, I already told you. Wonwoo has nothing to do with this. I mean, okay, yeah, he suggested I watch out for you, but that was well after I saw you at that party. It was his idea, except it was mine first. He didn't have to force any pity into me, because I wanted to stick to you even before I knew he'd been ghosting you too."

Oh. You had misunderstood. Again. First your brother and now Gyu. You should've known Mingyu was too nice of a guy to lie to your face like you'd assumed. He was also a terrible liar.

He took your silence as a cue to continue. 'I already told you, I won't ditch you, I even pinky promised! I'm your friend. I know we've only ever been friends while Wonwoo was there, but we can be friends without him, can't we? Now stop doubting my friendship! You're starting to make me feel bad', he pouted, scooting closer to you as you both sat on the grass.

You sighed, "You're right, Gyu. I'm sorry. I swear this will be the last time I let my irrational thoughts get the best of me, okay?"

"Good. Now pay attention, I didn't keep last year's homework hidden in my closet for a whole year for you not to use it."

You and Mingyu kept hanging out just like before, now with that cloud of doubt off your mind. Wonwoo would occasionally join you whenever he found time in his busy schedule, fulfilling the promise he had made you that day in his room. But despite that, it was still mostly just you and Mingyu, seeing as you'd grown closer in the past months.

Your relationship grew as the months passed, spending most of your time with one another. Mingyu always made it known through his actions how much he cared about you as a friend, always including you in outings, walking you to class, scaring off any guys who tried to talk to you, escorting you to parties as your date, helping you remove your makeup after a long night of drinking, holding your hand as he walked you home at night, occasionally staying over when tiredness won over the two of you. Just friend things, really. Except you weren't so sure anymore.

With the passing of time also came the evolution of your feelings. There was too much Mingyu in your life, you were beginning to go a little crazy. You hadn't realized how touchy Mingyu was until you had begun hanging out with him without your brother around. You weren't sure if this was normal. You'd never received such affection from any of your brother's other friends, nor did you ever notice Mingyu ever being this touchy with anyone else. Regardless of the reasoning, there was only so much more you could take before breaking. You'd begun to realize that maybe .. maybe this wasn't just a friendship. At least not to you. Maybe this was why you felt so insecure in the beginning, wondering why Mingyu showed interest in you. You were afraid that maybe, without realizing, you'd confused Mingyu's friendship for more, leading you to a fight within yourself about what it meant for you and Mingyu to become the dynamic duo you now were, growing a relationship outside of Wonwoo.

It didn't help that you hadn't met anyone since coming to university. You'd made friends, sure, but most of your time was (willingly) taken up by Mingyu, and maybe on occasion Wonwoo. Any boys who tried to approach you were swiftly warded off by a very tall and intimidating Mingyu. You were kind of well known at that point for being off limits. Lots of guys saw you as unapproachable, either out of respect for your brother, or out of fear of your best friend. You weren't sure why Mingyu had become even more protective than your brother. You had your hopes as to why, but you knew that this was a 10+ year old friendship you couldn't carelessly risk over some unfounded feelings you'd only recently began to discover. There were times you believed he'd hint at some feelings, but Mingyu was a bit of a wildcard. Having known him for so long, you'd seen him through all his relationships, just as he had seen you through yours. You knew how he behaved around someone he was romantically interested in, and you were sad to admit that no matter how affectionate he was towards you, you were not a prime example of it.

So you decided you'd keep your feelings at bay for now. If they were even those type of feelings in the first place. You'd never been in this situation before, neither had you ever liked Mingyu in this way since meeting him over ten years ago, so, once again, you found yourself feeling uncertain of your relationship with your best friend.

Today was yet again another party. This time your brother would finally be in attendance, having finally found some time off of his seemingly grueling schedule. It was Halloween, after all. You remembered all the years you'd spent Halloween with Wonwoo and Mingyu in the past, occasionally even matching costumes with one another. This year you'd decided to go your own ways and surprise each other with your costumes. The plan was for Mingyu to pick you up from your dorm and walk you to the frat (he insisted, citing that it was 'too late for a pretty girl to be walking around alone!'), which is where you'd meet up with Wonwoo. You'd gone in a different direction for your costume this year, opting for a new look. In past years you liked to either match with Wonwoo or dress up as your latest hyperfixation, but since you were now an adult in college (and you didn't need your parents' veto on your costume anymore ..), you went for something a little more provocative. It wasn't too out there, but it was more skin than you were used to showing. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your wig a bit, fixing the red headband that held the look together. You thought maybe your dress might've been too short; slightly inaccurate to the original look, but you had to admit, you looked hot as shit! It'd be worth it if this was your slutty debut.

A knock suddenly interrupted your thoughts. And then another. And another. This was how you could usually tell it was Mingyu. The large man had a habit of being really loud without meaning to. You laughed to yourself at the cute habit and headed towards the door, excited to show him your costume and to take a look at his.

You opened the door, opening your mouth to greet him, only to be interrupted immediately by the sight in front of you. A very shirtless Mingyu. Well, a Mingyu in denim jeans and a matching denim vest. You weren't sure what he was supposed to be, but you didn't want to keep looking long enough to figure it out. For your own sanity.

He had been leaning against the door when you'd opened it, looking up as he spoke his first words to you, "Hey, baby. You ready to- Son of a bitch."

"What? You don't like it?", you pouted. Was it too much? He was literally shirtless, looking like a wet dr- okay, best to not finish that thought.

"What? No! You look gorgeous. Are you, uh, is it Betty Boop?"

"Mingyu! Do you not remember?! I showed you this movie! I'm Mima!! From Perfect Blue!", leave it to Mingyu to lose memory of a movie you'd just shown him a few weeks back.

"I'm sorry, baby, I remember. Just distracted by how pretty you look," he said as he smiled down at you, adorable canines in full view. Damn him. He was always showering you in compliments, not knowing their effect on you as of late.

"Shut up .. What are you even supposed to be? Wait, oh my god. Are you Ken?", jesus, what a cliche. You hadn't even connected the dots until now.

"Listen! I thought you'd be Barbie! Every girl wants to be Barbie. I was trying to be a step ahead of you so we could match! How was I supposed to know you were gonna dress as a character from an indie movie?"

"Aw. You wanted to match? You could've said something, Gyu."

The thought of Mingyu ordering a matching set of denim pants and denim vest at the thought of being the Ken to your Barbie made you coo, completely forcing yourself to ignore the shirtless aspect of his costume.

He tsked, still pouting, "Didn't want you to think I was lame ..." he mumbled, "We've also never matched without Wonwoo."

"I wouldn'tve thought that, Gyu. Want me to throw on a pink dress? We could make it work, I-"

"No!", he halted your speech, "Stay like this. You look insanely hot. Gonna have to keep guys off of you all night, but it'll be worth it. C'mon, baby, let's just go now," he said as he offered his arm for you to link yours with.

Keep guys off of you? Hot? He needed to stop saying these things. You were already feeling lightheaded at the thought of spending the entire night being guarded by an overprotective Mingyu, deluding yourself into thinking that it'd be because he wanted you all to himself.

You arrived to the party pretty quick, by now having already corrected three people on your costume on your walk there. Mingyu would laugh next to you every single time, mocking your costume choice and claiming that Barbie would've been a better option, because then you 'could've been such a hot power couple.'

You stuck around each other for most of your stay, only ever straying away from one another whenever Mingyu insisted on going to the kitchen to freshen up your drink, or when various Barbies would stop him to get a picture with him, using their costume as an excuse to get close to Mingyu. It peeved you off a bit, deflating your mood slightly more each time someone interrupted your conversation to drag Mingyu away. But Mingyu was a gentleman and a helpless people pleaser, so he would politely say yes and pose for a bit before moving on, only to eventually be interrupted again. You weren't sure if Mingyu took notice of your frustration, but if he did, he didn't show it. That kind of made you feel worse.

You'd caught up with your brother during Mingyu's short absences, who had just side-eyed you at your costume choice, calling you predictable. He'd dressed as Marty McFly, putting minimal effort into his costume in usual Wonwoo fashion.

"So."

"So?"

"I thought you were supposed to be Mingyu's date?", he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I am his date. Well, 'date,'" you air quoted, "I'm always his date to your frat's parties, you know that."

He shrugged, "I know, but he seemed excited to do couple's costume with you this year. I thought it was kinda silly, but he even got his costume tailored n everything," he said nonchalantly as he sipped his beer a bit.

"Oh. He didn't really tell me .. It's not like I'm his actual date anyways," and it wasn't like he really needed you when he had so many girls literally lining up for his attention.

"You could be."

"What do you mean?", you were confused by Wonwoo's sudden commentary on this, not even aware that he'd even thought about you and Gyu in that way.

"Just .. I mean, wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Wonwoo, wh-"

"Sorry I took so long! Some other girl wanted a picture and she just wouldn't let me get away. Here, got your favorite," it was Mingyu with his impeccable timing, handing you a drink as he flashed you his classic boyish smile.

"Thank you," you were slightly deflated, wanting to continue your conversation with Wonwoo, and also annoyed at the thought of sharing Mingyu's time with yet another girl. When had you become so dependent on Mingyu's attention? And why was your mood souring so easily at the mere mention of other girls coming from his mouth?

Wonwoo promptly excused himself at the interruption, catching sight of another one of his frat brothers and joining him in whatever he was doing. Gyu bid Wonwoo a quick bye, instantly turning his attention right back to you.

"Having fun?"

"Sure, Gyu. You?"

"Just sure? What's wrong? Want me to get Wonwoo back?"

"No, Mingyu, it's fine. I was thinking about heading home, actually. It's getting kinda late."

"Oh? Okay, let me just let Wonwoo know and I'll go walk you back," he was halfway through turning to go find your brother.

"No, that's fine. You should stay!", you tried to sound as convincing as possible, knowing that sooner or later his attention would be dragged away from you again anyways.

"Stay? What happened to not ditching each other?", he chuckled, "Did you forget the pinky promise?"

You remembered, which is why you wondered why he'd been ditching you all night.

"C'mon, Gyu. Don't you wanna stay with one of the many pretty girls that have been wanting to talk to you all night? I don't wanna cockblock you ..." you felt a little sheepish at even the slight reference to sex, never having really touched the subject with Mingyu in all your years of friendship.

You knew you were being kind of unreasonable. Mingyu hadn't shown any direct interest in any of the girls, and he had clearly wanted to spend the night by your side, but your childish feelings were hurt by all the attention he had been giving other people, feeling like a spoiled little girl who demanded her mom's care at all times.

"You're the only pretty girl I wanna spend my time with," he gave you a sad smile.

He kept doing this. Throwing you a bone but doing nothing else. He'd say things that would have you planning your wedding if it'd been any other guy, constantly feeding you with pet names and endless compliments. Except that's where it always stopped. The only other indication you'd gotten so far about his words having a deeper meaning were the short conversations you had with Jeonghan and Wonwoo. Conversations which were both promptly interrupted by Mingyu, never to be brought up again.

"Gyu, I-"

"Excuse me. Could I get a picture with you? Haven't found any other Ken's around so far," the interruption was unsurprisingly provided by yet another girl in Barbie's classic pink plaid dress, shyly looking at Mingyu as she awaited his response.

You knew Mingyu was popular with girls, but today had kind of felt like a punch in the face.

He looked at her and then back at you. And then back at her and back at you again, clearly fighting the urge to be a gentleman and just do as the girl asked.

You gave them both a tight smile, "I'll see you tomorrow, Gyu," and with that, you began to walk away, feeling bad at the dramatics but knowing that you'd just get your feelings hurt if you saw Mingyu unknowingly flirt with yet another girl.

You didn't get very far, though.

"Hey, wait up!", it was Mingyu. Obviously.

"Gyu, it's fine, you shou-"

"I told you I wouldn't ditch you. Maybe you forgot about it, but I didn't. And this goes both ways. Okay. baby? Now let's go," he grabbed your hand and led you away, leaving behind a disgruntled Barbie who had just wanted a chance to talk to the pretty Ken.

You walked in silence most of the way home, not being really in the mood to say anything. Nor knowing what to say, kind of embarrassed by your futile attempts to ditch Mingyu, proving yourself to be kind of a hypocrite.

Before you realized, you were standing in front of your dorm. You turned around to give Mingyu a quick goodbye, not expecting much from him considering his silence during the walk home.

And then he hugged you. He held you close as he leaned down to your height and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, humming at the closeness between you. You held your arms out around him, not really hugging back at first due to the shock of the sudden action, but then proceeding to rib your arms up and down his back soothingly.

"Gyu ..."

"I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry? I'm sorry," he unglued his head from your neck, now staring down at you with sad features on his face, arms still around your waist.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry I ditched you tonight. I didn't mean to. I guess it's hard for me to ignore all the attention sometimes. I made a promise but I kept breaking it tonight. Didn't mean to make you feel like I wasn't paying attention."

"No, Gyu. I'm just being sensitive, it's fine, really! You can be with other people, you shouldn't feel badly about it just because I'm acting like a child," you felt embarrassed admitting it out loud, but it was true, "I guess I got used to having Wonwoo's undivided attention growing up that I became a bit of a brat about it, hah ..."

"Baby, please stop talking about yourself like that before I get mad," he said, half joking, half serious. "I still made you upset, regardless of anything. I saw your face while you watched me be dragged away time after time, and I didn't like what I saw. I'm sorry. I won't ditch you again, I promise. I double promise. I'll be mean about it if I have to, okay?"

You chuckled at that. You couldn't possibly imagine a world where Mingyu would ever be mean. He was the nicest boy you'd ever known.

His reestablishment of the promise made you a bit sad. Knowing you were still stuck at a catch 22; break your friendship if you confessed, or live with Mingyu as close as possible without ever being able to actually have him. But you'd take whatever you could get, wanting Mingyu in your life no matter what.

He'd once again kept his promise. Somehow, by some act of god, becoming even more attentive to you. It made you happy and sad. You were practically in a relationship with Mingyu at this point, except he was the only one who didn't know about it. His frat brothers would joke about it, mocking you by calling you 'baby' whenever Mingyu wasn't around to make fun of the nickname that by now seemed to be your legal name. Even Wonwoo would give you looks whenever he saw the way in which Mingyu would physically stick to you through the night every time you hung out around him.

Mingyu had also made it a point to not entertain any girl - at least while you were around. Any time a girl would come up to him, he'd hold a short interaction and call it a day, instantly turning back around to you. It was funny, really, the way in which they'd give you a dirty look behind his back before promptly accepting their fate and walking away.

At this point your life had become a blur of school, parties, and Mingyu. Every other week you'd be in attendance to a party - or sometimes simply a small gathering between close friends - at Wonwoo and Mingyu's frat. During other days of the week you'd still find yourself there due to assignments you needed help with, or simply to see your brother. More often than not, however, you'd find yourself there to see Mingyu. You were enjoying college life thus far, having forgotten all your worries from your initial arrival a few months back. Mingyu's constant presence (plus yours and Wonwoo's reconciliation) had taken away any of the fears you'd had. Once more, you had befriended Wonwoo's friends, always feeling welcome at the frat and even hanging out with a few members while on your way to and from class.

Now, you were once again at the frat, waiting for Mingyu to get home from class. Jeonghan and Seungcheol put it upon themselves to entertain you until his arrival, teasing you over being Mingyu's unofficial girlfriend as they usually did. You never took it seriously. I mean, yeah you were still in the same place with Mingyu (re: hopelessly in love), and your feelings had only gotten worse with the passing of time, but you also knew what boys were like, having been subjected to their company since you were a little kid.

"Hey babyyy. Looking for Mingyu?"

"Jeonghan, stop fucking calling me that."

He gasps, you roll your eyes, "Is that not your name??"

"Anyways, is he not back yet? Need him back so we can prep the drinks for tonight," now was Cheol's turn to speak.

"He should be back from class already. He told me to just get ready here."

"Here? You're not even allowed here!", you knew Jeonghan was kidding, but it was kinda true. It was an unspoken rule in the frat that the boys couldn't have girls overnight. It was originally set up to prevent partygoers who didn't live there from taking their rooms for hookups. Even as Wonwoo's sister, you weren't an exception.

"I'm not staying. Just for the party. Anyways, I'm just gonna go look for him, I know when his class is. Cheol, please keep him away from me next time I'm here. Bye!"

They both chuckled, bidding their goodbyes and see you laters to you as you headed to the door, still feeling a bit awkward at being the only girl hanging around at the frat before the usual weekly party began; even if you were close friends with the guys. Over time you'd noticed how some of the girls you'd frequently see at the parties would look at you, knowing they probably had less than favorable opinions about you. It's not like you were keeping the pretty frat boys away from them, you were just used to this lifestyle, you always stuck by your brother and his various friend groups through the years, and this was not the exception.

Many even seemed to assume you were dating Mingyu, which you did not blame them for, considering how much time you spent together. A grand majority of them would act bitchy towards you, flirting with him right in front of you even under the belief that he was taken. Mingyu would usually subtly shut them down and lead them away somehow. You were afraid for the moment in which he snapped out of his seemingly self-imposed celibacy and drop you for some girl. You knew it would come eventually, but you still had some unfounded hope that maybe that girl would be you.

After having waited for Mingyu at the frat to no avail, you had decided to go search for him at his classroom, thinking he might've stayed a little extra time for some reason. Except you didn't find him there either. You eventually decided to text him, only to get no response. This was quite out of character of him, with him being the one to usually seek you out through text. Calls were also left unanswered, making you think that maybe an emergency came up or that he might've forgotten he had asked you to meet. This was also very uncharacteristic of him. You decided to, for once, not let your thoughts run amok and simply let it go. You had already pushed your insecurities onto Mingyu enough times. Instead, you headed home, head down at the thought of Mingyu forgetting about your meeting, but still planning to get ready to go see him at the party.

Your apparel was nothing too out of the ordinary. You had started dressing a little more maturely after that first attempt at the Halloween party, having enjoyed the reaction your costume had gotten out of Mingyu. Ever since then, you had begun to introduce shorter skirts and lower cut tops into your attire, although still keeping your general style and aesthetic pretty much the same. You felt kind of silly dressing up more just because of Mingyu's reaction that one time, but you could've sworn that he'd become even more protective since you started dressing like that, which you was something you shamelessly enjoyed.

With that, you left your dorm, wanting to catch up with Mingyu after having not seen him all day, something that was extremely out of the ordinary for the two of you. He had been very adamant about you not ditching each other, after all.

You arrived promptly to the party, which had already started and was buzzing as per usual. You walked by a few friends from class, making sure to stop by and say hi to them, along with to a few members of the frat. The one person you hadn't seen thus far had been Mingyu. You even found your brother hanging out with his frat brothers Vernon and Seungkwan, hanging back while they prepared a table for some beer pong. They'd invited you to join in, but you felt uneasy at Mingyu's absence, so you declined and kept walking, hoping to find him. You eventually bumped into Seungcheol. He had mentioned that he needed Mingyu to help him restock drinks before the party, so you asked him if he knew about his whereabouts.

"Oh, yeah. He came back a little after you left. He helped me out but said he had to leave right away. Had to meet with someone or something."

Oh. So had it been just you then?

"Do you know who?"

"Hmm, no, he didn't say. He got a call before he left. It sounded like a girl ..." he shot you an awkward smile at the mention of a girl.

Jesus, did everyone know you had a crush on Mingyu?

"Okay, thanks Cheol. I'll see you later," and with a quick side-hug you left, attempting once more to find your friend.

Was he ignoring your calls? Clearly he had his phone if he picked up someone else's call. Why hadn't he let you know he couldn't meet up anymore? Why'd he even let you come to a party you'd agreed to attend together if he was gonna ditch you? Why was he meeting up with another girl if he was supposed to be your date tonight? This was very unlike him, but it still hurt nonetheless.

You decided to walk the place, still looking for him but also pondering about maybe going home. You knew your feelings shouldn't be hurt over this, but to be fair, Mingyu had unintentionally conditioned you to expect his presence. And knowing that he was blatantly ignoring any form of contact you'd tried to make with him made you feel like a idiot. So you left. The frat was still on campus, so walking yourself to your dorm wouldn't take too long, even if you were used to rides from Mingyu's bike or the occasional piggy back ride he'd give you when you grew too tired of the walk.

You were on one of the top floors when you made your decision to leave, having walked the entire place in search of Mingyu. It made you feel like an idiot now, dressing up for him and chasing after him all day all while he was just carelessly ignoring you. You walked the way back, passing by each of the frat member's designated rooms. Even by Mingyu's too.

Mingyu's timing had always proved to be really inopportune. He'd constantly walk in when you were in the middle of conversation, or knock on your door before you were finished getting ready. Today, however, he had taken the cake.

Just as you were about to walk by his and Wonwoo's room came out a distracted Mingyu, clearly the middle of conversation with whoever was also on their way to exit the room. One moment later you saw who it was. She looked familiar, you thought. Might've been one of the many girls who'd competed for Mingyu's attention at these parties. It didn't really matter to you at that moment. She was walking out of Mingyu's room with him. Girls weren't supposed to be allowed in their rooms after a certain time. Was she the exception to the rule? You watched as she and Mingyu held friendly conversation, with her giving him a kiss on the cheek and a smile as she made her exit. Gyu didn't seem fazed by this. Almost as if it were a daily occurrence. Was it a daily occurrence? Had you just been an idiot chasing after him, hoping he'd maybe look at you differently one of these days?

You felt your emotions take over you. The mere sight of a girl coming out of Mingyu's room late into the night, at an area where partygoers weren't allowed, made your vision blurry with tears. All unfounded hopes you'd had about a future between you and Mingyu were immediately crushed. He didn't like you back. You knew it already, but the confirmation was just a punch in the face. He had been ignoring your calls all day in favour of a girl. One of the many girls he reassured you meant nothing to him, because he'd wanted to give all his attention to you, his best friend.

You could've sworn you stood there watching the short interaction for hours. Time had frozen for you. But not for anyone else. And surely not for Mingyu, who turned around and immediately spotted you after having bid his goodbye to the girl. Your emotions must've been clear on your face, since Mingyu's previous wolfish smile suddenly dropped into a look of worry. It seemed like time had now frozen for him, as his movements halted and his reaction left him.

There was a distance between you, and to find the exit you'd have to pass by Mingyu in order to leave. You took advantage of his shock at your unexpected presence and walked past him, walking as fast as you could in order to not make a scene. Except you didn't get far.

"W-wait!", he managed to grab your arm before you left, softly tugging you in order to stop your movements, but it was futile. Your movements may have stopped but you refused to meet his eye, instead opting for looking down at your feet as you sniffled, feeling embarrassed at how easily you'd started crying.

"Baby, look at me," but you still refused, "Whatever it is that you're thinking didn't happen."

But you didn't respond, frog in your throat and unable to speak, knowing you'd start crying if you did.

"I-it's not what you think, please, I-"

"If you wanted time to .. if you wanted to be alone with .. her, you could've told me," you finally replied, sniffling and gasping all throughout.

"I didn't! I wanted to be with you!"

"I called you and called you and got no response. You didn't show up either. You- God, I don't ... I don't even know why I'm crying,' you took a shaky breath, 'We're not ... It's not like you and I-"

"Don't say that. I'd never even look at another girl like that ... It's just you and me, you know that."

"Mingyu ..." you continued to look down, not wanting to look at him and trigger even more crying.

"Let me explain, okay? But look at me, yeah? Can't stand you not looking at me, baby," he grabbed your chin, urging you to look up, directing your face towards his in order to look down directly into your eyes, "That's it, pretty. Now don't cry. Hate it when you cry."

"I don't know her very well," he begun, "We partnered up for class today and accidentally switched phones. I didn't realize until I was on my way to see you, which is when she called her own phone and asked me to meet. We kept missing each other, so I told her to meet me here so I could give her her phone back. I'd left it charging in my room before helping Cheol. You weren't here when I came back, so I thought I'd just see you later and explain. I didn't mean for you to see that .. There was- there was nothing. Nothing happened, okay, baby? Nothing."

"But the kiss ...?"

"Girls just do that sometimes, baby, I'm sorry. I'll wipe my cheek clean if you want me to, yeah?", he smiled down at you, wiping at your tears.

You felt even like an even bigger idiot now. An innocent interaction and you were pulling all the dramatics, sobbing into the arms of the boy you so desperately wanted. The thought made you even more emotional. How could you ever exist around Mingyu like this?

You unstuck yourself from his hold, feeling sick at yourself, "Gyu, I ..." you cut yourself off with a pathetic gasp, sniffling to prevent snot from falling from your nose.

He quickly held onto you again, "Hmm. Yeah, pretty? Tell me. Still gonna cry over me? You have nothing to cry about, baby, I told you. I'm right here. Never leaving, like I promised. Remember?"

The way he smiled down at you was one you'd never seen from him before. You were beyond embarrassed, but he continued to soothe you, giving you words of affirmation coated with a deeper meaning.

"Mingyu ..?"

You weren't sure what you wanted to say, still sniffling, although a bit more calm due to the comfort the boy gave you.

"What is it, baby? Want me to say it first? I will. I'll tell you. I'll show you. Just .. just wanna savour the moment for a little longer. Is that bad? Love how you worry about me. Just wanna .. wanna enjoy it," he continued to stare into your eyes, hand on your chin, lifting your face closer to his.

There was something unspoken about the way he was speaking to you; the words he was saying. Almost like a confession but not quite. The gap between friends and a little more; not quite lovers.

Both your eyes became lazy, lowering to each other's lips, breaths becoming heavier as Mingyu began to close the distance. It all felt so heavy, and so slow, like a pin could drop and you'd be alarmed by the noise. All your senses were preparing you for a tidal wave. Until it finally came.

"Love you. So much. So fucking much, pretty. You have no idea. Would never hurt you, ever", and with that, he pressed his lips to yours, humming quietly against your mouth. He pulled away soon after. Too soon for your comfort.

"l-love you, Gyu, I ..."

It felt like a huge weight off your shoulders, finally being able to say the three words, albeit mumbled against his lips.

"Loved you always," he interrupted, "Been in love with you ever since I can remember. My pretty girl. You were always meant to be mine. Always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you. Was just waiting for you ..." he said all this as he breathed into your mouth, breath getting heavier by the minute, your mind becoming foggy as you let yourself lean against him.

"Will you let me show you? Show you how bad I love you?"

You nodded desperately, whispering 'Yes' into his lips as he closed the gap again, kissing you with far more strength than the first time.

This was the kiss to beat all kisses. The way he planted his palms on your back, allowing you to lean pliant against his hold. The way he tilted his head slightly to the side to kiss you deeper. The way he sighed against your lips, as if he was finally able to breathe. The way his tongue eased your mouth open, dancing with your own in perfect coordination. The way he hummed against you, close to moaning in pleasure but holding back as a friend would.

The kiss was agony, or at least that's what any spectator would think, if they were to see the way both you and Mingyu furrow your eyebrows as if this was your very last breath and you needed to savior it with everything in you. He held you against him with gentle hands, while yours grabbed onto him as if he was your lifeline, yet you were both equally desperate while kissing one another. The buildup of your feelings took over, increasing the intensity of the kiss immediately. At some point you were both too out of breath, but unable to pull away, simply breathing against each other as you attempted to keep your lips glued.

He finally pulled away, breath heavy as he tried to bring himself back to earth.

"Baby .. Let me .. Let me take you to my room? Is it too soon? Just- Been waiting so long. Love you so much. Wanna show you. Can I?", he gently ran his hands up and down your back as he rambled, eyes crazy as they alternated between your lips and your eyes, unable to focus.

You hesitated. You weren't sure why. You'd wanted him so badly for so long, but now it felt way too real. Your desire for him had you so dizzy you could not think, rendering you a shell of yourself as your heavy gaze stared back at him, no thoughts in mind. Your mind a constant loop of Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu.

"I-It's okay, baby. I don't, don't wanna pressure you ..." he seemed flustered by your lack of answer.

Shit.

No. It'd been enough times of you making him do all the work. So instead of responding, you leaned up and pulled his head back down to your level, kissing him with all your might. You used all the strength you could muster and pushed him against the wall. He let out a surprised noise, but let his body become pliant to your touches, allowing you to press him to the wall and simply following along, seemingly content with whatever you gave him.

You kissed for a bit more, airing out all your emotions against each other's lips. The kiss had quickly become nasty and wet, almost in an animalistic way. Mingyu had also begun to become more daring with his touches, lowering his arms to the small of your waist, pressing your body up against his, letting you feel all of him.

You grew frustrated soon after, or maybe he did, you weren't too sure. But it was only a few moments later that you ended up crashing through his bedroom door, Mingyu quickly locking it behind you without daring to unlock your lips. This time he pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his large body. He pressed himself up against you as close as physically possible, beginning to drag his pelvis against yours. The feeling of his hardness grinding against you made all the air leave your head, rendering you breathless.

"G-gyu ..." you gasped against his mouth, hands going crazy as they scratched against his clothed chest and shoulders.

"I know, baby. So pretty. Just let me take care of you, yeah?", he lifted your arms from his chest, pinning them above you as he ground his hips with even more fervor, making you whine against his lips at the pressure against your crotch.

He ground against you like this for a while, enjoying the mewls of pleasure you let out against his lips. He took advantage of your open mouth against his lips to slip his tongue inside once more, licking into your mouth as he ground against you. Eventually he took control of the kiss, letting go one of your hands and angling your head so he could lick deeper into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back, both at the way he so expertly played with your tongue and at the slow pace he had while grinding what you could only assume to be a massive length hidden under his pants.

"Gyu ..." his name seemed to be the only word you were able to utter in your mindless state, "More. Please, want more ..."

"Anything you want, pretty," he reluctantly unglued himself from you, gently holding your hand to guide you to his bed before sitting you down at the edge of it.

"Wait."

"Hmm? What's wrong, baby?"

"I, uh, I thought you weren't allowed girls in here at this time ..." even in your dazy state, you remembered the rules of the frat, fearing that an annoyed Seungcheol or Seungkwan might come interrupt you and force you out.

"Shh, don't mind that. Won't let anyone take you away from me, yeah baby? Will even kick Wonwoo out for the night. It's just you and me, okay?", he leaned down to peck your lips, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You'll let me take care of you now, right baby? Gonna let me show you how much I love you?", he leaned you back on the bed as he said this, climbing over you in order to pin you down.

Your breath began to get heavy again, nodding numbly at his questions as you let your body become weightless; allowing him to do with it as he pleased.

You'd assumed he'd be gentle, - in a similar fashion to his words - but the moment your lips connected once again it was like someone else took over. Some animalistic sense within possessed him as he, for lack of a better word, devoured you. His hips were merciless as he began to rut them against yours once more. His lips trapped yours, taking full control of the kiss. His hands finally found the courage to explore your body, running his hands up and down your legs, taking advantage of the way your short skirt had ridden up. He moaned against your lips at the feeling of your pretty form under his, cursing under his breath when you decided to guide his hands to your breasts, desperate to feel his touch in more sensitive areas of your body.

He untangled his tongue from yours momentarily, looking into your eyes. He furrowed his brows while looking down at you, then lowering his eyes look at your clothed tits, which were currently being held hostage by his large palms.

"Baby ... Can I?"

You bit your lip and nodded up at him.

That was all confirmation he needed before literally ripping your dress off your body. The dress itself might've actually torn in the process, you weren't sure. That didn't matter as soon as Mingyu finally took a look at your naked form, having expertly removed your bra as soon as he'd removed your dress. He let out a groan deep from his chest, physically salivating at your bare chest, hips only covered by a very thin pair of panties, now finally being able to see the entirety of your bare body under his hands.

"Baby ... So fucking beautiful, Jesus Christ. Been hiding this pretty body from me, haven't you?"

"Been dreaming about you for so long, fuck. So beautiful .."

"Look at you, so soft and pretty. And all for me, right baby? Gonna let me play with this pretty body, huh?"

"Wanna remember this. Fuck, can't stop looking at you. Wanna feel all of you. Wanna memorize your body."

In usual Mingyu fashion, his endless praise to you manifested itself even in this scenario, affecting you more than ever. His praise was accompanied by his fondling of your body, running his hands over every curve in your body, occasionally stopping to rub at your nipples as you arched your back at the delicious stimulation.

You could tell he loved the effect he had on you, as he dragged on and on, pulling cries and mewls out of you as he felt you up. Eventually he seemed to grow too desperate for more, getting on his knees at the foot of the bed and dragging your body towards him by your thighs, treating you like a weightless rag doll.

He kissed up and down your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes, meeting your heavy gaze as you waited for him to near the place where you needed him most. He eventually dragged down your panties, slow in his movements as he held them up to his face, breathing in your scent. You gasped at this, having never seen anyone do such a depraved act.

"Gyu ..."

"God, fuck. Even smell so good. Gonna taste so delicious, aren't you baby?"

"Please, Gyu, just .. Ah! Fuck!"

He dove right in, immediately licking and sucking at you, not wanting to waste a single drop. It was animalistic, the way he ate at you. He groaned and moaned against your cunt, forcing you as close as possible to him by holding onto your hips, encouraging you to grind against his face, practically riding his face.

"Just like that, baby. Drag that pretty pussy on my tongue. Gunna eat you up, pretty. Such a tasty pussy, shit."

It didn't take long for him to make you cum. All the months waiting for him, the merciless way in which he had you against the wall dragging his length against you, the way he undressed and caressed you (re: felt you up), the way he praised you all throughout. It all piled up inside you and made you reach the most mind-numbing orgasm you'd ever felt. You felt tears streaming down your face as you screamed his name, instantly falling on your back against the bed all while Mingyu continued to lick at you even in your sensitive state. But you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, growing drunk at the pleasurable pain you felt as be lightly caressed your clit with his tongue.

"Not done, baby. Wan' you again. Be good, yeah? Lemme have you again," his adorable lisp had become even more prominent, leaving him almost slurring through his speech likely due to the pussydrunkness he was feeling.

He promptly flipped you around, placing you on your hands and knees above the bed. He knelt behind you, once more feeling up and down your body, kneading at your ass as you arched your back. You'd expected him to finally fuck you, only to feel his tongue right back on your cunt.

You arched your back even more, mewling out his name once again as he licked at your clit, teasing it by lightly nibbling at it. Everything he did had you crying, delirious on the pleasure he was giving you. The moans of his own pleasure didn't help, nor did the sound of the bed squeaking as he ground his dick against it for relief.

This time you didn't meet your end, instead being flipped around once more and facing the man of your dreams. His face was dripping with your juices, hair a mess from all the pulling you'd done. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight. You reached up to him, feeling up and down his chest before pulling him down to you, smashing your lips to him as you desperately licked into his mouth. You tasted yourself on him, making him moan at the desperate speed of your tongue.

"Taste so good, don't you baby? Fuck, gonna eat you every day now. You're all for me," he groaned against your lips, lifting himself up a bit to finally remove his clothes.

You practically salivated at the sight. You'd seen him naked before, on a few accidental occasions. But seeing him now, sweaty from all the exertion and so close to you, gigantic chest and arms on full display .. It made you breathless. You felt him up, running your hands up and down his chest, wanting to commit it all to memory. He chuckled at your reaction, mumbling a small 'cute' before getting back to business.

Nothing could've prepared you for the moment he finally entered you. The stretch was like no other pleasure you'd ever felt before. It seemed to be the same case for him, as his voice grew in pitch the moment you first tightened up around him.

"Fuck! Baby, don't do that ... Wanna last, fuck."

"Gyu, you're so fucking big. Shit ..."

"Yeah, baby? Gonna split you open. Gonna mold your pussy so you can take me every day. Want that, don't you baby? Wanna keep me warm every morning?"

His words had you once again tightening, causing him the force behind his thrusts to increase, leading to a vicious cycle of pleasuring one another.

The way he moved his hips against you was purely animalistic. The drag of his hips made you fully delirious, his speed superhuman and the strength just enough to have you feeling pleasurable type of pain. He knew what he was doing, angling himself at that spot that had you crying into his neck.

"Right there! Fuck, Gyu, please! There .. There!"

He made it a point to angle himself even deeper, making you feel the delicious drag of his length in the spot where you needed him most. Sensing your orgasm nearing caused Mingyu to bring his thumb down to your swollen clit, rubbing it softly, at a such a slow speed that had you writhing against him, breathlessly whining for more.

He pulled at all stops to drag the most intense orgasm out of you. He repeatedly canted his hips against yours, hitting your g spot continuously. He played with your clit and even leaned down to lick at your tits, stimulating you from every sensitive part of your body in order to drag yet another orgasm out of you.

Your orgasm came soon after, triggering his in return. You screamed out his name, dragging your nails down his back while he fucked you through your high, whispering filthy expletives about how good you felt against your ear. He pulled out before spilling his seed inside you, choosing instead to cum all over your stomach, groaning at the filthy image of you coated in his cum.

You fell limp after that, losing all air in your head and being rendered breathless. You're not sure how long you laid there for, no thought in mind, seeing as the next time you opened your eyes you had already been cleaned up and placed under the sheets. From your spot on the bed you could see a very naked Mingyu walk towards you before slipping under the covers with you, instantly seeking your touch as he held you in his arms.

He spoke up first, "Sorry if that was too much .. Wanted to make love to you, but I guess I got over excited," he chuckled.

"It was perfect, Gyu. You were so sweet, like you always are," you kissed his chest as you said this, all while he gently ran his hands up and down your back, "Love you, Gyu. Sorry I didn't say it properly earlier."

"Love you more."

"You don't have to be competitive about it! But that's not true, by the way," you'd been going insane at your feelings for him for these past new months, there was no way he could win this one.

"Are you sure about that?", he snickered, as if he had some intel you didn't.

"What are you even talking about, Gyu?"

"I've loved you for longer, that's all I'm saying," he started leaving soft pecks on your chest, giggling at his own words.

"Nuh huh!"

"Yuh huh! I've liked you since senior year! You didn't even look my way at the time."

'Senior year? We barely saw each other that year. You and Wonwoo kept leaving me for senior stuff.'

"You know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Something like that. Anyways, I've held a candle for you for years. You made me wait all these years. I love you more."

"Wait. You liked me all this time?!", you sat up despite his whine in complaint, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Baby, I already told you. You didn't like me back. We'd never been around each other without Wonwoo by then. Didn't wanna fuck up our friendship, or make Wonwoo uncomfortable. Now get back here," he dragged you back down to his chest.

"But ..."

"Shhh, it doesn't matter anymore. I waited and now you're mine."

You didn't speak much after that, allowing yourselves to bask in each other's company, holding each other to sleep like you'd always wanted to do. You wanted to ponder on what Mingyu had said; that he'd liked you this whole time. You wanted to think back to moments that could've revealed Mingyu's feelings to you, but Mingyu was right. It didn't matter anymore, because you were now finally his.

You woke up the next morning to loud knocks, startling you from your comfortable slumber. By now, you and Mingyu were a tangled mess of limbs, with no space separating your bodies. You felt warmth and comfort you had never felt before, being pressed up, skin-to-skin.

The knocks hadn't awoken Mingyu, who you'd always known to be a heavy sleeper. You were only half awake yourself, so in your senseless sleepy state, you decided to untangle yourself from Mingyu and go check the door. You threw on Mingyu's button up from last night along with some boxers and headed to the door, only opening it a tiny bit to peek at who was knocking.

In retrospect, you should've known who you'd find on the other side of it, seeing as he did live here. But fortunately, even in your sleepy state you were dressed enough to not traumatize either of you.

"Wow. You're so predictable," it was your brother, wearing the same clothes you'd seen him in last night, taking notice of your current state.

"If you knew I was here, why come?"

"Wanted to confirm. Also, you kept me out all night. Didn't wanna risk unlocking the door and finding something that'd scar me for life."

"Wait. How'd you even know I'd be in here with Mingyu?", you had never mentioned your feelings to your brother. He had alluded to something between you and Mingyu once, but since it was never brought up again, so you assumed it must've just been a fluke.

"I knew the dam would break eventually. Mingyu's not much of a patient guy," he chuckled.

"Gyu? You knew he liked me?!"

"Of course I did. I knew about the both of you. Took you guys too long, to be honest. Watching you both go crazy over it was kinda funny, though," he chuckled to himself again, "Anyways, can you move? I have class in an hour."

"Dick', you mumbled 'And, uh, you can't come in. Gyu's kinda ..."

"Don't finish that sentence. Don't need to know more details. Jesus, was all night not enough?", he paused, shaking his head, "Never mind, don't answer that either. I'm just gonna borrow Cheol's shit. Just leave before you get caught here after hours," and with that he left, allowing you to close the gap on the door as you turned back to face a still-asleep Mingyu.

You laid back down with him, attempting to sneak your way back into his arms, only to finally awake him in the process.

"Mmm, baby?", he mumbled, seeking even more closeness go you, "Was someone at the door?"

"Just Wonwoo. Go back to sleep, Gyu."

"Nonu? What'd he say?"

"Called me a dumbass and told me to get out," you pouted at him.

He chuckled at this, but immediately whining right after, "Nooo, gotta keep you here, remember? Can't let you go anymore. He'll understand, don't worry. You'll just be our roommie."

"Am I moving in now, then?", you giggled against him.

"Yeah, baby. Gonna be us three again, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, happy to have finally bagged your best friend, and knowing your brother would be nothing but supportive about it. After all, you had a tendency of sticking by him. Nothing had changed after all.

a/n: i honestly had no idea how to finish this T-T i hope u enjoyed reading though <3 i proofread most of it but there might still be some mistakes hehe sorry </3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu fluff

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darktrashsoulbear · 1 month ago

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The Abyss Of Affection

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: Aemond discovers the book his sweet wife has been obsessed with and after reading one of the scenes, a plan begins to formulate (fluff)

This was inspired by a conversation I had with the wonderful Hannah @gwaynesprincess

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Taglist

Warnings: Allusions to smut

Word Count: 2308

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Not entirely show canon as Jaehaerys is alive, Maelor exists and people are happy

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

His calculated footsteps echoed in the hallways of the keep’s royal chambers, following the elder of the King’s brothers - Prince Aemond Targaryen - back to his chambers after an incredibly taxing day filled with fulfilling duties that were not his own and patrolling the city atop his beloved Vhagar, the Queen of all Dragons. Many would argue a dragon fit for a true king, Aemond would agree. Finally rounding the corner, he greeted the familiar face of Ser Steffon giving a cordial nod as he made his way through the doors of his chambers, removing his cloak as he went.

The sight that greeted the prince was not surprising yet still brought a small, fond smile to his face. Laying on her side of the feather bed was his sweet wife curled up under the various blankets spread across the bed to combat the chill in the air as the citadel switched black ravens to white and summer turned to winter. Aemond made quick work of stripping out of his leathers and into a loose night shirt and breeches ready to join his wife in slumber.

Just as he was about to blow out the candles beside where they lay, he noticed a book beneath the blankets next to his sweet wife’s sleeping form. He picked it up ready to place it on the small table on her side of the bed before taking a look at the title and realising it was the book that had so often stolen her attention away from him during the nights they spent together before the fire. The prince’s insatiable curiosity, it seems, also extended to what on earth his sweet wife could be reading in the non-academic books she so loves.

Flipping over to one of the pages he remembers her completely raving about with her lady in waiting, he began to read and as he continued, a plan began to formulate.

She was met by a chorus of “good morrow, Princess” to which she responded with decidedly less vigour and an almost petulant expression as she discovered that her husband was in fact not in their shared chambers. This prompted the other ladies in the room to barely suppress their giggles knowing how not seeing her husband in the mornings can dampen her mood - not that the Prince fairs any better himself.

“Do any of you happen to know where my dear lord husband is at such an hour?” she discontentedly drawled.

The handmaidens exchanged uneasy glances with one another which, of course, did not escape her watchful gaze and she probed further with a single raise of an eyebrow. Silence ensued for a couple of very awkward, tension-filled seconds until the Princess’ lady in waiting - Elaena - stepped closer and stated that “we are not at liberty to say, Princess,” adding a slight curtsy at the end.

Again silence ensued only interrupted by her own chortle “what in the name of the seven do you mean ‘not at liberty’, forgive me but I am utterly confused.”

“I’m afraid Prince Aemond has forbidden us to speak of it Princess and he reminded us that if you demanded… well Princess he said for us to remember that his orders outrank yours,” Elaena hesitantly explained, shoulders visibly tense at her admission.

An even longer silence commenced, this one not so easily interrupted. Instead the Princess slightly nodded her head and proceeded to load some fresh fruits onto her plate before biting into a strawberry that was surprisingly ripe given the season. She sat with a contemplative look on her face, her ladies worried she was deeply hurt when really she was wondering what the best way to punish him would be, perhaps…

She was pulled from her musings by a knock on the chamber doors which one of the handmaidens - Lyla - was quick to answer. She carried a written message delivered by a page boy and with mild curiosity the Princess unravelled it and began to read.

She then very calmly got up, retreating to the sitting chambers with her beloved book and instructed her handmaidens to leave her, and on their way to “inform Prince Aemond that if he wishes to have an audience he may do so in our private chambers, I am not a dog to be called to heel and told to wait in the dragon pit until he finally chooses to descend from the sky”.

Suddenly Queen Helaena turned to look directly into the Princess’ eyes causing her to startle. Helaena grasped her arms in a gentle hold and decided that “you will be very happy with it,” and while not always understanding but being kind to Helaena’s ways, the Princess confidently nodded in affirmation.

“I’m certain I will be sister,” followed by a soft squeeze of the Queen’s hands she quickly let go to ensure she didn’t crowd the gentle soul beside her.

Turning her attention to Maelor, the youngest of the King and Queen’s children, she scooped him into her arms and brought him to her lap where she proceeded to grab the second less than perfect dragon (Daeron’s first attempt) and began to play with him. Entirely encompassed by the babe's soft giggles she failed to notice the shadow of her husband nor feel the piercing but fond gaze he stared at the two of them with - giving him a few ideas of his own.

Finally sensing his presence, his sweet wife turned towards him and pinned him with a markedly less than sweet gaze. After returning Maelor to his mother, the princess stood, brushed off her dress, said her goodbyes to the children with the promise of visiting again soon, squeezed Helaena’s hand and strode straight past her dear husband without so much as a look in his direction.

Aemond Targaryen, the incredibly formidable man that he is, immediately turned and followed (and after speaking with her lady in waiting) trailed a step behind knowing that if he got any closer he may well be subject to a more physical attack.

“Sweet wife - ,” his mouth slammed shut, the sound of his teeth clacking together audible as she turned around to face him and he thanked the seven that they’d at least made it to the hall outside their chambers to give a small amount of privacy.

“How can I be of service to my Prince? Shall I draw you a bath, change your linens, perhaps wash them too? After all, your commands should certainly be obeyed by all who rank lower than you lord husband!” and Aemond’s moment of stunned silence was all she needed to turn and push the door to their chambers open, her hair almost whipping Aemond in the face. After clearing his throat and righting his already perfectly placed doublet, the prince followed after his wife. This time the nod to Ser Steffon was slightly more stiff and definitely less cordial.

Upon entering their chambers, it became apparent that his sweet wife was just getting started on his torture as she began shedding her day clothes to ready herself for dinner that night as it had become customary for the royal family to dine together per the Dowager Queen Alicent’s request. As he walked in she turned to look at him, again raising a single eyebrow, a silent demand for him to explain himself and explain he did - after he managed to bring his eye back up to meet hers.

Aemond nervously began to describe how he had to go patrol the city earlier than expected that morrow and after his wife’s further probing he let out a sigh as he admitted that he was hiding something from her but he insisted she could not know. Instead he decided to avert her attention by apologising for his blunt and insensitive instructions, insisting his mind was incredibly preoccupied and he meant none of it.

After a beat, his sweet wife looked back up at him and simply agreed that it was foolish of him before continuing to prepare herself for dinner. With the guilt still weighing down on him, Aemond tried once more to draw a further reaction from her and informed her that “we will not be dining with the family tonight, my heart, it shall just be the two of us so please do not feel obligated to wear something that will placate my mother”. The huff of air Aemond let out could have rivalled Vhagar’s as his Princess finally met his eye and gave a smile of her own.

The Princess very quickly decided that she would never again allow her husband to guide her through the gardens, at dusk, alone with no idea of where on earth he was going. She marvelled at how her Prince had spent the entirety of his life growing up within the walls of the keep while she had only moved here three years past when their betrothal was finalised and yet she knew the gardens a lot better than he did. They walked in silence with the occasional mumble of “I’m sure it was this way”, “perhaps it’s actually that way” and what she is sure sounded like a “seven hells this is so embarrassing”.

Eventually, the Princess abruptly stopped walking causing Aemond to turn back to look at her with wide eyes as though he was expecting her to end the night and head back into the castle (which definitely seems tempting) but instead she drew herself closer to him tracing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb and sweetly asked him to tell her where he wanted to go and she would lead the way. Confusion clouded her eyes when she saw her husband’s gaze darken with disappointment at not being able to keep the location secret before giving a rather reluctant nod and mumbling the area of the gardens.

This again caused her to still, as not long before setting off on their adventure she’d gotten to her favourite scene in the romance novel she was currently re-reading which described the relationship between two lovers from flea bottom snook into the castle’s garden and had a picnic beneath a section where two trees intertwined to look like a heart. She let out a small laugh at the coincidence before leading him in the direction of the garden’s that she learned the trees actually existed in when she went searching after her first time reading the book.

As they stepped through the clearing, fingers interlocked, Aemond’s sweet wife stopped dead in her tracks. The scene before her bringing an onslaught of tears to her eyes and Aemond’s own eye drank in her reaction feeling his chest expand with pride. The scene was exactly as described in the books - granted the royalty version - with a table in the middle of the clearing, the heart trees standing right before it. A small fire was lit as the air was cool and biting and she thanked the gods for giving her a husband intelligent enough to organise for a canopy to be set up over the table. Even the food was some of the meats and fresh fruit described in her book.

After taking it all in, the princess - now thankful for there being no escort - fisted her husband’s nicest leathers and brought him down for a bruising kiss, whispering thank you’s and I love you’s in between.

Aemond’s own heart was beating out of his chest as they finally pulled away from one another and he helped her into her seat before taking his own next to her, never letting go of her hand - not even when they began to eat, opting to do it with his left hand instead, and certainly not as his sweet wife moved from her own seat into his lap, playing with his hair and telling him just how wonderfully he had done.

If you asked anyone who crossed paths with the Prince and Princess that night, they’d tell you that never before had they ever encountered two individuals looking so shamelessly in love. They’d express their shock as they witnessed their Prince, the fierce rider of Vhagar, laugh freely with his lady wife with his arm firmly wrapped around her waist and the Princess’ hand rubbing up and down his back.

As the Prince once again encountered Ser Steffon, he greeted the guard with a slightly more reserved smile than his wife received and instructed him to have a good night while he ushered his giggling wife inside. Once they were out of sight Ser Steffon let out a small chuckle of his own before walking a few paces down the hall, away from the door.

As the very smitten couple climbed into bed the Prince once again asked his sweet wife if everything met her standards to which she simply pulled herself up and decided on showing him how pleased she was instead - but not before ensuring the punishment she decided on earlier was carried out.

#in my fluff era (it probably won’t last long)#angst will always call me back I fear #if anyone sees any typos no you didn't 😭#darktrashsoulbear writes #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #ewan mitchell

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androgynealienfemme · 2 years ago

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"Faggy butch was good. It accurately described my pink button-down shirts, my giggles, the fact that I talked with my hands. I once saw a tape of myself in which I made a gesture that looked more like it belonged in A Chorus Line than in the middle of an interview. Faggy butch was like genderqueer -- not quite this or that, a little of both, maybe. A friend once said to me, "I access my femininity through my masculinity."

I feel lucky to have grown up in a world with butch pioneers, and I feel lucky that I had an idea about what being butch might have meant. But instead of making me feel part of the community, these constructions of what butch was -- stereotypes really-- pushed me away from the word and identity. Instead I chose a newer term, genderqueer, which had yet to be defined; it was in flux, it was a new frontier. I may not have been butch "enough", but genderqueer was all mine to rewrite and redefine.

I still like the word "genderqueer," still claim it and own it and love the way it makes room for me, in all my complexities. But I'm coming back around to butch. Maybe its because the years of pink prom dresses are further and further behind me, maybe its because i'm learning from butch elders who talk in terms that make room for me, giggles and all. Maybe its because the people i know have no idea (unless I tell them) that i was never a tomboy. They only know me -- my short hair tightly bound chest, and button down shirts.

I think that every new generation feels the need to reject their elders, reject what came before them, and feel that they are knew gender rebels. We invent terms, we create new spaces, and sometimes, we come back to where our big brothers started -- home."

“PERSISTENCE: All Ways Butch and Femme, Coming Back Around to Butch” Miriam Zoila Pérez, On Butch and Femme: Compiled Readings, (edited by I.M. Epstein) (2017)

#on butch and femme: compiled readings #on butch and femme #lesbian #gender-fluid #genderqueer #butch #butch lesbian #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq+#lesbian lit #queer lit #trans lit

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paddedlittleparadise · 9 months ago

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Victoria Volunteers, Part Five

Be sure to check out Parts One, Two, Three, and Four!

No thinking. Good girls don't think. Good girls let go. Good girls relax. And you… are a good girl. A very good little girl…

The chorus of whispers – some in sultry feminine tones, others in now masculine rumbles – seeped out through the headphones and into the hapless woman's brain. How long she had been here in this medical facility, she no longer knew. She no longer knew much of anything, in fact – not even how many times she'd fallen into unconsciousness and then blinked back to confused reality. Besides, how could anyone think straight with all these voices echoing nonstop in their ears?

Little. Yes, a little girl. You're forgetting everything else… except that you're a good, obedient little girl. You've always been a little girl… so very good and little and obedient…

Was that the truth? Victoria's external struggles had ceased long before – the straitjacket and bonds had seen to that – but now a small, tired burst of resistance flared within her drowsy brain. No… adult. She was… adult. Young adult. And good girl…? Well, Daddy had called her that in years past. Mandy also liked to joke about her "little" sister. And so she… well, she kinda was? The voice… it might be right after all…

Little girls like you… they forget. They don't have to think… or remember… or do anything. They get to relax. Yes… relax. Let everything go. Everything. Their thoughts… their memories… their bodies…

Victoria twitched silently, her mind and body still struggling feebly against the regression programming. But she… she didn't want to forget… did she? Somewhere far off – in the faint corners of her mind – there seemed to be something about urgency. Something between her legs, deep in her belly. Something she had to do…

Good little girls… they always want to become good little babies. Yes, they do. So sweet, so cute, so adorable… You're a good little girl… and we know. We know how you long to be an even better baby… Because babies don't even know how to think. They can't. They just play… and sleep… and drink. They crawl and cry and coo… Their bodies don't obey them… They have no control, because they don't even know what control is…

Control. What… was this control about? Victoria was having trouble remembering amid the wash of sound. Whatever it was, it sounded hard. She was so tired after all this fighting. She just wanted it all to stop. To relax. To let everything fade away…

And you don't know either… do you? Of course you don't. You don't even understand the question anymore – and that's because you've become a little baby now. Oh, yes. You already have. No control… no thoughts… just relaxing every… single… muscle… Letting everything go…

Something slowly unclenched deep within her now. Victoria's bound body twitched involuntarily… but it was a primal reflex and nothing more. Her mind was drifting now: only vaguely aware in the dreamiest of ways of the trickling sensation between her legs… and practically oblivious to the warm, silently swelling bulk of the diaper as it drank in her first infantile accident.

–––

Above her, and unseen by Victoria's glazed eyes, a blue light winked. A moment later, it winked again. And then again… the only indication of the high-resolution camera mounted there, and which was effortlessly documenting this patient's first and most momentous foray into regression therapy.

Not that Victoria was aware of it, of course. Let alone that her image – as a bound, gagged, and diapered prisoner – was at that very moment flashing up on a monitor some three hundred miles away in her elder step-sister Mandy's office.

An image, it must be confessed, that brought a slow, satisfied smirk to Mandy's handsome face.

(The end – for now!)

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Be sure to check out my Patreon or my Ream Stories if you want to read more of my naughty fiction!

#diaper captions #ab/dl caption #paddedlittleparadise #abdreams #med/fet

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gayphob1a · 1 year ago

Text

STWG Daily Drabble 9/30/23

prompt: drunk talk

“Ssteeeve! Over.” Dustin’s voice comes over the radio, staticky and slurred.

It’s 1 AM, Steve has a shift first thing in the morning, and he really should be sleeping, but he’s been nervously awaiting this call all night. His kids are finally leaving the nest, going to their first party and he knew this meant they would be calling him for a ride at some point, so he kept the volume up on his radio. When he doesn’t answer fast enough, a whole chorus of clumsy voices crackle over the radio.

“Steven Anita Harrington! Over.” Mike starts giggling like a mad man at the very incorrect middle name he’s decided to give Steve. In the background, Steve is pretty sure he can hear someone throwing up.

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, and then after a moment of silence, adds: “Over.”

“Thank you, Steven! We are great! Over.” There’s a cacophony of giggles and Steve is pretty sure they forgot why they even called,

“Do you need a ride? Over.”

“To where? Over.”

“Y- Dumbass, to your homes. Okay stay where you are, I'm coming to get you.” Steve zips a hoodie halfway up his bare chest, too tired and annoyed to put a shirt on, and grabs his keys on the way out the door. He’d had the good sense to make them tell them who was throwing the party, and a couple minutes later, he’s pulling up to a house that’s not too far from his own. He spots his gaggle of drunkards immediately, the lot of them huddled around the radio, shaking it and hitting the side like it’ll split at the seams and drop candy. “Hey! Dumbasses! Get in the car,” he hollers.

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas look up from the radio, dumbfounded. “Steve, what are you doing here?” Lucas asks.

“Dude, I just told you I was coming to pick you up.”

Mike scoffs and puts an arm around Will who, yup that definitely was puking he heard, because Will is doubled over in the bushes. “You didn’t say ‘over’, dumbass.”

“Just get in the car! You guys are sleeping at mine tonight, or your parents will kill me for letting this happen.” The boys stumble towards the car, fighting over the handle for the front seat when a large hand appears out of nowhere and pushes them out of the way.

“Nuh uh kiddos, respect your elders. I ride shotgun.” Eddie says, swaying only a fraction as bad as the kids. They grumble, but agree and help Will into the backseat. “And a good evening to you, boys.” Eddie says, staring directly at Steve’s chest.

From the back seat there’s a chorus of “Boo! Weak! Do better!” Even from Will, who is barely holding his head up off Mike’s shoulder. Eddie takes the challenge as Steve starts driving back to his house.

“I’ve always wanted to live in the jungle,” he says. Steve has to swat Eddie’s hand away from running through his chest hair, desperately trying to be annoyed and not aroused in front of the kids. But Eddie knows Steve knows he has a thing for his hair, and Steve has a thing for anything that gets Eddie riled up.

“What are you even doing here, Eds? I thought you were at home.”

“Team bonding?” Eddie tries.

“He was selling drugs!” Dustin hollers, absolutely zero control over his volume.

Eddie whips around in his seat to yell “You motherfucker!” at Dustin.

“Nope,” the kid retorts. “Pretty sure that’s you.”

When they pull into Steve’s driveway, he orders the kids to go to the living room and go to sleep. The boys slowly fumble their way out of the car and through the front door, all the while Eddie stares at Steve with a lusty fire burning in his eyes.

“You wore that just to torture me, didn’t you?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I didn’t even know you were at the party. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“OR we could stay out here and fog up these windows.”

“Nice try, my beautiful little distillery, you are far too drunk. Now be a good boy and get in bed, and maybe I’ll let you pet me you little weirdo.”

Eddie unbuckles and throws the door open so fast that he trips over his feet and face plants getting out of the car. He hops up, no worse for wear, and turns around to salute Steve. “Sir, yes sir!” He yells, and sprints through the house to Steve’s bedroom.

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #yet again one of these prompts has gotten away from me

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slu7formen · 9 months ago

Text

luke castellan x fem!reader

Luke has been making fun of your ‘unnecessarily absurd beauty routine’ —as he liked to call it— for the past week, so, you decide to drown him in it, just to see how much he can handle.

warnings: just a single use of the word b1tch, fluff at the end <3, little use of yn

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

i. the eyebrows

“Ow, ow, ow! That hurt!”

“No it didn´t!”

“Yes, it did!”

“Shut up and hold still”

“Ow! You´re pinching my skin, you bitch!”

“That was fully on porpuse”

A chorus of laughter erupted from the nearby bunk beds. Most of the boys, Luke´s half-siblings, gathered around you both, enjoying the show, eyes gleaming with mischief as they witnessed their usually stoic and confident counselor reduced to a whiny mess. Luke´s head was leaning on your thighs as you plugged his eyebrows with some dangerously sharp tweezers.

“See, that´s what you get for making fun of a girl” Travis Stoll, the elder of the Stoll brothers, joined in, a smirk on his lips. "We all warned you about messing with her” he pointed towards you.

“Shut up, Travis!” Luke spat.

You enjoyed the way his face was turning red, from embarrasment and because he was trying so hard to hold back his tears.

“You know, Luke” you started, plugging on another thin hair which earned you a little curse whispered from his lips. “You can always just, give up on the bet”

You found yourself enjoying the sight immensely. The perfect Hermes´ cabin counselor who'd spent the past week mocking your beauty routine,– here he was, sprawled across your lap, a prisoner of your tweezers.

“There´s no way in hell I´m letting you beat me that easily" he declared, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

You couldn't help but smirk. The bet had been born out of sheer frustration. For the past week, Luke had been relentless in his teasing about your beauty regimen. He'd mocked the meticulous way you cared for your eyebrows, the endless battle against unwanted body hair, the whining about the occasional pimples even when you spent a good twenty minutes locked in the bathroom cleaning your skin. He'd called you high-maintenance, a slave to societal expectations, and everything in between.

Finally, you'd snapped. "Alright, Castellan" you'd declared, eyes blazing. "How about a little bet? If you can handle a full day of 'girl stuff,' I'll clean your cabin for a week"

The look of surprise on Luke's face had been priceless. He'd scoffed, of course, overconfident and utterly clueless about the sheer torture involved in waxing, tweezing, and mud masks. But fueled by his arrogance, he'd readily agreed.

Now, here you were, watching him squirm on your lap like a fish, a testament to his underestimation of the situation. A wave of satisfaction washed over you. It wasn't just about winning the bet, though that was certainly a perk. It was about showing him, in a slightly sadistic way, that there was more to "girl stuff" than he thought. It was about proving that self-care wasn't about vanity, but about feeling confident and comfortable in your own skin.

“As you wish, little baby”

Chris suddenly appeard in your vision, the satisfaction on his face plagged as if he was enjoying this more than you did. “You know, yn” he called out, you momentarily stopped, accidentally giving Luke a break. “Luke has a little hair situation going on under his arms”

“What!?” Luke blurted out. His siblings laughed again.

“He does?” you asked Chris, looking down at Luke and patting his head like a little kid.

“Oh, yeah” Chris smirked. “Maybe that could be the next step, don´t you think?”

“I´m gonna-” Luke tried to get up from his bed, hands reaching out towards Chris. He took a step back just as you grabbed Luke by his shoulders and pushed him down again towards your lap.

“I´m not done with you yet, tough guy. But Chris´ right. Get your hairy armpits ready”

ii. the waxing

You pulled out a box of waxing stripes. Luke, oblivious to the impending torture, was too engrossed in examining his newly sculpted eyebrows in the hand mirror you'd provided. A satisfied smirk played on your lips. The eyebrows looked fantastic – perfectly groomed without being overly feminine. Because yes, he asked you to keep them as close to their natural shape as possible.

“Shirt off” you declared.

His head whipped towards you, eyes wide with horror and disbelief. His half-brothers, mirrored his action, erupting in a chorus of whistles and catcalls.

"Excuse you?" he sputtered, h is voice a touch higher than usual.

"Damn," Connor drawled to you. "at least ask the guy out first"

You rolled your eyes. Luke shot him a withering glare, but beneath the bluster, you could see a flicker of nervousness.

You held up the waxing strips. “It´s time for your armpits, champion” you announced with a playful lilt in your voice. You began rubbing the strips together to warm the wax.

He whined, pulling his camp t-shirt over his head, revealing his well-toned torso, and throwing it over a nearby bunk. You stole a glance at his body for a microsecond, a slight red blush coloring your cheeks. His brothers were quick to start a echo of whistles.

He flopped down heavily on the bed, one arm raised awkwardly above his head. To your surprise, there wasn't as much hair as you'd anticipated. But that didn't diminish the sheer terror radiating from him. You stifled a laugh. "Relax, Luke" you said, your voice gentler now. "The tenser you are, the worse it'll be."

His brothers leaned in closer, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. You carefully pressed the strip against his skin, smoothing it down with the practiced ease. He held his breath, his entire body tensing in anticipation.

You inhaled sharply yourself, then you ripped the strip off in one swift motion. Luke let out a yelp that would have made a banshee proud. His face contorted in pain, and his free hand clenched into a fist. His brothers erupted in laughter, their amusement fueled by his pain.

"Alright, alright" you said, trying to sound sympathetic despite the laughter bubbling in your throat. "Deep breaths, Luke. If you don´t relax, it´s gonna hurt more"

He glared at you, his voice laced with a hint of betrayal. "Easy for you to say."

Ignoring his grumbling, you ripped off another strip. A chorus of gasps filled the room, and Luke let out another yelp, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

"See?" you said, holding up the strip adorned with a few stray hairs. "Not so bad, right?"

He wanted to murder you.

"Don't you use anesthesia for this?" he wheezed after a particularly harsh pull on his other armpit, his eyes watering slightly.

“We´re not babies, Luke” you replied, shaking your head. "Just good old-fashioned grit and determination. Besides, you wouldn't want to miss out on the full 'girl stuff' experience, would you?"

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity —at least for Luke—, you finished. His armpits were as smooth as a baby´s butt. His brothers, unable to resist themselves, reached out and slapped the freshly waxed skin, earning them a swift kick each from a now-furious Luke.

iii. the skincare

"Skincare? Seriously?" Luke asked, sitting down on your bed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You all went to your cabin to continue his so claimed ‘girl´s day´. You would´ve paid to take a picture of your sisters´ faces when they saw you walk in with a bunch of boys following you behind.

“Just lay down, princess” you declared “I´ll bring my stuff”

He leaned back against the your pushy pillows, getting comfortable.

“First time on a girl´s bed?” Chris asked, earning a few laughs from his siblings.

“Shut up” Luke spat.

You came back with your washbag, full of different products that nearly gave Luke a heart attack. You had to assure him that this time, this wasn´t gonna hurt. At least not the first part, but you kept it a secret.

"Alright, beautiful” you teased. “Let’s get started. First thing’s first. “Cleansing”

You dipped a soft washcloth in warm water and began gently wiping away the dirt and sweat from his face. Luke closed his eyes, a look of unexpected serenity washing over his features. You noticed him get loose under your touch, a slight smile playing on his lips, and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of surprising compliance.

“Wow” he said. “This is actually quite nice”

"See?" you said softly. "This isn't so bad"

He opened one eye, a playful glint mirroring your own. "Not bad at all" he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice “Guys, you should try this."

The Hermes´ cabin boys leaned in closer, their usual boisterousness replaced by a quiet attentiveness. They watched as your fingers moved with a practiced ease, cleansing Luke's skin with a tenderness they hadn't seen before. They saw you take some cleanser, and rub it softly against Luke´s skin.

They all exchanged glances, a new kind of curiosity flickering in their eyes. Usually, the sight of anyone touching Luke, let alone his face, would have elicited a barrage of teasing. But seeing you, your movements gentle and practiced as you gathered a gentle cleanser, they found themselves strangely mesmerized.

"Well, he looks chill" Connor added. "Could you clean my face sometime, yn?"

You chuckled, throwing a playful glance thorwn at him. "Maybe later, Connor. Right now, it's all about Luke's glow-up."

Next came the toner, followed by a light moisturizer. Luke remained surprisingly still, his eyes closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips from time to time. His brothers, bored by the lack of drama, started to get bored.

Just as you were about to get some eye patchs, your eyes drifted on a little tool inside your washbag; your blackhead remover. An idea came up to you.

"Alright, Luke" you announced, a hint of warning in your voice. "Time for the fun part."

You reached for a steaming hot towel and pressed it gently against his nose and forehead. He inhaled deeply, the steam opening up his pores.

"This feels so nice" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the towel.

A slow grin spread across your face. "Oh, it gets better" you said, an evil spark in your eyes.

You grabbed the blackhead extractor and, with practiced ease, began gently removing the unwanted blemishes.

Suddenly, Luke's eyes flew open, a look of pure horror replacing his previous serenity. "Wait! What are you doing?" he shrieked.

"Shh" you hushed him playfully. "Relax. These little guys gotta go. Trust me, it'll be better for your skin in the long run."

"But it hurts!" he whined, swatting your hand away with a surprisingly weak attempt.

"Just a little pinch" you reassured him, your voice a mockery he hated. "Besides, if you don't remove them now, they'll grow bigger and poppier, and that will hurt even more."

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as you expertly extracted another blackhead. This bet was getting a little harder to beat than expected. He winced slightly, then a defeated sigh escaped his lips.

“So, Connor” you called. “You wanted to be next, right?”

iv. make up

"So," you began, a sly smile playing on your lips as you settled into the chair across from Luke, "you think makeup is easy, right?"

"Shouldn't be that hard, I guess" he mumbled, trying to sound confident. Inside, however, his stomach churned with fear and worry.

You gestured towards your desk, which was now overflowing with an array of colorful tubes, palettes, and brushes – an arsenal of beauty products foreign to the boys' eyes. "Alright then," you declared, a playful lilt in your voice. "Here's a little game. I'll show you each product and you have to guess what it's for. Every one you get wrong? Goes on your face."

Luke's eyes widened in horror.

"Wait, what?" he sputtered, a nervous tremor in his voice. "You can't be serious!"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "But Luke, you just said makeup was easy. This is your chance to prove it!"

"This is cheating" he mumbled, looking betrayed. "You never mentioned makeup in the bet!"

"Technically," you countered, holding up a finger, "it's still 'girl stuff’, as you call it”

A groan escaped Luke's lips. He shot a desperate glance towards his brothers, hoping for some kind of intervention. Charles Beckendorf, who allegedly decided to join the fun, just grinned towards him.

"Don't chicken out now, Luke" he said, arms crossed over his chest. "You can always give up on the bet and let her win”

Luke glared at his friend, silently cursing the day he ever agreed to this ridiculous wager. He sighed dramatically, slumping back on the bed. "Fine" he mumbled, defeated. "At least try your best to make me look decent."

“That´s not gonna be on me, dear”

You couldn't help but laugh at his misery. You reached across the desk, picking up a sleek black tube with a silver cap. It felt cool and smooth in your hand.

"What do you think this is?" you asked, holding it up for him to see.

Luke squinted at the tube, his brow furrowed in concentration. He recalled seeing something similar in movies, actresses applying it with a flick of their wrist. An idea flickered in his mind.

"Eyeliner?" he ventured, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.

You arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Huh, correct”

You set the eyeliner aside, a mischievous glint returning to your eyes. Next up, you picked up a thin, wooden-looking tool with a pointed tip. There was a small, round piece of what looked like colored chalk attached to the end.

"Alright," you announced, "round two. What is this?"

Luke studied the object carefully. It did resemble a pencil, but the colored tip threw him off. He wracked his brain, trying to recall anything similar he'd seen in the vast array of makeup products on your desk.

"Uh… a pencil?" he finally ventured, his voice lacking conviction.

You burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the cabin. Tears welled up in your eyes quickly, blurring your vision slightly.

"A pencil, Luke?" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your cheek. "It’s a lip liner"

Luke's cheeks flushed crimson.

"Lip liner?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper. "For what? Do I need to draw on a bigger mouth?" He gestured to his own lips, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.

You shook your head, stifling another giggle. "No, no need for a bigger mouth. Lip liner helps define the shape of your lips."

With a shake of your head, you said, "Now the fun part begins. Bring those lips here, handsome."

Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face hovering a few inches from yours. The air got filled with a strange tension, probably because his brothers walked closer so they could get a better look. His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You´re lucky this is the same shade as your natural lip color” you whisper.

“Yeah” Chris adds. “Maybe you should wear it more often, handsome” he reaches out his hand to squeeze Luke´s cheeks, but he´s quick enough to slap his hand away.

“Shut up”

The minutes that followed were filled with a more lighthearted energy. You continued the game, Luke surprisingly getting a few things right – foundation, and even a surprisingly good guess on a shimmery eyeshadow palette.

But he wasn't without his misses. The concealer, a light, creamy formula designed to camouflage blemishes, ended up being applied liberally under his eyes, leaving him with a ghostly pallor that had his brothers doubled over in laughter. Then came the blush. A delicate peach shade, turned his cheeks a comical shade of fuchsia thanks to your deliberately exaggerated application with a fluffy brush.

His brothers, fueled by this new display of comedic gold, howled with laughter. Charles, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezed, “He-, he looks like a baboon in heat”

"Oh man" Travis howled, clutching his stomach. "This is even better than the armpit wax"

Next came the eyelash curler, that strange-looking contraption that promised to create dramatic, fluttery lashes. The moment you held it up, Luke's eyes widened in suspicion. He snatched it from your hand before you could ask him what he though it was.

"What the hell is this!?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of disgust and fear. "You girls like torturing yourselves with these things?"

You reached out and gently took the curler back. "No torture involved" you replied. “And since you know absolutely nothing about it…"

He tried to look defiant, but a flicker of uncertainty betrayed him. "I know what it is" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Oh really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

You handed him the curler and watched as he fumbled with it, his big hands clearly not designed for such delicate work. He eventually gave up with a defeated sigh.

"Okay" he grumbled, handing the curler back to you. "Do your worst."

The final touches were a disaster, a glorious, hilarious disaster. Every fiber of Luke's being screamed in protest as you handed the brushes over to his merciless brothers.

“Come here, Lookie-Pookie” Travis cooed, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he leaned in with a thick brush loaded with sparkly eyeshadow. Luke recoiled, swatting his hand away with a glare.

"Don't touch me!”

“Come on Luke, give us those pretty little lips. We need to make sure they're nice and kissable” Beckendorf joined, opening a little lip product tube he wasn´t sure what it really was.

Luke wanted to melt into the floor, his face burning hotter than the volcanic eyeshadow now smudged across his eyelids. The audacity, the betrayal! His own brothers, the supposed bastions of masculinity, were gleefully participating in this humiliation.

“Maybe some of this highlighter will make him look prettier”

He couldn´t believe his own brothers knew what highlighter was except for him.

As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, a mix of horror and amusement washed over him. He never thought he'd feel so violated by makeup. But somewhere amidst the frustration and embarrassment, a strange sense of camaraderie bubbled up. His brothers, usually his biggest tormentors, were doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. And you, the leader of this whole mess, were practically glowing with barely suppressed mirth.

Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corner of Luke's lips. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Sure, he looked like a technicolor disaster, but the shared laughter, the fun, it felt strangely… good. He glanced at you, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Gods” he breathed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "This is the best day of your life, isn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that filled the cabin. "Hell yeah it is" you replied as you offer him make up wipes.

v. the reconcile

Night had fallen, painting the sky with shimmering stars. The campfire illuminated the campers´ face, its flames dancing higher as the Apollo cabin filled the air with joyful camp songs. Laughter mingled with the strumming of guitars and lyres, creating a symphony of pure summer camp bliss.

The fire itself danced in response to the campers' emotions. It roared a little higher with every burst of laughter, dimmed momentarily during a quiet story, and flickered with a playful intensity as the Hermes boys, fueled by their mischievous exploits, recounted their version of the day's events.

You sat by the fire, poking a marshmallow with a stick, watching the scene unfold. Their narrative, of course, focused heavily on your supposed "torture" of Luke. Specially the Stoll brothers; they painted a picture of you as a ruthless makeup artist, a waxer who pealed Luke´s skin off and left his face shining like marble. Meanwhile, Luke simply sat there, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You noticed the Hermes boys regaling other campers with their story, punctuated by bursts of laughter. And yes, you didn´t like to admit it but, you'd lost the bet. Technically. But watching Luke handle their teasing with surprising grace, a hint of amusement in his eyes, filled you with a strange satisfaction.

You were there by yourself for a few more minutes. The camp sounds filling your ears as you tried your best not to stuff your face in all the toasted marshmallows your sisters offered you. Your hands felt tired, because yes, even though what you did was not too much for you to handle, Luke squirmed and behaved like a worm covered in salt, which only made your work harder.

Just then, a figure settled in front of you. Luke. He held two sticks, each crowned with a perfectly toasted marshmallow. He offered one to you, his usual smirk replaced by a genuine smile.

"Truce?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

You couldn't help but grin, accepting the marshmallow with a playful jab. "Truce"

He sat beside you, the marshmallow on his stick disappearing in one swift, hungry bite. Suddenly, you leaned in closer, feigning seriousness. "Oh dear" you said, your voice laced with mock concern.

Luke raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is it now?"

"You've got a blackhead. Right, there" you declared, pointing to a non-existent imperfection on his nose.

His eyes widened in mock horror. "No way! I´m not letting you touch my face again" He swatted at your hand playfully, but you were quicker.

"Hold still, you wriggly worm" you teased, pretending to grab his nose. A playful fight ensued, a flurry of limbs and laughter. You managed to land a swipe at his cheek with a gooey bit of marshmallow.

Finally, breathless with laughter, you both settled back down, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet camaraderie. As you bit into your marshmallow, a comfortable silence settled between you.

"So, about that bet" he began, wiping his marshmallow-streaked hands on his cargo pants.

You turned to look at him, still chewing on another marshmallow and a piece of melted chocolate. "Yeah?"

"I don't want you to clean my cabin" he explained.

"Why not? I lost the bet" you replied, surprised by his sudden declaration.

He looked at the sky, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, but… We're kind of a mess, actually. I would feel bad if you did it alone."

"Aww, Castellan, are you worried about little ol' me?" you teased him, squeezing his cheek playfully. He blushed a deeper shade of red, looking positively flustered.

"Maybe" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Okay, here's a deal" you continued, trying to cover your own blush. "I'll clean your cabin, but you have to help me. I really don't wanna get into dirty-underwear-business."

Luke considered this for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. "Deal. But I'm warning you, there might be some things you shouldn´t even try to touch with bare hands. And I mean Travis´ and Connor´s bunks”

From a distance, a group of campers — a mix of Hermes, Apollo, and Hephaestus cabins —watched your exchange with keen interest. The playful teasing, the way your hands brushed as you made your deal — it was all too much for their already overactive imaginations.

"I bet you fifteen bucks he's gonna ask her out by the end of the week" an Apollo camper, Lee, declared.

Chris snorted. "That's weak. Twenty bucks says he does it tonight."

hiiya, just thought I could write something different to what I usually do. hope you enjoyed <3 🩷

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x yn

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doumadono · 3 months ago

Text

Warnings: dark ending, smut, exhibitionism, blood, overstimulation, p in v, creampie, death

Summary: as the high priestess, you lead a ritual to summon the powerful King of Curses, offering your body and soul as a willing sacrifice, only to meet your inevitable demise at the hands of the very deity you revere

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

The torches crackled and hissed in their sconces, bathing the ancient temple in flickering light and casting shadows that danced across the walls. Your heart pounded against your ribs like a caged animal, the anticipation making your palms sweat as you stood in front of the altar, your fingers fumbling slightly with the crimson silk robe draped over your shoulders. You weren’t supposed to be nervous, not when you had performed similar rituals countless times before - but tonight was different.

Around you, the other believers swayed in unison, their eyes closed, their lips moving in fervent, whispered chants. Their voices rose and fell, a symphony of devotion that vibrated through your bones, a palpable force that seemed to draw power from the very air itself. You could feel it - thrumming through your veins, wrapping around your heart, filling your lungs until every breath you took felt heavy with anticipation.

Tonight, you were calling upon the King of Curses himself.

"Brothers, sisters," you called out, your voice commanding yet gentle, a whisper that carried power, "tonight, we offer ourselves to him. Our bodies, our souls - everything belongs to our Lord Sukuna."

Your words were met with a chorus of whispered agreements, their voices merging into one, an endless, hypnotic hum that resonated through the chamber. You took a step forward, the hem of your crimson robes trailing across the cold stone. You could feel it - a rising tide of energy that thrummed beneath your feet, creeping up your legs, twisting around your spine like a serpent.

The silk robe draped over your shoulders was barely a barrier, translucent, whisper-thin, catching the dim light of the torches and clinging to the curves of your body. It was the only thing shielding you from the eyes of other believers. As you moved, it slid against your skin like a lover’s touch, revealing glimpses of bare flesh, the swell of your hips, the curve of your breasts and the perky nipples that hardened due to the cold air in the chamber.

You had studied ancient texts, whispered tales passed down through generations, and listened to the trembling voices of elders. They spoke of a creature, a god-like demon, who could bring salvation or damnation with a flick of his wrist. And you needed him. You needed his power, his strength, to protect what was left of your home from the relentless enemy forces that threatened to devour everything you loved.

Your master had always warned you that summoning such a powerful entity could be dangerous. In fact, most would consider it sheer madness. But you had practiced, studied, and prepared every day for this moment. And the time had finally come.

You took a deep breath, pushing the doubts and fear from your mind. The ritual demanded absolute confidence, unwavering faith, and total submission. "Great Ryomen Sukuna," you began, your voice strong despite the fear coursing through your veins, "I call upon you, the one true King of Curses, to grace us with your presence. We offer our devotion, our loyalty, and our souls as tribute."

The wind seemed to howl in response, the flames of the torches flickering more violently as if acknowledging your words.

There was no turning back now.

You repeated the incantation, your tone growing more fervent, your body swaying with the rhythm of the ancient words.

The wind howled around you stronger, rustling your hair and the hem of your ceremonial robe. With trembling fingers, you took the knife from the altar, its blade gleaming in the moonlight. "O, King of Curses," you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath, "I offer you my blood, my flesh, my soul. Come forth and answer our call."

Without hesitation, you sliced across your palm, the sting sharp but brief. Blood welled up and dripped onto the cracked stone altar, seeping into the ancient symbols you had painstakingly carved into its surface. The ground trembled beneath you, as though the earth itself recognized the power you sought to unleash.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, the wind died down, the air becoming unnervingly still, and a sense of dread settled over you like a thick, suffocating blanket. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt an overwhelming presence, one that pressed against your very soul and made your body ache with fear.

From the back of the altar, a shadow stirred, a darkness so thick it seemed to swallow the flickering torchlight. The air grew heavy, stifling, and a hush fell over the temple as the believers knelt lower, trembling in anticipation. From the depths of that black void, a figure emerged - slowly, deliberately, as though he had all the time in the world to make his presence known.

Sukuna emerged from the darkness, his presence suffocating, overwhelming. He towered over all, a god among mortals, cloaked in light, flowing robes that barely concealed the powerful form beneath. His muscular body, honed and perfect, moved with the grace of a predator, every step deliberate, echoing with the weight of his authority. His skin was pale, but not with any human fragility - it was alabaster, almost ethereal, in contrast to the black, intricate markings that wound across his chest, arms, and neck. Those tattoos, like dark serpents, seemed to shift with the flickering light, symbols of his immense power and ancient origins, each line coiling and twisting like chains of darkness binding the god of curses.

But it was his face that captured you - the sight of him, fully revealed. His hair, a wild, chaotic pinkish-red hue, framed his angular features, strands catching in the torchlight like flames burning in the night. The color was unnatural, vibrant, a stark contrast to the coldness of his expression. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones gave him an undeniable, cruel beauty, a face that seemed carved by the gods themselves for the sole purpose of commanding and conquering.

His eyes, though - those were what ensnared you. Crimson and burning with an unholy light, they bore into you with terrifying intensity, gleaming with malevolence and ancient hunger. Four of them, two set above the other, creating a gaze that felt impossible to escape, as if they saw through everything - your soul, your mind, your very existence laid bare before him.

Two pairs of arms remained folded across his chest, the motion languid, casual, as though he had all the time in the world. His hands, adorned with black markings like the rest of his body, exuded a dangerous aura, as though each movement was capable of bending reality itself to his will.

His gaze swept over the temple, pausing only when it found you. Beneath the thin silk robe draped over your naked form, your skin prickled under his scrutiny. His eyes lingered, dark amusement playing in the depths of his four crimson orbs. His lips curled into a cruel, knowing smile, a smirk that told you he had seen this moment long before you had ever whispered his name. "Well," Sukuna's voice was deep, resonating with the power of an ancient god. "It’s been a long time since anyone dared to summon me in such a way. I thought all of my worshippers had been swallowed by the sands of time. And yet here you are, kneeling before me like a lamb to the slaughter, sacrificing yourself so willingly, little priestess.”

You swallowed hard, willing yourself not to tremble under his scrutiny. "I am here to serve you, my Lord Sukuna," you uttered, bowing deeply until your forehead nearly touched the stone floor. "I have dedicated my life to you, and I wish to offer myself as your vessel. I am yours to command."

Sukuna's laugh was harsh, echoing through the chamber like thunder. "Is that so? And what makes you think that you, a mere mortal, could be worthy of serving me?"

"I have prepared for this moment my entire life," you answered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "I am willing to give you everything - my body, my soul, my very existence - if it pleases you, my Lord."

"Hmmm." Sukuna stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as they roamed over your form. You could feel the heat radiating from him, a tangible aura of power that made your skin tingle. He towered over you, the sheer presence of him enough to make you feel like an insect beneath his heel. "Stand," he ordered, and you obeyed, rising to your feet with as much grace as you could muster.

He reached out with one of his many hands, the claws grazing your cheek, drawing a single line of blood. He observed the crimson droplet with a glint of amusement before pressing his thumb to your lips. "Lick it," he commanded, and without hesitation, you parted your lips, your tongue darting out to taste the coppery tang of your own blood.

"Interesting," Sukuna mused, watching you with a predatory intensity. "You do not cower or flinch. Are you not afraid of me, little priestess?"

"I am," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But my fear is nothing compared to my desire to serve you, my Lord."

His laughter reverberated through the temple once more, and this time, you could sense a hint of genuine amusement beneath the mockery. "Very well. Let’s see if you can truly entertain me."

In a blink, Sukuna's fingers curled around your throat, lifting you off your feet as if you weighed nothing.

You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping his wrist, but you didn’t struggle. You couldn’t - wouldn’t.

He brought you closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Do you know what happens to those who disappoint me?" he whispered, his tone dark and laced with malice.

"No, my Lord," you replied, your voice choked but unwavering.

"They die," he mused simply, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Painfully. Slowly. And I enjoy every second of it."

He released you, and you crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. But even in the face of such raw power, you felt no regret. You pushed yourself back up onto your knees, bowing your head. "I will not disappoint you, my Lord," you promised.

"Prove it," Sukuna growled, gesturing toward the altar. "Strip."

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the sash of your robe, but you obeyed, letting the silk slide from your shoulders to pool around your feet. You stood before him, naked and vulnerable, feeling the weight of his gaze as it roamed over every inch of your body.

Despite your nakedness exposed to the cold air of the temple and the eyes of the other believers kneeling around you, you felt no shame, no fear. Their gazes, if they dared to lift their heads from the stone floor, meant nothing in the grandness of this moment. You had prepared for this - body, mind, and soul. Each prayer, each offering, every ritual bath had cleansed you of doubt, stripped you of earthly concerns. Your purpose was singular, unwavering. It wasn’t their eyes that mattered; only his. You stood bare not only in flesh but in spirit, ready to fulfill the sacred role of high priestess, ready to meet the eyes of the god you had summoned. This was the moment you had waited for, and no mortal gaze could shake your resolve.

Sukuna took his time, savoring the sight of you, and a dark chuckle escaped his lips. "Such a delicate little thing," he murmured, almost as if to himself. "I wonder how long you'll last before you break."

He approached you, each step sending a jolt of electricity through the air, and with a flick of his wrist, you were laid out on the altar, your back against the cool stone. The sensation was jarring, but you didn’t dare protest.

Sukuna’s hands traced the length of your body, his touch both gentle and brutal as he gripped the plush of your skin occasionally as if he were mapping out all the ways he could destroy you. His smile widened, revealing sharp, pointed teeth that gleamed in the dim light. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his mouth claiming yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You could feel his other hands moving, one pinning your wrists above your head, another spreading your legs wide for him, and the last caressing the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing out a shiver that left you weak.

He played with your hard nipples a bit, then reached up and stuck a finger in your mouth.

You sucked on it for a second, and then the king of curses pulled it out and smeared the wetness on your left nipple.

Once it was wet, he blew on it, and it hardened even further.

You moaned softly, sucking your lower lip into your mouth, rubbing your thighs together.

He parted your legs unceremoniously.

As his fingers brushed against your pussy lips, you gasped, your body instinctively reacting to the sensation. "Please…" you begged, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

"Please, what?" Sukuna taunted, nipping at your lower lip, drawing blood and drinking it willingly. "You’ll need to be more specific, little priestess."

"Please, take me," you pleaded, the desperation evident in your voice. "Make me yours, my Lord Sukuna."

Sukuna’s grin was feral, and without warning, he thrust two fingers inside you despite the resistance of your tight pussy, making you cry out in both pleasure and pain. "Such a pretty little thing," he cooed mockingly. "So eager to be ruined." He moved his fingers with a deliberate slowness, savoring every reaction, every gasp, and moan that escaped your lips while his thumb brushed over your clit.

It was overwhelming: the heat, the sensation, the knowledge that you were entirely at his mercy. Your legs were already trembling like leaves on the cold autumn wind. You writhed beneath him, your body straining against the hold of his hand on your wrists, and he watched you with those crimson eyes, drinking in your every movement.

"Beg," Sukuna commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Beg for me, and I might consider being gentle."

"Please," you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Please, my Lord. I want you. I need you."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through your very bones. "Very well," he purred, "I’ll grant you your wish." He pushed his white hakama pants down his muscular legs, revealing the monstrous size of his member. His cockhead bounced back firmly against his toned abdomen, an audible slap as flesh met flesh. He slowly jerked himself several times, watching you writhing in anticipation, gently playing with your breasts as you looked him right in his crimson eyes. His cock got rock hard nearly instantly. Ryomen positioned himself at your entrance, and with a single, brutal thrust, he filled you completely, the angry, red tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he settled himself within your wetness.

You cried out, arching off the altar, your fingers digging into the stone as he began to move, each thrust harder, faster, and more demanding than the last.

The pain was there, sharp and searing, but it was drowned out by the pleasure, the feeling of being completely and utterly claimed by the King of Curses. "You belong to me now," Sukuna growled, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck after he leaned in. "You’ll serve me, obey me, worship me until the day you die."

"Yes," you gasped, clinging to him, feeling your release building, the heat coiling tighter and tighter within your abdomen. "Yes, my Lord, always."

Sukuna's laughter was the last thing you heard before he drove you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure so intense it felt as though you might shatter. And as you fell apart in his arms, the only thought that lingered in your mind was that you were finally his.

The world around you blurred as your body quivered beneath Sukuna’s relentless assault, every nerve alight with sensation.

His nails - sharp and jagged - scraped across your skin, leaving thin red lines in their wake. He grope your breasts, squeezing them between his calloused digits, brushing the nipples with the pads of his thumbs. "You're so fragile," Sukuna murmured, almost as if in awe as he kept of fucking your already overstimulated pussy. "So breakable. Yet you begged for this. Tell me, does it hurt?" He improved your position and hoisted your legs up onto his muscular shoulders. Sukuna began a fierce pounding, hammering away from the start.

"Y-Yes," you stammered, your voice hoarse from screaming, from crying out his name. "But it feels so good. My pussy is so sore, my Lord!”

He chuckled darkly, leaning in close until his breath ghosted across the column of your neck. "That's because you belong to me now, little priestess," he whispered, each word a venomous promise. "I will make you mine over and over again until there is nothing left of you but a shell that worships my very existence."

After abruptly pulling out of you, he flipped you over, dropping you on all fours. He quickly positioned himself behind you, his fat, swollen, cockhead pressed against your wet needy pussy so hard it almost forced you open.

Grabbing your hips, his rough fingers digging into your fleshy hips that supported your fat fuckable ass, he threw himself toward. The power of his thrust would've forced you off the altar if not for Sukuna holding you in place. Your entire body surged forward as a cock too big to take was forced into you with unstoppable strength. Sukuna’s hand shot to grab your hair and pull you head back, arching your back against his chest as he kept on slamming into the tightness of your core. His other hand moved to wrap tightly around your neck.

The muscles in his arms bulged as he quickened his pace, slamming into you with a force that sent shockwaves through your sweaty body. ''There will be no breaks for you tonight, little whore of mine. I want to fuck this fucking cunt of yours non-stop, do you understand?”

You gave a nod and made a quiet sound, and Sukuna pushed his cock in deeper, making you squeal a muffled cry as you bit on your lower lip, drawing blood from the flesh.

The wet slamming of your bodies filled the huge chamber.

You couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but feel him. The sensation of his heat, his strength, and his utter dominance was enough to drive you to madness.

Soon, you were flipped on your back again, and immediately his massive cock pushed back into your abused pussy. His eyes burned with violent lust, yours were filled with a satisfaction like you'd just achieved your life's work.

One of his free hands moved up, tangling in your hair, jerking your head back so that you were forced to look into his eyes. Those crimson orbs gleamed with sadistic pleasure, reflecting the flickering flames around you, and you were certain you'd never seen anything more terrifying or beautiful in your life. "Say it," Sukuna commanded, his voice ragged. "Say that you belong to me."

"I… I belong to you," you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks, the rawness of your voice echoing in the chamber. "I am yours, my Lord Sukuna." You took immense pleasure in being watched by the other believers. Your body, already beautiful on its own, became a sight to behold when joined by Sukuna's presence.

The satisfaction in his expression was palpable, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as much a claim as it was a punishment. He kissed you with the same brutal intensity that he took you, his tongue invading your mouth, leaving no room for resistance, no space for doubt. His other mouth, placed on his abdomen decided to have some fun too, so the slimy tongue darted out to lap at your clitoris.

You felt the pressure building again, that unbearable coil tightening in your core, threatening to snap at any moment. "Please!" you gasped, your nails digging into his skin, your body arching against him in a desperate attempt to bring him even closer. "Please, my Lord, let me… let me…!"

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip tightening painfully on your wrists. "You will not come until I allow it. Do you understand?"

You nodded frantically, the desperation evident in every fiber of your being. "Y-Yes, my Lord.”

"Good," Sukuna purred, thrusting harder, deeper, his movements growing more erratic, more frenzied. The sound of your flesh meeting echoed in the chamber, mingling with your ragged breaths and the low growls that rumbled from his chest. And still, he denied you, holding you on the precipice of pleasure, refusing to let you fall over that edge. His dick brushed all of the right spots deep within your pussy, and since you were dripping wet at that point, some of your juices were pushed out of you by his massive length.

"Please…" you whimpered, your entire body trembling, your mind unraveling as you teetered on the brink. "I can't… I can’t…"

"Beg," he demanded, and the cruelty in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "Beg me for your release."

"Please, my Lord Sukuna," you sobbed, your voice breaking, your vision blurring as the tears streamed down your face. "Please, I beg you. I need it. I need you."

For a moment, he said nothing, merely watching you with that infuriatingly calm expression, his crimson eyes glowing with a light that seemed to come from another world. And then, without warning, he drove into you one final time, his body tensing, muscles rippling as he found his own release, spilling his thick, warm cum within you in nearly five massive spurts. The sensation was overwhelming, like fire spreading through your veins, igniting every nerve, every cell in your body. Slowly he withdrew the whole length of his cock and jerked himself while he kept on spraying thick liquid all over your helpless body. He covered your abdomen in hot cum until you were completely drenched in white, sticky goo. "Now," he growled, his voice rough and ragged. "Now, you may come."

It was all the permission you needed. The coil snapped, and you shattered, your body convulsing, waves of pleasure crashing over you in an endless, merciless torrent. You screamed, your voice hoarse and raw, the sound echoing through the temple, mingling with Sukuna’s own guttural groans as he continued to pound you, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your trembling form, not minding the hot tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. You shuddered in orgasm, cumming just from looking from under your half-closed eyelids, and imagining your Lord Sukuna fucking you again. "My body was made for you, my Lord.”

You were dimly aware of his hands on your body, caressing you, grounding you as you slowly came down from that euphoric high. Your vision blurred, your body limp, utterly spent, and you collapsed against the altar, unable to do anything but lie there, gasping for breath.

Sukuna’s fingers traced lazy patterns across your skin, and despite the roughness, there was a gentleness to his touch now, a possessiveness that made your heart flutter. "You did well," he murmured, his tone almost tender. "You pleased your lord."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Thank you, my Lord," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard it.

He smirked, leaning down to capture your lips once more, this time in a kiss that was slow, lingering, a silent acknowledgment of what you had just shared. Looking directly at where you were connected, Sukuna pulled his semi-hard cock out of you, grinning like a kid while watching how your mixed cum dribbled out of your reddened, abused hole. He scooped some on the pad of his index finger and took a closer look at the slimy, pearly white liquid slowly streaming down his digit. He pushed his finger past his parted lips, tasting himself and you on his tongue. “Such a delicious, little lamb,” he praised within a grunt that rumbled deep in his chest.

His fingers still traced across your skin, but their touch now carried a different weight.

You sensed the shift immediately, though your body, still dazed from the euphoria, struggled to react.

“Such a good little lamb,” he mused, his voice low and silky. “But even the most loyal lambs must be sacrificed.”

Your breath caught in your throat, but your body was too weak, too drained to move. You had known from the start what this ritual would cost you. You had prepared for it, accepted it. And yet, as you lay beneath him, his shadow swallowing you whole, that acceptance turned to a quiet, desperate hope for more - more time, more moments, more of him.

His hand wrapped around your throat with deceptive gentleness, his grip firm but not yet cruel. Sukuna leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ve served your purpose,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And now, you’ll give me one final gift.”

A flash of panic surged through your exhausted body, but it was too late. His fingers tightened, cutting off your air, and his crimson eyes glowed with an almost loving intensity as he watched the life slowly being drained from yours. You clawed weakly at his wrist, but there was no malice in his actions - only inevitability.

As the darkness crept in, your vision narrowing to a pinpoint, Sukuna pressed one last kiss to your forehead. “Rest now,” he murmured, his voice soothing, as if he were putting you to sleep rather than ending your life. “You’ve earned it, satisfying your lord.”

The world dimmed, your body going limp as your final breath left you. The last thing you saw was his cruel, satisfied smile, and then - then was pure nothingness.

The temple fell silent, save for the distant murmur of the remaining believers, aware that their high priestess had become nothing more than a sacrifice, her blood and soul claimed by the king of curses.

As Sukuna’s laughter echoed through the vast temple, the gathered believers knelt in silent terror again. Their faces, once filled with awe and reverence, were now twisted in fear. They had witnessed the culmination of the ritual, the ultimate sacrifice of their high priestess - the one who had led them, who had spoken the will of their dark god. And now, she lay still, her lifeless body draped across the altar, pale and motionless, while Sukuna stood over her, drenched in the eerie glow of the temple’s firelight.

Some of the followers dared to look up, trembling, their eyes wide with horror. The sight of Sukuna towering above her was both majestic and terrifying - a god who had claimed his offering without hesitation or remorse. The air hung heavy with the smell of incense and the iron tang of blood, a solemn testament to the price of their devotion.

One brave soul, trembling with fear, took a step back, his face pale. Others followed, their belief shaken as they witnessed the brutal truth of the god they had summoned. Whispers broke out, hushed and frantic, the terror rising in their chests as they realized that if even their high priestess could fall to Sukuna’s insatiable hunger, then none of them were safe.

Sukuna turned his gaze on them, his crimson eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement, and in an instant, the whispering ceased. Every believer froze in place, their hearts racing as they cowered under his piercing stare.

"Frightened, are we?" he drawled, his voice low and mocking, sending a chill down their spines. His presence was overwhelming, dominating the space as he stepped away from your lifeless form, leaving it to rest as though it were nothing more than a discarded toy.

He scanned the kneeling figures, a smirk playing on his lips. "You shall be," he continued, his tone dripping with cruel satisfaction. "What did you think would happen when you called upon me? That I would take, and not demand more?"

The fear in their eyes only seemed to amuse him further. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his bare feet silent against the stone floor, but every movement radiated power. "This is what it means to serve me," he said, his voice a dangerous purr, each word like a blade slicing through the tense silence. "To give everything. Your bodies, your souls, your lives."

He paused, his gaze narrowing, daring any of them to defy him. None did. "But take heart," he added, almost teasing, his tone shifting as though speaking to children. "Your devotion has pleased me. You live, for now. Consider yourselves fortunate, mortals."

A dark chuckle escaped his throat. “Continue to worship me," Sukuna claimed, his voice turning cold. "But remember - this is the price. When your time comes, there will be no mercy."

With that final, ominous warning, Sukuna turned away from them, disappearing into the shadows that had birthed him, leaving his followers trembling in his wake.

The oppressive silence returned, broken only by the faint crackling of the temple’s torches and some quiet sobs, as the believers remained frozen in place, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

In the center of the altar, your body lay still, a solemn reminder of the fate that awaited those who dared to summon the King of Curses.

#sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk smut #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna #dark content #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #smutty fanfiction #divider by cafekitsune

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 2 months ago

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Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader. Feat their children. A missing wife and a frantic family looking for her. Thanks!! :))

Missing

pairing: benedict bridgerton x f! wife reader

As the tranquil day at Aubrey Hall drew to an end, the golden rays of the setting sun cast an ethereal glow upon the Bridgerton estate. Benedict had planned a serene day alongside his beloved wife, Y/N, and their three dear children, basking in the contentment of family and the delicate exchange of glances that bespoke a love unbreakable.

However, as the evening shadows lengthened, a strange unease settled over Benedict’s heart. Y/N had ventured into the meadows with their eldest daughter, intent on gathering wildflowers to grace the drawing room. Benedict had remained behind with their two sons, the image of his wife and daughter laughing amongst the flowers lingering in his mind. Yet, as time wore on, his heart grew troubled, each passing moment deepening his sense of dread.

He called her name as he paced through the fields, his sons clinging to his sides with fretful expressions. Each shout of “Y/N!” grew louder, more desperate, reverberating through the quiet countryside, unanswered and met only with the whisper of the evening breeze. By the time he returned to the house, his face was a portrait of worry, his hands trembling as he tried to mask his alarm.

Word of Y/N’s mysterious absence spread swiftly among the Bridgertons. Anthony, ever the steady and pragmatic elder brother, seized command, rallying the family into search parties. Lanterns were lit, their warm glow piercing the encroaching darkness as the family fanned out, each one calling Y/N’s name into the cool night air, a chorus of worry and love.

Yet Benedict himself could scarcely manage coherence. His steps were hurried and unsteady, his breaths shallow, as if the very fear of her loss had stolen his ability to think clearly. Dark, haunting thoughts flitted through his mind visions of what might befall her, each more terrifying than the last. What if she lay injured, beyond his reach? What if… he dared not finish the thought, for even the idea of a world devoid of her presence threatened to unravel him.

As he roamed the forest edge, his heart aching with worry, a soft whimper caught his ear. Turning swiftly, he found their eldest daughter, her small frame trembling as she clung to a tree, her cheeks stained with frightened tears.

“Papa,” she whimpered, her voice a mere whisper in the stillness, “I lost Mama. I tried to find her, but… but I couldn’t.”

In an instant, Benedict dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to her brow. “Hush now, my darling,” he murmured, voice low and tender. “You did all you could. You are most brave, and I am here. We shall find her together.”

Hand in hand with his daughter, Benedict continued his search, his steps purposeful despite the persistent tremor in his heart. He would not could not give up, for the very thought was unthinkable. She was his heart, his soul, the very essence of his life.

Finally, as they entered a quiet glade shrouded in moonlight, his gaze fell upon a familiar figure, seated upon a fallen log, her ankle twisted, yet her countenance as serene as ever.

“Y/N!” he cried, voice choked with relief as he closed the distance between them. He fell to his knees beside her, enveloping her in his arms with a tenderness born of desperation. “My dearest, are you quite well? What befell you?”

“Oh, Benedict,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she clung to him. “I am unharmed save for a foolish misstep. I twisted my ankle, and could not find my way back. I am so terribly sorry to have caused you worry.”

“Never say such a thing,” he murmured, his voice thick as he cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You are safe, and that is all that matters. I cannot bear the thought of life without you. The very notion would undo me.”

A quiet sob escaped her, and she buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to him as if he were her anchor. He held her close, his hand weaving into her hair, murmuring assurances as his heart began to calm, each beat syncing to the warmth of her embrace.

Gently, Benedict lifted her into his arms, ignoring her weak protests that she could manage to walk. “Tonight, I shall carry you,” he insisted, a rare softness in his voice. “I cannot bring myself to let you out of my sight.”

When they returned to the estate, the family erupted with joy and relief, their children bounding forward, their laughter mingling with tears as they embraced their mother. Benedict settled her upon the sofa in the drawing room, wrapping her in a blanket as she rested her head against his shoulder, their children snuggling in close as though they, too, needed the comfort of her presence.

“Mama, tell us a story,” their eldest daughter whispered, her wide eyes reflecting the flickering glow of the fireplace.

Y/N smiled gently, settling a storybook upon her lap as their children nestled close, and she began to read, her voice soft and soothing, carrying the words with a warmth that wrapped around them all.

Benedict watched her, captivated by her grace, the way she animated each tale, the gentle glint in her eyes as she held their children’s undivided attention. Without thinking, he reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

She paused, glancing at him with a playful sparkle. “Mr. Bridgerton, might you be so kind as to cease your staring?”

He chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a blush. “Forgive me, Mrs. Bridgerton. But it is quite impossible to look away from a sight so enchanting.”

Their children groaned, accustomed to their parents’ displays of affection, yet Benedict could see the small, contented smile tugging at Y/N’s lips.

Once the story concluded, the children trotted off to bed, each one pausing to press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek before retiring. Benedict took her hand, guiding her to their bedchamber with a gentle care, lifting her in his arms as they ascended the stairs despite her gentle protests.

“Must you always be so stubborn?” she teased, though she leaned into him, her fingers tracing the familiar curve of his shoulder as he carried her.

“My dear,” he replied, his tone soft yet unwavering, “you must know by now that my resolve is unyielding when it concerns your well-being.”

In their room, he settled her upon the bed, carefully propping her ankle as he tucked a blanket around her. Lying beside her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as they lay in contented silence.

At length, Y/N broke the stillness, her fingers tracing circles over his chest. “Benedict, I feared you might think me careless.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her brow. “Perish the thought, my love. I am simply grateful to have you here, safe and within my arms. I could not fathom a world devoid of your presence.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes soft with love. “And I, Benedict, could never be complete without you. You are my heart, my constant.”

He took her hand, lifting it to his lips as he murmured, “Then let us remain as one, my beloved. Come what may, I vow to cherish you for all my days.”

With her hand still in his, Y/N drifted to sleep, her breath soft and even against his shoulder. Benedict watched her, his heart swelling with gratitude for the love that bound them, a love so steadfast that no force could sever it.

As he held her close, he whispered his vow once more, knowing that his heart had found its home, and that no darkness could ever diminish the light they shared.

#benidict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x wife reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine

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silkscream · 3 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 14: HALF RETURN

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

He can’t complain about being touch-starved. Not when he has two kids who were alone for God knows how long.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: graphic depictions of cursed spirits? blood. angst and such

ੈ✩ wc: 6.7k

ੈ✩ a/n: heres a fat chapter for yall you can stop complaining now

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

August, 2009

Gojo Satoru has never felt this powerful before. It should scare him, but his veins are surging with something above human. Gold-lined arteries as bright as the sun above him. The air crackles with energy around him, a visible distortion that warps reality itself. Satoru flexes his fingers, marveling at how the world seems to bend to his will. He can feel every particle, every atom, dancing at his command. He understands now why people would compare him to a God.

He is a fucking God. Nothing could kill him. Nothing could touch him.

He’d woken up in his own blood. Now, he stares, half-mad at the man bleeding in front of him.

“Any last words?”

Fushiguro Toji blinks back at him as if he’d just noticed the boy’s presence. Ah, a boy. Barely twenty with the world in his hands. When Toji was twenty, he was getting lashed by the Zenin elders. He doesn’t have it in him right now to feel bitter. He remembers his own boy, how he shares his eyes, his mean mug.

Blessing, he’d named him.

“In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan,” Toji drawls.

Satoru raises a brow.

“Do with that what you will.”

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, Satoru notices. The smallest bend of the scar adorning his mouth. Who smiles at their executioner?

Fushiguro Toji drops to the ground. Satoru only hears the buzz of cicadas and the thumping of his own heart.

Satoru stares at the fallen body, his mind reeling. The power coursing through him begins to ebb, replaced by a creeping unease. He'd expected satisfaction. Vindication. A cussing out, at least. Instead, he feels hollow.

He kneels beside the man’s body, searching for answers in his lifeless face. It’s as if Fushiguro’s face has a permanent hint of a smirk. Either that or Satoru imagines the final act of defiance. Satoru's eyes remain fixed on Toji's lifeless form, his final words echoing in his mind. A child. Sold to the Zenin clan. The implications slowly sink in, piercing through the haze of his newfound power.

"Fuck," he mutters, running a hand through his white hair.

The cicadas continue their relentless chorus, indifferent to the life just extinguished. Satoru's gaze drifts to the horizon, where the sun hangs low, painting the sky in hues of orange and red. It reminds him of Suguru, of Riko. Of you. Of promises made and broken.

He closes his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. When he opens them again, resolve hardens his features. He may be a god among men, but he's not above the weight of consequence. Not anymore.

He takes a step back, suddenly aware of the blood on his hands, on his clothes. The metallic scent fills his nostrils, making him nauseous. The world that had bent to his will moments ago now feels oppressively still.

The sun beats down mercilessly, and Satoru realizes he's been standing there for far too long. He needs to move, to report, to do something. But the thought of Toji's child nags at him, an irritating itch he can't scratch.

The summer heat presses down on the boy-god, suffocatingly so. He stands, wiping blood from his hands onto his slacks. The divine feeling from moments ago is distant now. Only human uncertainty lingers.

Satoru has dreams about the human with the scar splitting the side of his lip. It’s always the same — Fushiguro’s final words, his entire side blown to bits from Satoru’s hand. Satoru feels nothing until the man speaks. He always says something different, but it’s more or less the same.

– Any last words?

– Last words? Kid, I've been dead since the day I was born.

– You don't get it, do you? I could unmake you without a thought. I could rewrite reality itself.

– You really are a cocky bastard. What would that prove, huh? That you’re special?

Toji coughs blood onto the ground. It’s a wet, rattling sound.

– I used to envy power like yours. Now I know that I was better off a monkey. Power like that curses you. It’ll eat you alive, boy.

– I was born this way.

– Take some advice from a dead man walking, then. Don't let that power define you. It's a tool, not your soul.

How absurd. Power is all that Satoru has. Yet, something in Toji’s words strikes a chord.

– Why should I give a shit what you say?

– Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe I’m suffering from blood loss.

After every dream, Toji dies before he speaks again. Each time Satoru wakes up in a panic, he remembers the phantom of two faces. A frail girl and a sullen boy with sharp eyes.

October, 2011

“You gotta like… divide it. You know?”

“Huh?”

Satoru frowns at the worksheet in front of him. Despite being at the top of his class his whole life, he never really cared about academia. He aced everything that was important, and then the information was lost in him. Math was easy, sure, but he didn’t know how to explain it properly to an eight-year-old.

“Look,” he says, pointing to the numbers. “See how this number on top is bigger? That makes it an improper fraction.”

“Yeah?” Megumi replies, bored.

“So, we gotta divide the big one by the little one to get the mixed fraction.”

“But it doesn’t divide evenly…”

“Yeah, so you kind of just… uh, put the leftovers in the fraction part. Next to the whole number.”

Megumi frowns, probably about to complain about Satoru’s lack of teaching instinct, when Shoko walks in. She pauses, a cigarette in her mouth, and flashes Satoru a confused look.

Satoru waves her off with a dismissive hand, turning his attention back to Megumi. The boy's intense green eyes are fixed on the paper, brow furrowed in concentration. For a moment, Satoru sees a flash of Toji in that expression—the same stubborn determination.

"Okay," Megumi says slowly, pencil hovering over the page. "So... seven divided by two is three with one left over?"

"Exactly," Satoru nods, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "So you write it as 3 1/2."

Megumi scribbles down the answer, then looks up at Satoru expectantly. "Is that right?"

"Perfect," Satoru grins, ruffling the boy's hair. Megumi scowls and ducks away, but there's a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

Shoko clears her throat, reminding them of her presence. She exhales a cloud of smoke.

“Yo. You babysitting now?”

“Hey, don’t light up in front of the kids.”

“Since when do you babysit?” she narrows her eyes. “It’s not like you need the money—”

“Hold on, Megs,” Satoru interrupts. The boy happily ignores him, immediately opening Satoru’s Gameboy Advance while Satoru drags Shoko into the nearby bedroom.

After he finishes his spiel, she looks at him with disbelief.

“What the fuck—”

“No swearing, either.”

She scoffs. “You can’t just kidnap some kids. Don’t they have any relatives that can take them in?”

“Uh, yeah. The Zenin clan,” he mutters, keeping his voice low with the door open. He looks over at Megumi on the couch, whose brows are furrowed as he plays his game. In many ways, he really was the spitting image of his father, baring the same teeth ready to snarl. Wounded pup ready to bite. Of course, he was cut from that same Zenin rib.

Satoru sighs. Tsumiki appears, hair disheveled from her nap, and tugs on his sleeve.

“Mister Gojo?”

“Yeah, sweetheart? And you don’t have to call me that.”

Her stomach growls before she can speak.

Shit, he forgot to run to the store to buy more food. Shoko looks at him flatly, knowing full well that he eats like the typical university student despite having the money to get whatever organic shit they sell at the overpriced health food stores.

“Aunt Shoko can take you out. You want a burger or something?”

He gives Shoko a pleading look, to which she rolls her eyes. “C’mon, kid.”

Shoko takes Tsumiki's hand, leading her towards the door. "Let's go, kiddo. We'll grab something for your brother too."

As they leave, Satoru collapses onto the couch next to Megumi, who's still engrossed in the game. He watches the boy's fingers move deftly over the buttons, his face a mask of concentration.

"You're pretty good at that," Satoru comments.

Megumi shrugs without looking up. "S'okay."

Satoru leans back, closing his eyes for a moment. The weight of his decision to take in these kids is starting to sink in. He's barely an adult himself, and now he's responsible for two lives. Two very complicated lives, given their connection to the Zenin clan. A pair of strays.

Megumi pouts as he button-smashes, ultimately losing a level. It’s almost endearing to Satoru, who sees himself in the boy in moments like these. Still, the ghost of Fushiguro still weighs on his shoulders whenever he looks at Megumi’s haunting green eyes. It’s like pieces of jagged glass, quick flashes of a mirrored history.

Satoru's mind wanders to you again as he watches Megumi struggle with the game. He imagines your gentle hands guiding the boy's fingers over the buttons, your patient voice explaining the intricacies of the game mechanics. You always had a way of breaking things down, making the complex simple and approachable. It was one of the things he loved most about you.

Satoru never really has an answer whenever Shoko asks why he decided to take the kids in. Your voice is in the back of his head, calling him selfish. It’s ironic, considering you could take partial credit for taking care of Satoru by simply being there. He was always a spoiled brat and he knew it himself.

His mind is always on you, but as the weeks pass, the thought of you is like a parasite on his brain. You’d be much better at handling the kids than him — hell, it was enough that you had to put up with Satoru’s childish antics when you grew up together.

Maybe he could convince Utahime to return and drag you along. She had always had something maternal about her. It was the way that she nagged and doted on others, the way she’d often beg Shoko to stop smoking, to which Shoko would actually listen (occasionally, for weeks at a time, until she found herself in an unexplainable manic depression again and again).

And you would adore little Megumi, who had the same sarcastic streak as you. Tsumiki would love you, too. She needed a role model that wasn’t Shoko, who often evaded responsibility of the kids by reminding Satoru that she never signed up for it, plus she was serving as something of a mentor for some underclassmen rookies at the morgue.

Satoru's thoughts drift back to you, to the last time he saw you. The memory is etched in his mind, a bittersweet tableau of what once was and what could have been. Your eyes, usually so warm and inviting, had been cold that day, filled with a mixture of disappointment and something else he couldn't quite place. Hurt, perhaps? Or was it resignation?

It was a miracle you’d kissed him at all, even with the dry streaks of tears on your face. He remembered how hot his chest had felt just from something as chaste as your lips pressing against his. It was almost pathetic.

The memory of the kiss taunts him, a ghost of tenderness in the chaos of his new reality. What the fuck was he thinking, playing a father to these kids? Or an older brother of some sorts. Regardless, he wasn’t qualified. Not in the slightest.

In idle moments, Satoru finds himself absently touching his lips, as if he can still feel the trace of your goodbye. He shakes his head, trying to dispel the sensation that lingers on him like a second skin.

He can’t complain about being touch-starved. Not when he has two kids who were alone for God knows how long.

He remembers the way you'd explain things to him when you were younger, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you unraveled the mysteries of the world. How different would Megumi's math lesson have been if you were here? You'd probably have some clever analogy involving shogi pieces or trading cards, something that would click instantly in the boy's mind.

He tries to ignore the pang of longing in his chest. Things were so much easier when you were kids.

He can still feel your laughter. It’s imprinted in his brain, the way it would bubble up from your chest and come out all airy. He remembers the way your eyes crinkled around the corners when you laughed, the way your hands would gesture wildly when lecturing him.

He thinks about each time he saw you before the last time. Your eyes dragged down by hurt, face turning away to hide it. No matter what he said, the space between you would grow into a chasm. He wonders what you’re doing now, if you ever think of him the way he thinks of you — constantly, achingly.

The warmth of summer is the only thing that keeps him grounded. He lets Tsumiki decorate his apartment with plants she chooses at the farmer’s market — the scent of blooming jasmine and mint wafting all over his living room. It reminds him of the perfume you used to wear.

August is as slow as molasses. Sometimes it feels easy.

September, 2011

Satoru's apartment feels emptier without his towering presence, the silence broken only by the soft rustling of Tsumiki watering her plants and Megumi's quiet muttering as he plays his games. The potted plants Tsumiki lovingly tends to seem to droop, as if sensing Satoru’s absence. The late summer heat clings stubbornly to the city, but there's a hint of autumn in the air.

Satoru had left three days prior. He was alone in his house plenty of times when he was nine years old — this was his logic for leaving Tsumiki “in charge.”

"I'll be back soon," he had promised, ruffling Megumi's hair. The boy scowled but didn't pull away. "Remember the rules. Don't open the door for anyone. There's food in the fridge. And if anything happens—"

"Call Shoko," Tsumiki finished, her voice soft but steady.

Satoru nodded, a lump forming in his throat. He'd never left them alone for more than a day before. But this mission... it was too dangerous to bring them along, and too important to postpone.

Since his departure, the apartment starts to feel cavernous without Satoru’s larger-than-life presence. A storm brews over Tokyo, which leaves Tsumiki to slam all the windows closed in paranoia. She checks the locks every hour.

“You’re being dramatic,” Megumi huffs.

“No, I’m not,” Tsumiki frowns. She’s overprotective over Megumi, who’s usually occupied by Satoru’s brand new Nintendo 3DS, which came with dozens of games that he knowingly bought to occupy the boy.

It rains heavily that night, then the next. On the third night, the sky is eerily yellow, fading into a burgundy by dusk. Blood moon. Megumi and Tsumiki are huddled on the couch, the Nintendo dead and forgotten on the coffee table. Despite there not being rain, the weather outside is windy enough to blow the power out. Outside, the wind howls, rattling the windows with an odd persistence.

It’s as if something had changed in the atmosphere entirely. The shadows feel deeper than usual, if that was possible. Megumi feels it first, a prickling sensation at the base of his skull.

His stomach growls. There’s no way to heat up leftovers, goddammit. As he steps out towards the pantry, Tsumiki’s favorite jasmine plant withers before his eyes, its vibrant green leaves turning black and crumbling to dust.

Something is terribly wrong.

The air grows heavy, thick with an unseen presence. The shadows in the corners of the room seem to writhe and stretch, reaching out with inky tendrils. A low, guttural growl emanates from somewhere beyond the walls. There’s a scratching at the door, soft at first, then growing more insistent. Megumi's eyes widen, his hand instinctively reaching for Tsumiki's.

Megumi's heart races as he recognizes the telltale signs of a cursed spirit manifesting. He'd seen it before, back when...

He shakes the memory away, focusing on protecting Tsumiki.

"It's probably just a cat," Tsumiki whispers, but her voice trembles.

The scratching stops, replaced by a low, guttural growl that sends chills down their spines. This is no cat.

Megumi springs into action, dragging Tsumiki towards Satoru's room. They barricade the door with a dresser, their hearts pounding in their ears.

"We need to call someone," Tsumiki says, her voice barely audible over the sound of splintering wood from the living room.

“W-We’re fine,” Megumi huffs nervously. His Divine dogs are braced for danger and both double his size. It’s fine, he tells himself.

“Gojo said you can’t use your technique yet. It’s too dangerous.”

“Well, someone has to protect us around here!”

“Don’t,” Tsumiki warns. “Let’s just call Shoko.”

Megumi rolls his eyes, fumbling for the emergency phone Satoru left them. His fingers shake as he scrolls through the contacts. Shoko's name is there, but something makes him pause. Another number catches his eye, labeled simply "Last Resort."

Without thinking, he presses call.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Each second feels like an eternity as the shadows in the room seem to pulse and grow.

Finally, a click.

“Hello?”

"Please," Megumi chokes out, terror making his voice crack. "We need help. Gojo's gone and there's something in the apartment and—"

“Whoa, slow down—”

Tsumiki takes the phone frantically.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Something's wrong, there’s something outside, and Mister Gojo isn't here, and we found your number, and—"

“Hey,” you whisper softly. “Just relax a second. Who is this?”

"I'm Tsumiki," she says, her voice steadying slightly at the calm in your tone. “Is… is Shoko there?”

“No… I’m a friend of hers—”

“Mister Gojo is away,” Tsumiki interrupts. “We’re supposed to call Shoko if anything happens, but my brother Megumi called your number instead—”

A low, rumbling growl cuts through the air, causing both children to freeze. Megumi's eyes widen as he sees something move in the shadows, something with too many limbs and eyes that gleam with malevolent hunger.

"What was that?" you ask, your voice sharp with concern.

"There's something here," Megumi says, taking the phone from his sister. "Something... not normal. The shadows are moving, and—"

Another growl, closer this time. Tsumiki lets out a small whimper, pressing close to her brother. Megumi's head snaps up, green eyes narrowing as he listens intently.

"Megumi?" Tsumiki whispers, voice trembling slightly.

He holds up a hand, signaling for quiet.

Megumi's mind races. Satoru had drilled them on what to do in emergencies, but faced with the reality of the situation, panic threatened to overwhelm him. He grabs Tsumiki's hand, pulling her towards Satoru's bedroom.

"Hide," he hisses, shoving her towards the closet. "Don't come out no matter what."

"Megumi, don't!" Tsumiki shrieks, but he ignores her, peering around the corner.

Megumi peers out into the empty. The looming darkness is filled with whispers that he isn't sure are in his head or not. There’s a crash outside and his heart races — is someone trying to break in?

He rushes back to Tsumiki and hides in the closet with her, the phone muffling your voice as he shoves it in his pocket.

“What’s going on?” you demand.

“Shhh,” Megumi whispers.

His heart pounds as he and Tsumiki huddle in the closet. The darkness seems alive, pulsing with malevolent energy. A foul odor seeps under the door – rotting flesh mixed with sulfur.

Through the crack of the closet door, Megumi sees it. Tsumiki bites her lip to stifle a scream.

Standing before them is a grotesque creature, its body a writhing mass of shadows and tentacles. It's barely humanoid, its body a writhing mass of shadows and teeth. Multiple yellow eyes blink at random across its form. A gaping maw lined with needle-sharp teeth stretches open, dripping black ichor. Tendrils of inky blackness slither across the floor, probing every corner of the room. Where they touch, the carpet withers and disintegrates.

A face emerges from the writhing mass - if it can be called a face at all. It's a nightmarish patchwork of mismatched features, eyes blinking open and closed at random across its surface. A mouth stretches impossibly wide, revealing row upon row of needle-sharp teeth.

Megumi's breath catches in his throat. This is something far worse than an intruder — a cursed spirit, the kind Satoru had warned them about but never fully explained.

The spirit pauses, its grotesque head swiveling towards the closet. Megumi's blood runs cold as dozens of eyes focus on their hiding spot. He knows, with bone-deep certainty, that they've been found.

Megumi's mind races. He knows he shouldn't use his technique, but what choice does he have? As the creature reaches for them with elongated, clawed fingers, Megumi summons every ounce of courage he has.

"Divine Dogs!" he shouts, his voice cracking.

Two massive, spectral hounds materialize, their fur crackling with otherworldly energy. They lunge at the shadow creature, tearing into it with ethereal fangs. The being shrieks, a sound that makes the windows rattle and the children's ears ring.

Just as the dying spirit lunges toward them, the bedroom door explodes inward. A familiar figure lands in a crouch, cigarette dangling from her lips. A familiar figure lands in a crouch, cigarette dangling from her lips.

"What the fuck," she mutters, before springing into action. “Get back, kiddo!”

Megumi panics and turns to see Tsumiki shaking in the corner, his heart leaping with adrenaline. Immediately, he covers her as a shield once he realizes that the cursed spirit is regenerating its limbs.

"Hey, ugly," Shoko drawls, flicking ash onto the carpet.

The spirit whirls to face her, letting out an ear-splitting shriek. Shoko doesn't flinch. Her hands move in a blur, tracing intricate patterns in the air. Blue light crackles between her fingers, and the temperature in the room plummets.

"Megumi, Tsumiki," she calls out, not taking her eyes off the spirit. "Cover your ears and close your eyes. Now!"

The children obey without hesitation. Even with their eyes squeezed shut, they see the flash of brilliant light through their eyelids. The spirit's shriek cuts off abruptly, replaced by an odd sucking sound, like air being pulled through a too-small vent.

With a final, ear-splitting shriek, the creature implodes, leaving nothing but a fading wisp of darkness and dark purple blood.

"You kids okay?" Shoko asks, her usual nonchalance tinged with genuine concern.

Megumi nods shakily, helping Tsumiki to her feet.

"How did you know to come?" Tsumiki asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shoko's eyes narrow when she hears a tinny voice. "What is that?”

In the sudden silence, Megumi becomes aware of the voice still coming from the phone in his pocket. His eyes widen when he remembers. He fumbles with the phone, putting it on speaker.

Shoko immediately recognizes your voice. She snatches the phone from Megumi's grasp.

"What's happening?" you yell, your voice tinny and distant.

"They're safe," she says, her tone clipped. "I've got them."

"Shoko?" you gasp. "What the hell is going on? Where's Satoru?"

Shoko sighs, running a hand through her hair. "It's a long story. He's on a mission."

"A mission? And he left two children alone?" The anger in your voice is palpable. "What the fuck?”

Shoko takes a long drag from her cigarette, her eyes darting between the kids and the phone.

“You know how he is,” she mutters, avoiding their gazes now.

"Look, I've got this under control. You don't need to—"

"Under control? Are two children getting attacked what you call fucking under control?”

Megumi and Tsumiki exchange glances, sensing the tension even through the phone line. Shoko sighs, her usual sardonic demeanor slipping for a moment.

"They weren't supposed to be alone," she mutters. "I was meant to check in, but..." She trails off, guilt etched on her face.

"But what?" you press, your voice sharp.

"I got held up at work. A bad case. I lost track of time."

There's a moment of heavy silence. When you speak again, your voice is quieter, but no less intense. "So you’re at his apartment now? He has an apartment? How are the kids?"

"Obviously he does — he’s rich… anyways, that’s not the point," Shoko huffs, glancing around the disheveled room. "The kids are okay, just shaken up."

"I'm coming over," you say firmly. "Text me the address."

"Wait, from Kyoto? I don't think that's a good —" Shoko starts, but you've already hung up.

Shoko stares at the phone for a moment, then turns to the children. Megumi is watching her with those unnervingly intense eyes, while Tsumiki seems to be on the verge of tears.

"Alright, kids," Shoko says, stubbing out her cigarette. "Let's get this place cleaned up before our guest arrives. And maybe... maybe don't mention the whole cursed spirit thing to them, okay?"

Megumi nods solemnly, but Tsumiki speaks up, her voice trembling. "Who was that? On the phone?"

Shoko hesitates, choosing her words carefully. "An old friend. Someone who cares about you two, even if they don't know you yet."

She gives a wry smile and surveys the destruction of the apartment — a shattered window, scorched walls, blood on the carpet. Luckily, it’s all replaceable, but she knows that Satoru will whine about the damage despite the fact that he should be blamed for leaving two elementary schoolers alone in the first place. Ironically, the worst damage to him will be whatever words you have for him once you get back to Tokyo. She almost laughs at the idea.

The night wears on, the silence broken only by Shoko's cleaning and the distant sounds of the city. She puts the kids to bed as she cleans, eventually passing out on the couch.

Hours later, when the first hints of dawn begin to color the sky, there’s a knock at the door. Shoko wakes up and tenses. She immediately senses Tsumiki in the corner, the damn early bird. Her big eyes watch her curiously.

“It’s okay,” Shoko calls to her. ��It’s probably… our, uh, guest.”

She opens the door, revealing a figure silhouetted. Tsumiki cranes her neck to get a better look.

You enter the room, your eyes immediately scanning for threats before settling on Tsumiki. Your expression softens.

The air in the apartment feels charged, the earlier supernatural encounter leaving a macabre energy. The residuals are everywhere. They’re suffocating. You can taste the metallic tang of blood in the air. It’s faint but present.

“What… the fuck happened?”

“Just a.. break in?” Shoko says sheepishly. She isn’t sure if that sounds better or worse than a supernatural entity.

You stare long and hard at the dried blood on the carpet. A cursed spirit.

“Why in the world would the kids attract a curse that big? Was it a special grade?”

“No, no,” Shoko sighs and shakes her head. “A Grade 2 at best. The kids were just spooked. They’ve probably never seen anything like that before.”

You pause, narrowing your eyes.

“Are you going to explain to me why Satoru is housing two children despite not even being able to stay with them?”

Shoko glances at her phone, which somehow managed to get shattered in the chaos prior. The screen glows 6:23 am. She sighs.

“Sit down. I’ll make some coffee.”

Satoru is barely awake when he returns to the apartment two days later. His hair is disheveled, the bluish veins underneath in his eyes more prominent underneath his nearly translucent skin. As he approaches the door, he senses something different — cursed energy that’s vaguely familiar. His heart skips a beat.

Something is wrong, but there is also a presence that is rather… comforting behind the door. He can’t quite place the energy. His stomach flips. He pauses, hand hovering over the doorknob, before taking a deep breath and stepping inside.

The sight that greets him stops him in his tracks. There you are, standing in his living room, your eyes blazing with a fury he hasn't seen in years. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches the highlights in your hair, creating a halo effect that makes you look almost ethereal. For a moment, Satoru forgets to breathe.

He freezes completely. It has only been two months since he’d last seen you, yet you’re more beautiful than ever. You’re here. In his apartment, in the flesh. You’re real and solid and so achingly familiar that it makes his heart clench.

“Y/N,” he breathes. Something in you aches when you hear your name from his mouth instead of Twigs.

Before he gets another word in, you launch into a tirade that would make lesser men cower.

“What the hell were you thinking, Satoru?" Your voice is low and dangerous, each word sharp as a blade. "Leaving two children alone in an apartment? Do you have any idea what could have happened? What did happen?"

Satoru opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off with a raised hand. Your words come out in a torrent, each one hitting him like a physical blow.

“No, you don’t get to speak right now. I don’t care if the higher-ups threatened an execution on you if you didn’t take whatever fucking mission you went on! A Grade 2 was here, Satoru. With two defenseless children.”

You're pacing now. Your hair whips around your face as you turn, and Satoru is mesmerized by the way the morning light catches in it.

“And what's this about you taking in two kids, anyway? Since when are you qualified to be a guardian? You can barely take care of yourself! You thought you could do this on your own and have Shoko play babysitter knowing she works her ass off at the morgue? What were you thinking?"

As you continue, gesticulating wildly, Satoru feels a mix of emotions swirling within him. Guilt, certainly, for the danger he'd inadvertently put Megumi and Tsumiki in. Concern for their wellbeing. But underlying it all is a current of... something else.

Your passion, your righteous anger on behalf of the children - it stirs something in him. The way your eyes flash, the way your voice rises and falls with emotion, the way your body moves as you pace and gesture - it's intoxicating.

Satoru knows he should be ashamed, should be apologizing, explaining. But a part of him - a part he's not proud of - is thrilled by your anger. It makes heat pool in his stomach. It means you care. It means you still feel something for him, even if it's fury.

He should be focusing on your words, on the valid points you're making. But part of him is lost in the way your lips form each syllable, the way your hair falls across your face as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Are you even listening to me?" you demand, snapping him back to attention.

"Every word," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You falter for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. Then you continue to rally against him, launching into yet another tirade, and despite the passionate cadence of your voice that he loves so very much, he can’t help but have that fade into the background as he stares at you. Your presence alone is starting to make him feel dizzy.

He's vaguely aware that he should be defending himself, but he can't bring himself to interrupt. Instead, he drinks in the sight of you, cataloging every detail. The way your brow furrows when you're particularly upset. The slight tremble in your hands as you wave them around.

As you continue to berate him, Satoru finds himself fighting the urge to pull you close, to silence your anger with his lips. The thought shocks him - he shouldn't be thinking like this, not when you're rightfully furious with him. But he can't help it.

You’re still pacing, not even really looking at him as you go on about how fucking stupid he is, and how childish, which somehow progresses into you rambling about one time a few years ago when you were sick at his house during a winter break and he had managed to start a fire while attempting to make soup for you, because that’s how fucking stupid he is.

You don’t even notice him stalking towards you until he takes your arms in his hands, steeling his grip on you so that he can kiss you square on the mouth. You whine petulantly, pushing him away. He feels a strike on his right cheek that is… well-deserved, honestly.

Your mind reels. You’re not one for being physical besides sparring, but you’ve never hit Satoru in your life. Part of you feels guilty for a millisecond. Part of you is surprised that he let you through his Infinity.

“I– What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you always do that? You do that literally every time we have a fight–”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I deserved that slap.”

“No shit,” you grit. “This isn’t fucking funny, Satoru. Do you even take me seriously?”

“Yes. You can slap me again if you don’t believe me. Punch me all you want.”

“Okay, don’t make it weird,” you mutter.

“What?” he frowns sheepishly.

You narrow your eyes. “I know you’re turned on right now.”

“Wha– I am not.”

“You are the most infuriating man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting–”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts. His voice is earnest. “I really am—”

“Do not interrupt me,” you hiss.

Yes, ma’am, he murmurs in his head. He lets you yell at him a bit more until you’re particularly out of breath. His gaze on you is still intense, slightly wanton, and once you finish your ranting, you fidget awkwardly at his commanding presence.

It’s now that you start to see him – although you’d seen him on Tanabata, it was brief and night. In the context of his apartment (you knew he could always afford one but didn’t understand why he never just lived off campus before), and the fact that he has a blooming bruise below his jaw, you realize that he’s grown. His features have sharpened. His eyes look tired, his hands more calloused.

You shake away those observations to focus on how livid you are.

“Do you have anything to say?” you snap.

“I really am in love with you,” he mutters. Your eyes widen.

Before you can react, the door opens, revealing Shoko and the kids. Tsumiki, ever oblivious to the tension, lights up at the sight of Gojo and runs to hug him. Megumi’s curious eyes dart between the both of you.

“Gojo-san! You’re back!” Tsumiki beams.

Satoru's eyes widen as Tsumiki barrels into him, wrapping her small arms around his waist. For a moment, his gaze flicks between you and the little girl clinging to him, his expression a mix of tenderness and uncertainty.

He bends down to hug the little girl, ruffling her hair affectionately.

"Hey kiddo, I missed you. Were you good while I was gone?"

Tsumiki nods eagerly. "Uh-huh! We made new friends!"

Satoru raises an eyebrow, glancing at you. "Oh really?"

"Mhm! Miss Y/N is so nice! She made us pancakes yesterday and helped me water all my plants."

A soft smile tugs at Satoru's lips as he looks at you. "Is that so?"

You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze. "Someone had to make sure they were fed," you mutter.

Megumi hovers in the doorway, eyeing Satoru warily. "Where were you?" he demands.

Satoru sighs, standing up. "The mission took a bit longer than expected.”

"You said you'd be back soon," Megumi accuses. "It's been days."

"I know, I'm sorry," Satoru says, looking genuinely remorseful. "I didn’t want to be away for so long. But I'm back now, and I promise I won't leave you guys like that again."

Megumi nods curtly, seemingly satisfied for now. Shoko clears her throat. "Well, now that the gang's all here, how about some breakfast? We picked up a lot of groceries."

As everyone moves towards the kitchen, Satoru hangs back, catching your arm gently. "Hey, can we talk? Please?"

You hesitate, torn between your lingering anger and the earnestness in his eyes. Finally, you nod. "Fine. But not now. After breakfast."

Satoru nods, relief evident on his face. "Thank you."

The kitchen is a whirlwind of activity as Shoko attempts to make French toast (with questionable success) while the kids chatter. You find yourself watching Satoru, the way he interacts with the children. There's a gentleness there you've never seen before, a protective instinct that makes your heart ache.

As you all sit down to eat, Tsumiki regales Satoru with tales of your kindness, how you taught her to braid her hair and helped Megumi with his homework. Satoru listens intently, his eyes never leaving your face. You flush under his gaze, embarrassed. You’d only been around for maybe two days to allow Shoko to rest and you were already getting praised so heavily by a nine-year-old.

"She’s the best!" Tsumiki declares through a mouthful of pancake. "Can she stay with us forever?"

Satoru chokes on his coffee, while you nearly drop your fork. "Ah, well," Satoru stammers, "That's... complicated, sweetie."

"Why?" Megumi pipes up, his sharp eyes darting between you and Satoru. “She should stay. She helped me beat Chocolate Island on Super Mario.”

“Well… Y/N is just visiting. She’s visiting from Kyoto.”

Your heart sinks at the sight of Tsumiki’s pout.

“I can stay for a little bit,” you interject. Satoru and Shoko look at you with surprise. Shoko’s raised brows falter as her expression turns into one of amusement.

“You should sleep in the guest room that I was sleeping in. I only use it when I have to stay overnight, anyway,” Shoko smirks. You blink at her, your eyes silently telling her to stop talking.

“Yeah! You should stay with us! It’s nice having a girl around,” Tsumiki chirps. “Pleaaaase?”

“I— I’ll have to check with the school. I still have classes and work on the Kyoto campus…” you say sheepishly.

“But you won’t leave today, right?” Megumi asks.

You smile softly. “No, sweetheart, I’m not leaving today.”

Satoru lets out a breath of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding in. The kids drop the subject, easily distracted by Shoko telling a story about an incident in the morgue with her underclassmen. While the kids squeal at the more… grotesque details of her story, you and Satoru exchange glances.

You can't help but feel that something fundamental has shifted. The Satoru you knew - reckless, carefree, seemingly invincible - has been replaced by someone more complex, more human. More vulnerable. The air between you feels charged, electric with lingering conflict.

"Hey," Satoru murmurs, his voice low and urgent. "About what I said—"

"Not now," you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended.

Satoru nods, a flicker of something—disappointment? Relief?—crossing his face. "Later, then."

He moves on, immediately turning into his goofy, charismatic self as he engages in conversation.

And as much as you want to hold onto your anger, a part of you is intrigued by this new version of him. He had always been a bit immature and arrogant. He often didn’t take things seriously, but Satoru in the presence of children was something else. He was an accountable man, in more ways than beyond saving others from cursed spirits. A man who takes in orphaned children, who looks at you with such raw vulnerability in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever comes next. Whatever this is - whatever Satoru has gotten himself into - you're now irrevocably a part of it. And despite everything, a small voice in the back of your mind whispers that maybe, just maybe, that's not such a bad thing after all.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

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